@TheWizardLizard Match made in heaven my friend! :D
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@Tyler Sounds like perfectly sound idea, no idea what you're talking about, the two were obviously made for each other.
Chess gave the boy called Greg an odd look that quickly turned sour upon the realization that his thoughts were not explicitly private. He might have said something about it then, but really, what good would it do? Besides, he had his thoughts in check, nothing to fear from a little peek, as if he'd uncover anything. As well, one by one people seemed to be going up and introducing one themselves, and thus far he'd made it a point to at least commit some of what they said to memory. Faces, names, things that could be useful later were what he was looking for.
The emo kid was Casper, and Chess's "doormat" alarms went off more or less instantly. Good, the quiet ones never put up much of a fuss, and seeing just how far they could be pushed was always entertaining. He was clearly struggling, but Chess had little pity for him, if you couldn't swim on your own you'd sink, simple as that. If the boy had it in him to swim with the big fish then good on him, otherwise nature would take its course. Chess didn't care either way, no skin off his nose.
The girl Erica seemed like the nice type, which was fine in of itself, but it was risky business to go out and project that sort of thing. If Chess's doormat alarms went off, surely others' did as well. He got the same sort of vibe from Greg, though he couldn't help but feel a bit biased after the boy had gone and read his mind. Ugh, and without even asking, what sort of manners were those? The odd-eyed boy spoke as well, and Chess felt his own impatience bristle back up a bit realizing he wasn't the only one. Then there was the instigator of the little meet-and-greet, Kane, with a "K" and an "E" explicitly, bless his southern heart. Chess had never really interacted with anyone from the American South, but the rumors and hearsay were enough to give him a general idea of the boy, at least for the time being.
He was surprised to see the ratty-looking girl rounding out the group of talkers, and with a joke of all things. Maybe he'd misjudged her as too broody, like most of the lower-class folks he ran into. But it didn't really matter, she went silent quick enough and he pushed the interest from his mind. Stubborn and shady until proven otherwise, he decided.
Shutting the tiny book, he decided it was his turn. He cleared his throat and stepped forward a bit. "Abbey Chessar, but Chess will do for short and for preference," he said proudly, one hand on the scarf around his neck. "Actor, debater, entertainer, and that's just the resume."
The emo kid was Casper, and Chess's "doormat" alarms went off more or less instantly. Good, the quiet ones never put up much of a fuss, and seeing just how far they could be pushed was always entertaining. He was clearly struggling, but Chess had little pity for him, if you couldn't swim on your own you'd sink, simple as that. If the boy had it in him to swim with the big fish then good on him, otherwise nature would take its course. Chess didn't care either way, no skin off his nose.
The girl Erica seemed like the nice type, which was fine in of itself, but it was risky business to go out and project that sort of thing. If Chess's doormat alarms went off, surely others' did as well. He got the same sort of vibe from Greg, though he couldn't help but feel a bit biased after the boy had gone and read his mind. Ugh, and without even asking, what sort of manners were those? The odd-eyed boy spoke as well, and Chess felt his own impatience bristle back up a bit realizing he wasn't the only one. Then there was the instigator of the little meet-and-greet, Kane, with a "K" and an "E" explicitly, bless his southern heart. Chess had never really interacted with anyone from the American South, but the rumors and hearsay were enough to give him a general idea of the boy, at least for the time being.
He was surprised to see the ratty-looking girl rounding out the group of talkers, and with a joke of all things. Maybe he'd misjudged her as too broody, like most of the lower-class folks he ran into. But it didn't really matter, she went silent quick enough and he pushed the interest from his mind. Stubborn and shady until proven otherwise, he decided.
Shutting the tiny book, he decided it was his turn. He cleared his throat and stepped forward a bit. "Abbey Chessar, but Chess will do for short and for preference," he said proudly, one hand on the scarf around his neck. "Actor, debater, entertainer, and that's just the resume."
Also good with moving ahead, looking forward to the arrival post!
Can confirm Chess is indeed one of the reading kids ^^
And yeah Lynn may definitely be the dominant voice there xD
And yeah Lynn may definitely be the dominant voice there xD
Scent – Chess uses color-friendly shampoo, and a variety of products to get his hair into any “just right” style he’s going for. He prefers not to mix scents, so lotions and makeup are all ordorless, giving way to a lone but gentle coconut-scented perfume.
Voice – Though Chess is used to altering his voice for various roles, his most common out-of-character accent is an unabrasive, feminine upper-English, with a few Irish ticks. He’s used to speaking quickly and is good at choosing his words and enunciating where needed, an actor’s voice with a sly edge to it.
Body – Definitely the fidgety type when he’s not actively engaged in anything. If he isn’t adjusting his clothes or his hair, he’s touching the scarf around his neck. When he’s speaking, he tends to pace and accentuate with his hands.
Voice – Though Chess is used to altering his voice for various roles, his most common out-of-character accent is an unabrasive, feminine upper-English, with a few Irish ticks. He’s used to speaking quickly and is good at choosing his words and enunciating where needed, an actor’s voice with a sly edge to it.
Body – Definitely the fidgety type when he’s not actively engaged in anything. If he isn’t adjusting his clothes or his hair, he’s touching the scarf around his neck. When he’s speaking, he tends to pace and accentuate with his hands.
Was gonna ask if you wanted them in PMs or board-messages, thanks for the initiative Tyler! :D
Chess hid his eyes under his hair when he saw the newer girl arrive, and he was afforded little time to be annoyed that there would be more of a delay. She looked...interesting, to say the least, like one of the poorhouse girls from the more recent Les Misérables productions, or a
guest star' on the show 'Cops'. Without a doubt the type to watch out for, if normal thugs were unruly, Chess was sure mutant thugs would be much much worse. Not that he was worried, or anything.
Oh, and she smoked, both figuratively and literally, wonderful. As if there had been any doubt. The youth of today, he thought, honestly no class. Well, perhaps not no class.
His little huff had apparently not gone unnoticed, damn, he was used to less attentive crowds. It did afford him the opportunity to look at the strangest-woman proper, though, designer from head-to-toe. He could respect that, looking as she did he figured such fashion choices were damn near necessary. He could even respect the air of command that she had wrapped around her, it wasn't easy to walk like that, with confidence and grace and still slather each word with venom. In fact, he even found it a bit refreshing. Most of the kids he figure would be the belly-up type, all huddled up and to themselves, and despite their mutations, the gorgon woman was the first to display any truly interesting qualities to him. Of course, respect and admiration were two very different things.
"Oh sweetie," he mused, though didn't look up from his book. It was all he really needed to say, at least for now. It was the little things that planted the best seeds, keeping your hand close to your chest.
Christ alive, she smoked too, she, the scrappy-looking girl and the artsy boy. And what was this? A fourth? Chess was baffled. He hadn't seen this many smokers all in one place since the charity show in the troubled parts of Belfast. And then, suddenly, there was another arrival, and this one was at least a little bit of a relief. Fairly nice sense of dress, even if it was a bit gothy, but Chess could give a figurative tip of the hat to anyone that pulled off pink nowadays. Plus, he'd always had a thing for the emo-look, pity it belonged to such a troubled sub-culture.
Oh well, he thought, and went back to his book to wait, either for the bus, or god-help-them-all another student.
guest star' on the show 'Cops'. Without a doubt the type to watch out for, if normal thugs were unruly, Chess was sure mutant thugs would be much much worse. Not that he was worried, or anything.
Oh, and she smoked, both figuratively and literally, wonderful. As if there had been any doubt. The youth of today, he thought, honestly no class. Well, perhaps not no class.
His little huff had apparently not gone unnoticed, damn, he was used to less attentive crowds. It did afford him the opportunity to look at the strangest-woman proper, though, designer from head-to-toe. He could respect that, looking as she did he figured such fashion choices were damn near necessary. He could even respect the air of command that she had wrapped around her, it wasn't easy to walk like that, with confidence and grace and still slather each word with venom. In fact, he even found it a bit refreshing. Most of the kids he figure would be the belly-up type, all huddled up and to themselves, and despite their mutations, the gorgon woman was the first to display any truly interesting qualities to him. Of course, respect and admiration were two very different things.
"Oh sweetie," he mused, though didn't look up from his book. It was all he really needed to say, at least for now. It was the little things that planted the best seeds, keeping your hand close to your chest.
Christ alive, she smoked too, she, the scrappy-looking girl and the artsy boy. And what was this? A fourth? Chess was baffled. He hadn't seen this many smokers all in one place since the charity show in the troubled parts of Belfast. And then, suddenly, there was another arrival, and this one was at least a little bit of a relief. Fairly nice sense of dress, even if it was a bit gothy, but Chess could give a figurative tip of the hat to anyone that pulled off pink nowadays. Plus, he'd always had a thing for the emo-look, pity it belonged to such a troubled sub-culture.
Oh well, he thought, and went back to his book to wait, either for the bus, or god-help-them-all another student.
About to jump off for the night, but so far so good I think! Much excitement for the inevitable shenanigans!
A good handful of people had gathered, and still more arrived. Having shown up somewhat later than the others, Chess couldn't really throw around too much fuss at the matter, but he'd been there a time and was beginning to wonder just how many people they were waiting on. The chauffeur didn't seem too pleased by the goings-on, or perhaps just the people around. It didn't bother Chess much either way, mutant or not, the tall driver was just that, a driver, the help, peanut gallery fodder.
He eyed the newcomer, thin parasol angled over his shoulder to block out the harsher beams of the sun. Cute, artsy, maybe the theater type? He saw the boy's eyes wander to the most peculiar-looking of their little entourage, the gorgon-y woman, and he wondered if perhaps she wasn't the only one with some sort of defect -or rather, mutation he supposed.
Chess let a tiny groan slip from his throat when he heard that, though he banked on his distance from the boy to dampen the volume. He smoked, pity, the cute ones always smoked. Interest lost, he turned his attention back to book in his hands, a nice little collection of seafaring plays. While they were all yet suspended in limbo, Chess had decided that he would refrain from giving his grand introduction until they arrived at the so called Institute, or at least until they got on the bus. However long his patience lasted, really.
He eyed the newcomer, thin parasol angled over his shoulder to block out the harsher beams of the sun. Cute, artsy, maybe the theater type? He saw the boy's eyes wander to the most peculiar-looking of their little entourage, the gorgon-y woman, and he wondered if perhaps she wasn't the only one with some sort of defect -or rather, mutation he supposed.
Does, uh... Anyone have a light?
Chess let a tiny groan slip from his throat when he heard that, though he banked on his distance from the boy to dampen the volume. He smoked, pity, the cute ones always smoked. Interest lost, he turned his attention back to book in his hands, a nice little collection of seafaring plays. While they were all yet suspended in limbo, Chess had decided that he would refrain from giving his grand introduction until they arrived at the so called Institute, or at least until they got on the bus. However long his patience lasted, really.
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