Fallenreaper

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

Alchemist Curiosity Part 2

Life was finally starting to return to Fishgrove. The streets that were once filled with debris and ash were now cleared and the residents were even laying the old dirt paths with stone. Around half of the burnt down buildings were under the process of being repaired with materials far superior to what they were previously made out of. While the residents of Fishgrove were still bitter towards the De Reimer’s, they weren’t going to turn down the money and materials that they were supplying. While the destruction of Fishgrove still weighed heavy on the Raldian’s hearts they were determined to rebuild their kingdom’s capital to a state greater than it had ever been. However Ignocious had little time to focus on the reconstruction efforts, right now he was more interested in getting Kiseo to the inn so that he could better treat her wound. Their approach into Fishgrove drew many stares but he Ignocious didn’t care. His bodyguard, who’s name he had now learnt was Bailey, had taken over carrying Kiseo from the farmer. Ignocious thought it best, he had already put the farmer in his place and Bailey was far gentler with Kiseo than he had been.

“You holding on in their OK” Bailey said to Kiseo.

“I’ve had much worse. My mistress will not be pleased to hear about this so… could we keep this from her?” Kiseo asked in a meek voice.

She had curled into a ball within Bailey’s arms as he carried her. Her tail wrapped defensively about her and kept out from the man’s legs. She enjoyed the fact he was more gentle than the earlier man who seemed to care little for the additional damage caused by the rougher treatment.

Her eyes flicked to Ignicous and asked a question that was burning insider her conscious since the conflict between the farmer and him.

“Ignicous, you weren’t intending to prosecute the child, were you?”

Ignocious looked at Kiseo with surprise.

"After everything, that's happened and that's what you're worried about"? Though if you're curious I wasn't planning on it, far too much effort for some random farm boy. Anyway, follow me" Ignocious said as he walked towards the tavern door.

“Living as a slave, you become used to pain,” Kiseo admitted, quietly.

Inside, the tavern had been cleared. No patrons or even staff were seen at the tables when the three entered. Just one elder man. He was dressed in butcher garb with a bloody apron on his front. His eyes snapped to the three before he spoke.

“Set her over there,” his thick finger pointed to a clear set up of two tables pushed together.

His kit, consisting of one or two healing herbs and a knife, were set up on a side table. It was clear healing wasn’t his prime career, but a secondary one.

Ignocious looked on in disgust at the so-called surgeon in front of him.

"Are you really the best person they could find. This requires a surgeon, not some butcher who'll wield his knife like a cleaver."

The man pursed his lips and spoke, “Look, I’m the best you’ll get. Our healer died during the slaughter a few months back and there’s been no replacement.”

He moved toward the table, checking his tools while he continued.

“I’m the closest thing we got. If you have a better option and she,” he pointed to Kiseo, “can last, then you’re free to find someone else.”

He turned back to face Ignocious as he placed his hands on his hips to wait on the man’s answer.

Ignocious turned to face Kiseo “Your the one he’s operating on, what do you think,” he said with a shrug.

Kiseo turned her head towards the man. She wasn't a fan of the idea, but she saw no other option.

"I think I'll take the risk. Either way, I do not see another way and leaving a wound to fester is not good." She pointed out the hard facts out. Ignocious simply turned to the man and shrugged once more

“Place her down on the table Bailey”. Bailey slowly walked over to the table and lay Kiseo down as gently as he could.

The butcher examined the wound. He pulled back the simple tunic Kiseo was wearing and revealed the point where the arrow buried into the fur. Bloodstained the black and dirty yellow coat as he examined the wound.

“I’ll need your help holding her down while I take out the arrow. She got lucky, whatever she wore kept it from going too deep.” The Butcher’s words were mildly curious and confused.

“Are you sure she got a direct shot?”

He turned to his table and retrieved his knife, then gestured for Bailey to hold Kiseo down. His fingers pressed into the wound opening and fished around to find the arrowhead. It appeared to have not detached far from the shaft as he carefully pulled it out, widening the wound in the process. More blood squirted out onto the table causing the butcher to curse briefly before he pressed a fresh cloth to it. He then jerked the arrow shaft out, allowing his hand to starch the flow farther.

Meanwhile, Kiseo tried not to thrash from the pain spreading across her muscles. Her body didn’t seem to care as she jerked once or twice during the process. If it wasn’t for Bailey, she might have caused more damage. He cartelized the wound with a knife sitting in the tavern’s embers before wrapping her up.

When the operation drew to a close, the butcher suggested bed rest for the next three days. He turned to clean his tools and left them to take care of Kiseo.

After the butcher left Bailey, who had been trying his best to comfort Kiseo during the operation knelt down by Kiseo’s side.

“Can I get you anything?” he said as softly as he could, even with his gruff voice.

Kiseo cautiously sat upright. Her right arm wrapped about her throbbing side and her legs slid toward the floor. With whatever energy she could muster, she lowered herself onto her feet. As gravity pulled her down, she caught the table’s edge. Leaning heavily on it, she nodded.

“Some water, please.” She moved into a seat to stop the room from spinning.

Bailey quickly left the room with a new mission on hand. Ignocious, who until now had been silently dissecting the operation, made his way over to Kiseo.

"It seems Bailey has taken a liking to you. He shows you more affection than he ever showed me" he said with a smirk "how is your wound feeling? That brute wasn't nearly as oafish as I expected him to be"

"People often connect better when they feel equal to one another." Kiseo pointed out as cradled her side, examining the bandage to see any blood seeping through. She felt relieved at seeing the clean surface.

"Fishgrove is full of surprises, especially in its people. I have seen them struggle to stand on their feet when it was knocked out from under them. Despite their distrust, some are good of heart and worth getting to know."

She paused to inhale then continued.

"I think in about a day I will be able to breath without pain."

"Indeed, most fortunate" Ignocious said "and most unlikely" he continued, he got closer to Kiseo examining her wound "a shot like that should have killed you before we even made it to Fishgrove. Yet you're injury is nowhere near as severe"?

" I'm… lucky. I guess." Kiseo's head leaned back as her eyes didn't look directly at him. Unlike her mistress, she wasn't trained well enough to lie on the spot. She tried to hinder his examination by having her arm remain in place and block most of his view.

Ignocious looked annoyed as Kiseo evaded his question "After helping you out back there, I would have thought honesty would be the least you could give me in return" Ignocious replied.

"You don't know what happens to slaves that have shown magical potential. If you did, you can't blame me. I worry about how Dyril will react if she found out." Kiseo sighed, unsure if she could trust Ignocious to keep her secret.

"She would discard me to protect me. I made a promise to protect her, but I can't do that if I'm not beside her."

After a momentary pause Ignocious responded with a simple “I see” before continuing to look at her wound “I may not be a mage myself, but my experiments led me to research the arcane arts. I have never seen, nor read about magic manifesting itself like this, at least not without sufficient training. How long have you known you were gifted with magic”?

"I don't know for sure, but when I was seven… Dyril was gone for the day and one of her cousins stepped on my tail. I dropped the drinks I was carrying, spilling them across the expensive rug. One of the aunts felt it was proper punishment to string me on the flogging tree, letting the rawhide whip bite into my bare back." Kiseo`s arm wrapped about her other arm. She seemed to recall the day in vivid detail as she continued.

"I was left out there until night. Ting mentioned how odd it was that the wounds appeared so shallow despite how relentless the whipping slave was known to punish others. Mainly to spare himself from suffering the same fate. I knew it had to be magic that saved me…"

Ignocious shuddered upon hearing about Kiseo’s ordeal. Despite his apathetic nature, even he was disturbed by the brutal treatment that Kiseo had received. Regardless he put aside his disgust and focused on the matter at hand “So your magic hardens your skin when in danger is that it? Has it ever manifested itself in any other way”?

"Yes, it's been instinctual for four years now. It has not done anything else that I'm aware of. I've never tried anything else and I mainly hoped it would go away. Dyril can't protect me if we are forced to return. Not without being killed."

Kiseo sighed then explained more.

"Any magic potential found in slaves is required by law to be reported. The slave is then bought from the owner and resold to a priest. They do experiments which can lead from deformity to death. Those who die… are the lucky ones."

“Like I said, I might not be a mage but one thing I know for certain is that magic does not go away, it simply becomes more potent as the individual ages. It’s why most mages in Formaroth are sent to the circle so they can learn how to control their power, else they become a danger to themselves and others” Ignocious paused as he reflected on what Kiseo had said “Wait, you say this happened four years ago when you were seven? You telling me your only eleven years old”?

"Yes. I am. Why are you looking shocked? Mao age faster than humans and especially elves. I'm currently a fully mature adult. Dyril is only thirty-one years old and just hitting adulthood." Kiseo pointed out as she debated on her next step.

"I can't leave here because if I do, the crop might fail. I can't allow that. But I don't want to hurt Dyril or anyone else by mistake so… I'm in a...what's the phrase? Stuck between a rock and something else?"

She looked to the man for help.

Ignocious was shocked at Kiseo’s apparent youth but didn’t doubt it. Her explanation made sense; if elves matured at a different rate there was no reason to believe the same couldn’t be true of Mao. “I’m pretty sure no one wants to risk your crop failing, least of all me. If you are concerned about losing control your best course of action would be finding a mage who can train you. Though as you would imagine those are not exactly in high supply here in Formaroth” Ignocious pondered for a moment as he formulated an idea “I could potentially write a letter to magister Lanaya Dionisa. From what I gather she has an extreme interest in helping mages develop their talents. The fact that you are a Máoróngrōng will likely peak her interest even more”.

Kiseo felt her spine raise up a bit at the mention of the name, her tan, flicked nervously. She began to confess.

"I have met her when we first arrived. I did ask a few questions over mages and I… lied to her. I don't think it was a good one as she didn't seem to believe me, but she didn't press for answers too hard." Kiseo`s face took on a sheepish expression for a cat.

"She also warned me of the same thing you said but I was afraid. I still am."

“I see, so you had the chance to receive training from a magister and you hide the fact you were a mage from her” Ignocious said with a raised eyebrow “At the very least you are getting a second chance at such a golden opportunity. Not many can claim to be so lucky”.

"I won't say my actions were smart, but they aren't unreasonable. Dyril, next to Claus, is the only one I know here and trust. Risks often can lead to death for slaves or worse." Kiseo let the words sink in for the judging man.

"It would be better if I write a letter for her, if you would be kind enough to deliver it?"

“I should be able to see that this letter reaches its rightful place, unhindered and unopened. However what do I get out of delivering it” Ignocious said with a devious smile “Having access to your best stock seems a fair enough deal to me. Ensuring the stock is kept off the king’s ledger if you get what I mean”? Ignocious knew that after the incident he pulled with the spark powder his inventory was being closely monitored by his accountants. All of the mandrakes purchased would now be expected to be used on the golems and nothing else. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to have some mandrakes kept off the books for his own personal experiments.

Kiseo knew deep inside there had to be a price. She sighed and hopped up onto the table, considering his suggestion. After a moment of adjusting to the pain, she decided on another tactic.

"I am surprised you put profit before your safety. We both established that an untrained mage is dangerous, especially during times of stress. We might've gotten lucky that I didn't just engulf everything in fire." She waited to see his reaction and his answer might change.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said with a smile, “Your talking to a man who spent the past few months in a room of highly volatile materials that could explode upon the smallest contact with flame. All so I could pursue my true goals, I was not deterred then and I will not be deterred now”.

"I can't do that. It takes money from the farm which means less hired help and less mandrakes."

She sighed then made a counter offer.

"What if I send letters keeping you updated on the mandrake development? This would ensure you can arrive first and gain the best stock. Dyril usually sells on a first come, first served basis."

Ignocious considered for a minute, on one side he wanted to push for the chance to get free mandrakes. However he knew that if she wanted to Kiseo could probably get a letter to magister Lanaya with or without him. Through this way he could send Bailey up whenever a fresh batch was ready. He imagined he would enjoy the chance to see Kiseo again, and visa versa. “Very well then, it’s a deal” Ignocious said as he put his hand out for Kiseo to shake it.

For a moment, Kiseo became confused and then it dawned on her. She extended her hand out and carefully took his. Her claws remained in her fingers to avoid cutting him.

"After we load up those mandrakes, I'll work on that letter. I will also send you a heat stone to keep them warm during the trip. It will only last a few weeks so I hope you can create a place to store them."

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

Emily

---

_{Tuesday, Sept 3. | The Assembly}

During the assembly, Emily decided to sit near Myles. She quietly watched everyone file in either in groups or individuals, filling up the bleachers. When it seemed everyone was here, the assembly began. Emily fixed her eyes on her aid, Ms. Krauss. The woman had neatly trimmed golden brown hair with curled ends. She kept it straight to match her professional aura, but her eyes reflected something else. When Emily looked into them, she saw much more depth in the aid. Warmth and kindness were there, but pity too. The latter was something she didn’t want. It made her feel weak and a burden to others. Someone better left dead. Emily paused in her negative thoughts as she felt a familiar, icy fear journeyed up her spine.

It must’ve shown on her face because Ms. Krauss looked concerned then signed. Are you all right?

Taking the escape route out of her own mind, Emily’s hands replied back. Yes, I am. Just bored.

The woman continued to look at her a moment longer then moved on. She quickly picked up where she left off, translating what the Principle was saying. When he introduced the newest addition to the school faculty, Emily’s eyes shifted from Ms. Krauss to spot Mr. Lehrer stepping up to the podium. She wasn’t sure what to think of him based on looks. Her attention returned to Ms. Krauss, reading the signs for the gist of his welcome. She shook her head at his corny joke about spreading wings.

At the mention of his Social Conscience Program, her hands pulled out her bag and checked her schedule.

Literature.
Art.
Calculus.
Computer Lab.
Fashion and Retailer.
Chemistry.
Fashion Construction.
Social Conscience.

Emily frowned at the last period, confused at why she was chosen. While it sounded like it might help her insight on popular fashion, it sounded too experimental. Something that straight-A students would have no issue joining. Something she failed at being. In fact, according to her last year's progress report, she barely managed to float on a D average.

She went to ask Ms. Krauss about it, but the woman gestured for her to pay attention. Her questions were pushed aside for the time being and she focused on the rest of the assembly. She would have to check with Charlie and Myles at lunch to see if either of them had it too.

---

_{Tuesday, Sept 3. | The ‘Loft’}

Emily gradually climbed the stairs up to the loft. The atmosphere of the school seemed to change from modern and high tech to something older. It left her pondering the change with awe and timidness. Her self-preservation instinct voted for a retreat, but her curiosity spurred her onward. It didn’t help her aid remained downstairs, informing her that she wasn’t necessary for the last class period. Fear about communication issues began to plague Emily’s courage. Despite that, she kept moving. Eventually, she managed to reach the classroom’s entrance and walk-in.

She stopped in her tracks for a moment. What she expected was several lines of aged desks and boring charts or decor fitting to the teaching subject. Instead, there were large couches facing the teacher’s desk. It gave it an old, musty den feel. Not the classic classroom at all. Realizing she might’ve been holding up any late students, she moved toward Myles.

Her best friend listened to his earphones, enjoying the beats. Emily scooped up the syllabus and pass card before she sat down. She gave the second item a quick look over. The card made her a bit excited to be included in something other than a special needs class. She tapped Myles on the shoulder then signed a greeting. A genuine smile crossed her face at seeing one of the two familiar faces here. When she spotted Charlie, she signed for him to sit beside them and moved over a bit. All her earlier anxiety appeared to have faded in the company of friends.

After chatting with Myles and Charlie for a bit, she caught signing from the corner of her vision. Abruptly her head turned to the front of the classroom. Surprise crossed her expression at seeing the fluid movements that introduced him to everyone. Emily couldn’t help but lean in, engaging in the fact he involved her. A rarity for her, even at Mather Memorial.

Her body leaned back into her seat when he mentioned using his first name rather than Mr. Lehrer. She turned to Myles then Charlie, signing a single word. Weird. She wondered if the other two agreed with her. When his signing turned to the subject of the syllabus, it explained why it needed a signature. Since Charlie and Myles were both in the class, she didn’t think her parents would deny her going on the trips.

The question on the board was not one she looked forward to. Introductions and communications were difficult enough when it came to receiving them, but making them? That was a nightmare she still struggled to overcome. She crossed her arms over her chest as she considered a possible solution. Thankfully, a dark-haired student rose to the challenge and attacked the question with gusto. If it wasn’t for Mr. Lehrer signing, Emily would’ve only caught one in about six words if she was lucky. Lip reading failed miserable for a number of reasons. Accents and terrible pronunciation were a few big ones on that list.

While she wanted to go up there and get her intro done, Emily hasn't finished figuring out what to say. To lighten her nerves, she turned to her friends with a question.

One of you two want to go next? Or should we draw straws? The last bit was meant to be a joke, her lips curled into a smile to make it obvious.

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

@The Elvenqueen Now, get in the discord. :P

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

Emily's Morning

A black and red-colored alarm hit 6 am on the dot. Strobe lights flashed on and off, filling the darkened room with pulses of blinding light. It peeked through Emily’s closed eyes causing her to roll over in defiance and try to continue sleeping. The sound drew her mom to open the door, her head peeked. Mrs. Sawyer just sighed at the sight of Emily curled into a ball and invited herself inside. She turned off the alarm before she took a seat on the bed. Her arm shook her daughter’s shoulder.

Emily just flipped around. She narrowed her anger and annoyance on the source, waiting for her mom’s reply. Mrs. Sawyer put her fingers together around her mouth and closed her eyes. After a moment, she opened her eyes and pulling her hands apart into two L shapes next to her face.

Wake up.

Emily sat up, folding her covers down. She lifted her hands up, making clawed fingers then turned them upside down. She shook them away from her like she was brushing something away.

I don’t want to. Emily signed back.
First day of school. Don’t be nervous, it will all work out.
I’m not nervous. Emily lied in her reply back, her butterflies swarmed in her middle. She wasn’t even sure if she could manage eating today.

Her mom’s posture fell into disappointment causing Emily to look away. She didn’t like making her mom feel this way, but she was determined to stick to her lie. Her mom once more touched her to redirect her attention.

Then why do you want to go back to bed? Her mom asked the hardest question in Emily’s opinion.
The teenager sighed then began to explain.

I’m scared and worried. What if no one wants to talk to me? What if they ignore me? Her sign language became quicker and sloppy. Immediately her mom reached to stop Emily’s hands, silencing her in order to speak.

Too fast. Take a breath and repeat that. Slower.

Emily nodded in understanding. She inhaled then exhaled, releasing the earlier butterflies for the moment. She signed again, this time at a better speed.

Better. Her mom paused to consider her daughter’s concerns. The answer came in a simple word.

Myles. He talks to you and doesn’t ignore you. That’s one cute boy down.

Mom. Emily gave her mom a look that screamed she was being ridiculous.

He reminds me of your father at that age, but I’ll drop it. Her mom gave her a warm smile. She leaned in and kissed Emily on the head, pulling up from her seat on the bed. Her figure turned back one last time.

Wake up. Get dressed. There are some chocolate waffles waiting for you in the kitchen. Myles will be here soon, so get them before he eats them all.

There was a bit of playfulness in the signing causing Emily to snort in laughter. Feeling slightly more positive about the day, she tossed the blankets to the side and rose onto her feet. Her oversized tee shirt draped over her boxers as she went to her closet. It took what could’ve half an hour deciding on her outfit, but she settled on one of her favorites. A pair of form-fitting light blue jeans with black floral stencils on the sides, a light tan spaghetti strap tee shirt with a studded purple heart on the right breast, and laced up canvas shoes.

Emily looked herself over in the mirror. She didn’t feel like make-up so she went all-natural, her hand snatching her phone on the way out. It was set to vibration and flash rather than sound. Her thumb flicked through the messages as she passed the utility closet and bathroom. When she reached the kitchen, she noticed a text from Myles.

"Good morning, I should be there for breakfast so long as I don’t, you know die or something. Hope we have Waffles!" This was accompanied by a smiling emoji.

Emily shook her head, texting him back. “Only if I don’t eat them all as revenge. Dad’s making both chocolate and blueberry ones so they will be nice and hot when you get here.

She put her phone away as she entered the dining room. The table had been set with butter, store-bought syrup, few bowls of fruit and whipped cream. Her mother wasn’t much of a traditional syrup and butter type of gal. Emily took a moment to inhale the warm cinnamon scent while she took a seat by the window.

A few minutes later, her mother bumped their kitchen door open then strolled out with a plate piled high in each hand. One was blueberries and the other was chocolate chip. She signed for Emily to dig in, but leave a plate for Myles. With a nod, her mother went back into the kitchen to help clean up the mess.

---

Myle’s Morning

“There is a House, in New Orleans. They call the rising sun!” The lyrics to Bob Dylan’s version of the classic song were suddenly stopped by a fist slamming down upon an old alarm clock which shone the current time in bright red lights. For many, Four o’clock in the morning was earlier than they’d even consider waking up, especially for the first day of school. But it was a normal routine for fifteen-year-old Myles Pershing, who after a moment of groaning, snaked his way out of the blankets that covered his bed and stood drowsily beside it. He rubbed his eyes for a moment and then gave a large stretch of his body, shaking his limbs and fully waking up.

After a few more moments the boy padded out of his room and into the hallway, the colder air forming goosebumps all over his skin. He rubbed his arms a bit and opened the hallway closet, frowning as he noticed that there were no clean towels and resigned himself to using the one from the previous morning. He made his way into the bathroom and undressed out of his boxers while turning on the water for the shower. He started brushing his teeth as the water got warm and soon the everyday motions were in full swing.

Forty-five minutes later brought Myles back into his room. He was wearing a towel and already had his hair parted to the left as was usual. He dressed quickly, throwing on another pair of boxers and then pulling on a pair of jeans that had a hole in the knee. Unlike so kids, his jeans weren’t bought with such a hole. He had to work for that honor, wear them down until the fabric started protesting. Much like in life, said protests fell on deaf ears and as a final act of resistance decided to just come apart. To match the jeans, the now Sophomore wore a plain white t-shirt that went underneath a dark blue button-up shirt. Upon finishing, Myles gave himself a glance over in the mirror and shrugged.

It wasn’t going to get any better, and if he looked too bad he was sure that Emily would say something. He gave a smile as he thought about it, standing in her room and having her tsk while trying to iron out any wrinkles she saw. With that thought in his mind, he pulled on his Patriots hoodie and then started getting his school supplies all sorted. They were spread around his room as he had sorted each location to a specific subject. He still didn’t know why he did such a thing, but it did make it easier to move from subject to subject. He was still embarrassed at being so behind in his Freshman year, and thankful he had been given a second chance by his teachers, who passed him even though he toed the line. Even if one condition was that he had to get a tutor in math.

At first, Myles had been hesitant, not knowing how he was going to get along with his tutor, he wasn’t very good in social situations but hoped that since it was a small scale interaction he could work himself through it. He had managed to do such with Rosalyn after all. Luckily for him, Marie was not only really good at Math, but she was also easy to get along with. He wouldn’t truly consider her a ‘friend’ so to speak, but it was someone that he could say he didn’t just ignore.

He finished organizing his backpack and then stood at his door. His mind started racing, making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything and after nodding about six times at the mental checklist he gave a small smirk and grabbed his iconic powder blue earphones which covered his ears. He pulled his hoodie up over his head and clicked a button on his phone which began blaring an orchestral piece that he had recently loaded into his playlist the night prior. Just as he left his foster parents' house he glanced at the microwave and did fully smirk then. Five on the dot, perfect timing.

He made his way over to his bike and unlocked it from the fence. The lock was a recent addition to his routine, seeing as the local gangs seemed to enjoy stealing them and using them in drug deliveries. It made it harder on Law Enforcement because nine times out of ten none of the bikes the mules rode were their own which meant those descriptions couldn’t ever be trusted. And the last thing Myles wanted was trouble with gangs OR Police. He took off our of his drive-way and pointed himself South. He knew the route by heart so he didn’t have to worry about getting lost or making a wrong turn, but as he neared the end of his road which was thick with trees, he had to double-take as he saw a Wolf sitting on his haunches staring at him. Myles skidded to a stop and started turning, but the Wolf instantly stood and disappeared into the forest beyond.

With heart racing, the boy slowed his breathing and made a mental note to call in the wolf sighting to the New Hampshire wildlife officials and started back on his route. His eyes, however, continued to travel to his left, at the treeline. Soon enough he made it to one of the many bridges which separated the Northside from the South. He rode across it and stopped in his usual spot to text Emily, who was no doubt still snoozing.

"Good morning, I should be there for breakfast so long as I don’t, you know die or something. Hope we have Waffles!"

This was accompanied by a smiling emoji and Myles himself gave a half-smirk. As he went to put his phone away his eye caught on one of his contacts. Aiden (Da QB). Myles’ smirk left him and he wondered what Aidan had been up to during the summer break. He hoped it had been at least decent and Myles made another mental note to check in with him before practice. He was just about to move on when another contact made him frown. ‘Addy Spletzer’. His eyes narrowed and the last interaction he had with the self-styled reporter sprung to his mind.

Flashback Collab with Typical

Closing the door behind her, Addy pursed her lips, her pen tapping irregular bouts of fast and slow on her clipboard. She’d overstepped back there, let slip another question about Emily’s family, but she’d been unable to help it. Almost an hour of going over the girl’s past and Addy couldn’t even ask the questions she actually wanted to ask? It’d been torture, but her inability to sit through with a placid smile had lost her the story. The ‘good cop, bad cop’ game wasn’t one she could play with reporting, but she knew that. She’d just been unlucky this time.

Looking up, she spotted a familiar-looking boy approaching the house. Myles, if she remembered correctly. Well, since Emily wasn’t going to answer her questions, she couldn’t fault Addy for turning to secondary sources.

“Hey, Myles, right?” she asked, clicking her pen as she walked over. “Emily ever mention her siblings to you?”

"And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah.”

Myles had his head down, hands stuffed into a New England Patriots hoodie as he softly sang the words to Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. He didn’t need to see, having nailed down the route to Emily’s house a few weeks ago. This let him walk with his usual downward stare, letting most people just ignore him. But today, it seemed that such a thing wouldn’t happen. He almost walked right into Addy and looked up right in time to stop himself. He caught her mouth moving and sighed as he took out his phone and turned the volume down. He forced a quick half-smile and his eyes darted up to look at the girl for a moment as he spoke before the azure gaze quickly darted away and down again.

"Sorry, didn’t see you there. What was that you were saying, Mr. Cohen, was turned up slightly too loud.”

Addy squinted at the boy. Was that sarcasm? He wouldn’t dare try and brush her off. So, relaxing slightly, she planted herself in front of him with a thin smile.

“I was saying, I’d like to ask you a few questions about Emily’s siblings. Have you met any of them? Can you tell me about them?”

Within an instant, a few emotions flickered in Myles’ expression. First, it was surprise, followed by frustration, and then acknowledgment and the boy gave a sigh as he removed his earphones and let them hook around his neck. He frowned a bit but did raise his eyes to not appear rude. He wouldn’t keep said eye contact for long, but enough to hold her gaze while he spoke back to her.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I never asked about it?”

Addy stared at him for a second, her smile frozen. The little twat. “Why should I believe that?”

With another sigh, Myles shifted from his left foot to his right.

"Because sometimes the past should stay in the past. Do you ever think that by digging into it and bringing it out into the light that you’re hurting people? The past can be rough for anyone, and they just try to shove past it as best they can and focus on the future because they can make that better.”

His face morphed into a frown as he finished and he unconsciously rubbed his right arm with his left hand which then carded through his hair.

Tipping her head, Addy considered the kid’s words. He was attempting to make some general, profound-sounding statement about the past, but all Addy could see was how uncomfortable he was. The question, though, was whether he bothered by her presence or her questions.

“You have a past then?” she asked.

She was fishing right now, but the kid looked fishable. Like she could hook and sink him.

This was why he hated those with a notepad and pen. He gave a soft chuckle, his lips barely twinging upwards and his eyes gave a half roll. “Well I am human, and humans have a standard of time that consists of a past, a present, and a future so if we look at it logically I have a past, as does everyone that exists. Look, even if I did know anything about Emily’s siblings, which I don’t, I wouldn’t tell you. It’s not my story to tell, it’s hers and if she doesn’t want you taking her words and twisting them to write a story for the school paper, then more power to her.” He knew that he painted a target on his back with that statement, but if it kept Addy from going after Emily than it was worth it.

Addy considered the kid with narrowed eyes. He was telling the truth, as far as she could tell, but not the entire truth. Not about his past, at least—he’d deflected there. But his cocky mannerisms hinted at some sort of foul play. He was baiting her. And, because the story mill was running dry this close to summer, she was going to have to let him.
A buzz from her phone drew her attention and checking it prompted her to look up at the Mercedes parked at the curb. From the open passenger seat window, Clarence waved at her.

“Well, Myles, this was fun, and we are by no means done, got that?” she said, slipping her clipboard and pen into her tote. “I’ll see you later.”

Off she went towards the car, her schedule in her mind’s eye. There was a lot of research to do tonight, but she had options. Finding a better story, for one. Not every story required so much work for so little gain.
Myles watched her go hesitantly, he wasn’t sure if his deflection truly caught her attention but figured he’d just have to wait and see how things went. He sighed and decided to keep his earphones off as he turned and knocked on the door to Emily’s home. His thoughts were filled with all the worst-case scenarios that could come from Addy snooping around and fought off a groan even as the door opened to let him inside…

With a groan that matched the one, he gave that day he clicked his phone back to his music and clicked play before he tucked it into his hoodie pocket and pedaled off towards Emily’s house. His mind was filled with thoughts once again on what Addy was going to end up doing, or whether she had done any digging during the summer months.

He ended up making decent timing, pulling into Emily’s driveway at six-fifteen. He would have been there before but had stopped and helped Mrs. Berns with some shop supplies she was bringing in. He propped his bike against the garage, not bothering to lock it now that he was safely in the Southside of the town. He placed his helmet on the handle-bars and then removed the hood from his head, sending his hair into a tousled mess. He didn’t seem to care however and made his way to the door. He gave two knocks, waited, and then a third. It was ‘his’ usual knock so the family would know it was him. For good measure, he also rang the doorbell.

From the corner of her eyes, Emily had caught her father walking out of the kitchen. He disappeared into the small hallway leading into the foyer. She scrunched up her expression until she spotted the strobe lights flashing that indicates someone was at the door. Curious to see if Myles arrived or someone else, she pushed her chair out. She left her one-third eaten waffles behind as she followed her dad. Her form stopped just short and leaned against the wall adjacent to the den’s entrance. She stood there watching the two converse until someone noticed her.

“Myles, you’re later than usual. Everything all right?” Her father asked without sign language. His hand gestured the younger boy in while he stepped to the side, closing the door behind Myles.

” Oh yes Sir, Mr. Sawyer. I was helping Mrs. Bern with some boxes and got distracted by the sunrise. It was quite a sight today.”

He found himself smiling past the man and spotted Emily watching from the wall and his half-smirk grew to a full one. It was strange, he didn’t like to smile and for the most part never did, sticking to sideways and half-smiles that never reaches his eyes. But Emily was an exception, though others were growing on him at the school.

As the door closed behind him Myles couldn’t help but feel truly welcomed to the home. It had taken a while but he was starting to feel like part of the family, or at least, not a stranger. He followed along behind the man who was leading them towards the kitchen and gently nudged Emily as he passed. He brought his hands up and signed over to her.

Morning, everything ok?

Emily’s father accepted his answer and began to pull back to the dining room, leaving the two to talk. She nodded then spoke with her hands.

I’m just happy to see you. Come on, or I’m going to finish the waffles myself.

She increased her smile as she gestured for him to follow her.

And follow along Myles did, the familiar hallway leading into the kitchen where he could smell the residual cooking. He kept moving until they came to the dining room and Myles gave a half-smile to Mrs. Sawyer, inclining his head respectfully.

” Good morning Mrs. Sawyer, thank you for inviting me for breakfast, and for the ride to school.”

He didn’t hover too long in a standing position as his eyes had gone straight to the waffles that sat upon the table. He slid into his regular spot and tried not to look like a starving child.

He waited until Emily sat and got situated and then hesitated, the old familiar ‘should I just grab a waffle?’ hitting his brain. He didn’t want to assume and didn’t want to seem too familiar to the family so they took offense. He shot a ‘help me’ look to Emily and shifted in his chair.

Emily had started to dig in until she felt Myles look at her. She paused and glanced at him, her lips frowned. She quickly signed.

Really? You’ve been here long enough, you might as well be family. Grab a few waffles and toppings.

She shook her head as she returned to finish her four waffles.

Myles gave a nod, accepting the words with a shrug. He started digging in happily, filling his plate with quite a good many waffles before starting to pour syrup on top. He didn’t use too much however, not wanting to drown the flavour of the well-made breakfast. He started eating voraciously, yet still politely, keeping track of any conversations and nodding when applicable. After the fifth? Sixth? Hard to count, he stopped and leaned back with a grateful nod.

Amazing as always, thank you! He wasn’t sure which parent had cooked this time, and as such looked to either of them.

Emily’s mom looked pleased as she began to clean the platters which held the food earlier. She signed with one hand.

At least we don’t need to make room in the fridge.

Emily snorted again with her odd laugh. It made her mother happy as she added, Get your bag, I’ll be out shortly. Father is going to pick you two up after school.

Even after her mom mentioned it, her father had already started to head to his bedroom for a long-overdue nap. Emily pushed out from the table to rush over to him and sign him a good night. It was enough to make his tired expression curl into a warming one.

You have a good day at school. He signed back then disappeared into the hallway.

Emily turned to Myles then signed a question, Did you put your bike into the garage?

Myles felt his cheeks burning just a bit at the jest, catching the tail end of it, but decided to take it as a compliment. He watched as Mr. Sawyer headed off for his room and was reminded that the man would likely be napping for most of the morning. He felt his lips tug upwards as Emily and her father interacted and then had it disappear before darker thoughts clouded the wholesome moment.

As such, his face was neutral when she turned to him and he shook his head.

Was way to hungry, I figured I’d do it before we left.

He was getting quite good at sign language, though he was far from an expert. He kept his motions slow and consistent while still mouthing the words as well.

She nodded.

I’ll grab my bag and necklace, then meet you outside. Emily moved for her bedroom.

Myles returned the nod and headed outside, snagging his own backpack which he had deposited beside the door when he entered. He walked the ‘vehicle’ into the garage and leaned it against the wall before slipping the lock around the body. He gave a nod and waited beside the car for Emily and her mom. He would occasionally kick at the ground a bit, and resisted the urge to turn his music on.

Emily came through the door and stepped down the porch steps onto the sidewalk. Her fingers fiddled with a senior ring dangling about her neck for a moment. A habit to assure her it was there. Her bag was a common, plain backpack with patches on the front and keyrings hanging off the sides. The car was sitting out in the driveway waiting for them. She signed for him to head into the left side while she went into the right.

When they situated into their seats, her mom opened the door and popped into the driver’s side. She glanced into the rearview mirror then signed.

Everyone buckled up?

Emily Exggerated her eye roll so Myles could easily see it. She reached for her own seat belt and secured it in place. Mrs. Sawyer glanced at Myles, seeing him already buckled in, then turned on the ignition. The car began to pull out.

It was a habit by that point for Myles to simple buckle in the second he was in his seat, he gave a genuine wide grin as he caught Emily rolling her eyes at him and just shrugged. He nodded into the rearview mirror as he noticed Mrs. Sawyer asking if they were belted in and then removed his phone. He started a simple playlist, something peppy to prepare him for the day to come, and he placed the phone on the seat right beside him in case Emily wanted to feel the vibrations from it.

Other than the music, the thirty-some minute ride went quickly and before Myles knew it they were pulling into the schools drop off zone. He glanced over to Emily to make sure she knew they were here and then signed to Mrs. Sawyer. Thanks for the ride again. I’ll make sure Emily gets to class ok. And if anything happens I have your number. He was sure he had messed up at least part of that but was sure that Mrs. Sawyer knew what he was saying.

Mrs. Sawyer nodded and signed for them to have a good day. When they finally exited, she drove off and headed to work.

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

I think discord could be good to get relations down easier and to just chill with everyone!

@Daydreamz

I agree, especially with immediate replies to posts. Emily will be rather observant, so I'll likely be asking a lot of questions for posts. However for longer term plans or stuff I want to see, I'll likely use the OOC.

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

<Snipped quote by Lionhearted>

Could always keep him as a back up character in the event anything happens to your current one but otherwise with our cast size I think it's best to stick to one character per player for the time being.

@Lord Wraith

That was actually something I was thinking of too. Cause the way it sounds... characters can die. XD I'm considering coming up with another character in the event Emily dies, but I'm going to do my best to prevent it.

PS: If you don't hear from Daydreamz, they might be clawing out of the mountain of story crumbles I gave them. >_>

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

I spotted that, lol! Yay!

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

Oof, yes let's get some cute boys in here. Myles needs some boys to stare at dreamily while warring with himself mentally about his desires@

And Myles is cute! In a younger brother, still coming into his own way!

@Fallenreaper

@Daydreamz

I am sure Em and him would get along well. Could even be in some classes together or happened to come across each other after school.

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

<Snipped quote by Fallenreaper>

Implying all GMs work the same, psh!

@Lord Wraith

Only the good ones make a character's life hell. :P

The Haunting of Crestwood Hollow - A Supernatural Coming of Age Story

<Snipped quote by Fallenreaper>

What the hell kind of GMs do you play with? Aiden for all intents and purposes is a player character. Jonas on the other hand...

@Lord Wraith

I was one once. :P So I know what goes into plots and planning, but I've never had complaints.