Nemaisare

When It Rains, It Pours

Ahahahahaha! Wondrous! Absolutely wondrous! Next time someone asks what you need a deck of cards for, I totally have the answer.

When It Rains, It Pours

All of the wondrous animal mixes. lol That sounds like such fun.

When It Rains, It Pours

Ooh, that sounds exciting. I made myself a little ratfolk witchling from the ummm Empire... desert, something.. Kelesh! Empire of Kelesh! named Rassa. And her familiar is a stubborn dairy goat named Ibi. And it is wonderful. All of the jokes. I still have no idea what the GM has planned for all of us, but so far, she's managed to stay out of the two big skirmishes that happened because I had to go talk to Granny the first one, so she just hid under the table, and then the second one, I was all, eeeeh, I'll have her go out the back way and sneak around on the bad guys! But it took her so long to get around the house that the fight was over by the time she got to them... heh...

blackbird claw, raven wing [ closed for El Taco Taco && Nemaisare ]

We're just awesome like that.

blackbird claw, raven wing [ closed for El Taco Taco && Nemaisare ]

He waited.

She stared.

He watched.

She went to the tree.

Behind her, as her clumsy-numbed fingers worked at the chain, he paced. It likely did not ease her attempts, having the chain pulled back and forth, back and forth. She was not letting him go. A singsong croon worked its way up from his throat, rising and falling impatiently, rolling across the ground in a reverberating rumble that gave vent to his displeasure.

But there was no time now, to force his desire on her. He didn’t know how to remove the shackles. He didn’t know how to show her any other way that this was all he wanted. It was not, just then, the only thing he wanted. So, when the links slackened and she turned to him, chain once again curled about her arms, he looked at her for a second longer, eyes heavy lidded, sharply focused, breathing fast, muscles bunched. Chained was not what he wanted. But leaving… Leaving was.

He needed no second urging, but rushed forward, stumbling as the shackles hobbled him, thrashing into a roll. He tried again to run. Eager to place whatever distance he could between the dead thing and its hunger. But when he tripped again not long after, he wailed, sounding very like the young boy he appeared to be, picked himself up and ran on his two feet. There was a stilted, jilting method to his running, as though he did not know how to push himself forward when he was standing even a little upright. Headlong flight, however, did not require grace. He did not care to keep his dignity.

So, ignoring every pain still biting into him, he tucked his wrists in close, leaned forward and went. Overtaking Samaire in a few moments.

He ran until his lungs were fire. Until his feet were stumbling stone. Until his breath wheezed. Nothing could have stopped him but catching that chain around a tree. He ran until water rushed about his knees in a heady momentum that left him dizzy when he finally stopped, swaying, confused, lost. A river. A wide river, movement, motion, magic at the edges.

Chest heaving, he lifted his nose to the wind and snuffed desperately at the air, panting, until he found that gentle promise of life and living. It was there. The dead thing did not reach here. Safe. He collapsed, snorting as water splashed up his nose. His throat hurt. His feet hurt. His chest hurt. Everything hurt. But the river’s banks were clean, soft mud, and he let himself sink into it, the water easing his aches, though it promised to add to them if he stayed in it too long. He didn’t want to move. He wasn’t sure he could, now he’d stopped.

When It Rains, It Pours

yay! I look forward to it! And hope you are having fun with Pathfinder-ness! I actually have a game going on now too, omg Nem joined a Pathfinder game, the world will now explode! :P I have no idea what I'm doing, but it's fun.

When It Rains, It Pours

Kal Jaso

Don't keep telling me you're trying when I know you're lying

---

Age: 43
Mutation: Sees capabilities
Occupation: Card sharp, trucker
Face claim: Adrien Brody

Power

Kal can see the present capabilities of people. He’s able, with a glance and surprisingly accurate intuition, to figure out what a person might accomplish at that particular moment. It works on any sentient thing, really, but he mostly uses it on humans or mutants. As long as he can see the being he wants to know about, it doesn’t matter how far away or close they are, he can learn something about them. It works mainly via a simplified Q&A routine, wherein he looks at the person, asks what he wants to know, and comes up with the answer. It’s something of a sixth sense, and can be done entirely internally and takes less time than it would were he to ask the question out loud. He already knows his own mind.

He can find out quite a lot, from rudimentary survival skills to languages known to something like mutual acquaintances or what movies they’ve seen, provided he can come up with the right questions. There’s no list of facts readymade that jumps into his head as soon as he’s spotted someone, which is nice, because it doesn’t overload his brain. However, it does mean there’s a slight delay between seeing someone and knowing what they can do. As well, he receives no prompting other than through curiousity or circumstance as to what questions to ask and no more information back than a simple yes or no, and while he doesn’t necessarily need to know specifics to gain answers, he does need them if he wants to know the specifics. For instance, he can readily pick out the one person in a crowd who could accomplish whatever it is he wants of them. Say... Fixing his motorcycle. He doesn’t need to know what’s wrong with the bike or who they are, or how they’d do it. But if he wants to find someone who can get him a new Mikuni carburetor with a 28mm bore size and a 35mm spigot mount so he can fix the bike himself, he needs to know that’s what he’s looking for.

And if he wants to know that someone can speak Tshiluba, he’d have to know the language exists, unless all he’s looking for is someone who can translate for the lady he can’t understand. So, if he doesn’t know something’s possible, the likelihood of his realising that someone can manage it is much smaller than if it’s an obvious skill anyone might have.

Visibility is the main limit to his intuition, as if he can’t see you, there’s no one to ask about. He can’t direct his focus otherwise. The individual in question does not, however, have to be physically present. He could use a reflection of them, or a video, he can ask about people on TV. Visual clarity is not a concern, but still pictures don’t work. The thing he has to remember, though, is that while he might find out that a person is capable of doing something they didn’t even know about themselves, he cannot know what they might be able to do in the future, or what they could do but can’t anymore. People and their abilities change over time, and his intuition does not account for that, so his answers can and will change if the person learns something new or forgets what they used to know. And answering a question on the subject is different from being physically capable of an action. But if he doesn’t ask again, he won’t find out. And if he’s using a video of a person, then the abilities he knows about are from the time of filming, and might not be current. Or at all relevant, if the person in the film is dead...

Even more importantly, whether or not someone can do something has absolutely no bearing on whether or not they will. The nature of his intuition gives him both a better knowledge of what others are inherently capable of, no training necessary, and therefore what they don’t do that they could, which gives him a more cynical outlook on humanity as a whole, but it has also inspired him, and allowed him to inspire others by having faith where someone else might have doubted.

Beyond his intuition, Kal is a relatively average man who’s picked up a few extra tips and tricks from living life. He knows a few languages, though he’s only fluent in English, he has a working knowledge of French, Euskara and Spanish. He’s learned how to protect himself in a fight, though he’s by no means trained in any martial arts. He’s developed rather good interpersonal skills, learning how to read people and intentions and how defuse tense situations, or say just the right thing to catch attention or build up confidence. He’s not above mistakes, of course, but with plenty of practise under his belt, he’s become something of a fast talker, hard to pin down and easy to get along with.

Interrogation

Tell us about when your powers or abilities manifested. How did you accept them? And how did the public react to them?
Manifested, huh? Pulling out the fancy words there and all wasted on little old me. I don’t remember ever not knowing. ‘Course, a baby’s most like t’want someone t’feed it, right, so I don’t figure I had much reason to want to toss my head out and buy me a new one when I was that little. Though, might explain why I never cared for Dad all that much, ha! Nah, see, might give me the odd blazing headache, but it makes it up to me better’n I ever figured sometimes. So, I done myself a favour and didn’t never tell no one, and the times I’ve had folks accusing me’a cheatin’... Hell, I coulda paid my way through college fleecing them poor sheep.

Is there anything, abilities aside, that you are particularly good at?
Talking. You grow up next a brother like mine and you’d be wasting words left, right and centre same’s me. Even know a few different languages, enough t’get by, anyhow. Got a good memory, too, I suppose, names and faces and the things you might get up to, good stuff to keep in mind, yeah.

What is your relationship with your family? Do you have brothers or sisters? Any other known relatives?
Dad’s gone, heart troubles, you know? Crashed the car. Bugger if he didn’t do it so’s to get the last laugh. Mum’s moved back home to the Pyrenees, we don’t keep up with her much. Check in some though, always good t’know she’s still alive, though she don’t want a thing to do with Prhy. Yeah, he’s my brother. Half-brother, if you want technicals, but I don’t much care for making the distinction. Live in the same trailer, it’s his, you don’t care, he does, had to be said with him glaring over there... We’re close enough had folks asking if we’re close, you get my meaning? Ha!

What are your vices or guilty pleasures?
I do like my card games, winning’s a guilty pleasure, and that sugar cereal, whatsit? Toast something... Cinnamon Toast Crunch, that’s it! And Prhy’s cooking, I tell you, if there’s ever you need a reason for me keeping him around, and I know it’s your trailer, quit looking so constipated, you just try one of his samosas, or a bowl a’his baked beans and chips. Good stuff. Speaking of, you staying for dinner? It’s getting on t’that time.

What are you afraid of? Why?
Heh, Prhy there’s a good man to fear in the early hours if you leave your alarm on with him around. I tell you, it’s a sight to wake to, it is. Nightmare worthy. But you want to know what’s real frightening then? Laugh and I swear, Prhy... I’ll give that kid my whistle, just you see I don’t. Alright, I’m not the sort likes thinking hisself a fearful man, y’know, but there’s bits of being lonely give me the willies. It’s a scary thing when you know isn’t no one got your back. My line of work, going it all alone isn’t smart. Never liked being centre stage neither. Somehow it’s a world of difference once the pressure’s on to perform. Stage fright, I guess. And I don’t trust a compliment neither. Dangerous things, go right to your head.

Is there anything you’re particularly proud of?
Anything I’m particularly proud of? Now what sort of a question is that t’ask a man just said what I said? Pride’s self complimenting, isn’t it just! Ain’t interested in tooting my own horn. Next question.

If the choice was presented to you between rescuing someone from a burning building or saving a big bag of money, which would you decide on?
Alright now, first off, I’d like to be knowing what I’m doing in a burning building with the time to be making any sort of choice like that. And ‘less that bag’s got itself one of those fancy money signs just t’be all transparent ‘bout its stuffing, don’t see why I’d be stuck with that sort of decision t’all.

If there was anything you could change about yourself, what would it be?
Well, it wouldn’t be my rugged good looks... What? You don’t think I’ve got a manly enough chin? Ahaha, shoulda seen your face there. Brilliant. ... Oh, alright, straight up, I dunno. Boring ass answer, isn’t it?

Last chance. Is there anything we missed that you would like to talk about?
Are you staying for dinner? Honest to goodness now, Prhy’s been glaring that question at your back this whole time. A simple yes or no afore he explodes’d be nice.

When It Rains, It Pours

Whoo! I wrote it! Look! I did! I really did!

So, uhh, yeah, it's not perfect, I kinda just babbled because I wasn't entirely certain how to start it. If you want things changed or even a whole different scenario, I'm down for that. We'd just need to babble at each other some more. :P

Also, please ignore the words Prhy is saying that aren't English. They are an actual language, but whether or not I'm using them correctly is a whole other can of worms. So, uh, yeah... I won't have him using them a lot, but English is not his first language. Yerp.

Have at! The fellow who's bothering them about parking on his property is supposed to be Sammie's dad, in case that wasn't obvious... >.>

When It Rains, It Pours

“Kal.”

“Mmf.”

“Kal.”

……..

“Jaiki, Kal.”

The low growl accompanying the additional word had him grunting and rolling over to rub at his eyes. He glared at his brother reproachfully, for all the man was looming over his bed in the small space provided and had a better face for it, he felt that, given the late, or despicably early, hour, he had every right to express his irritation. Prhy, however, rarely did anything without good reason. So, for all his annoyance, and great wish to wake up without sleep deprivation, for once, please!, three times was all it took. At the very least, he could be grateful that the bed he was on could not be lifted up without risking injury. That used to be his brother’s preferred wake up call.

So, he sat up, still trying to get a bit of stubborn crust out of one eye and squinted up through the dim light shining in from the window. “What?” If he was a little snappy, it wasn’t his fault. He always woke up grumpy. Prhy was good at ignoring him.

“Gu hemen.”

“We’re here? Where’s here? For heaven’s sake, Prhy, I’m too tired for Euskara.” In all honesty, he probably should have known what the man meant, they’d discussed it the night before and he knew where they’d been headed. But he was apparently too tired to think at all. His brother, snorting, condescended to help him out. “Loud girl’s farm. Smells. Gizona hitz egiten… outside.”

“What?!” Kal was awake and full of energy after all, when he realised what his brother had been trying to tell him. Bolting upright, he shouldered past Prhy to swing the trailer door open and stare in dismay at the farmhouse they were apparently parked beside. And there was the man Prhy had promised him, blinking right back at him, hand raised to knock. “Ah, excuse me, sorry, is this Samantha Bray’s home?”

With nothing but boxers on, a bedhead, and obviously confused state of mind, Kal was quite sure he was making an incredible first impression. But he honestly hadn’t expected Prhy to park the trailer right outside the girl’s front door. Was that more or less creepy than his original plan of parking a bit off the road and walking up to knock politely on the front door? He had no idea. But he was wondering if they’d get chased off the property at gun point.

When he was merely frowned at, which was all good and proper considering the circumstances, but not altogether useful, he frowned right back and considered the possibility of messages getting passed along. The man would do for that, well enough. “Right well, anyway, could you pass along that we’re hoping to have a word with her? S’only a brief bit of a chat, promise.”

Heck, it might even only be one word if they let Prhy do the talking…

With that, message suitably delivered because there was no way he was going to step any further out of the trailer in socks and boxers, Kal tried out a smile that turned into something more like a grimace, shut the door again, and turned to tell Prhy exactly what he thought of this whole fiasco. They’d come here because they’d been nearby when he’d seen an article in the paper about some car getting wrecked while parked and two teens getting sent to the hospital. Later news had mentioned that one was dead. The other, however, he’d suspected might need some help. There hadn’t been many details released, but enough to leave that measure of uncertainty about the situation, so, just in case it was a mutant, they’d made a detour.

It wouldn’t be the first time they picked up mutants in need. They’d met more than a few troublemakers or just always in the wrong place at the wrong time sort of people. And what with the trend of powers manifesting during puberty, he wasn’t really surprised. Usually, however, they didn’t drive right up to anyone’s door and just announce themselves so openly. Sure, it was still night and all, and Prhy would know better than most if anyone else was about, but it was still… “Couldn’t at least have given me some warning, huh? Oh no, just up an’ at ‘em, Kal, rise and shine we got guns and pitchforks at the door an’ I don’t want to deal with ‘em, you do it.”

Grumbling and muttering to himself, he dragged on the jeans and shirt he’d thrown over the seat back after he’d turned it into his bed, glaring at his brother’s back all the while. “What’s wrong with a morning hike, eh? S’good to stretch the legs out, stay low, under the radar. Isn’t like there’s any chance the good gov’ment’s gonna be turnin’ its big ol’Sauron eye thisaway any time soon. Oh no, not a chance!”

When he’d pulled on his long coat (an affectation that either made him look mysterious, or suspiciously like a flasher) and found his boots and there’d still been no response from the man lying in the back, looking right peaceful, damn him, Kal narrowed his eyes at the lump before huffing and banging down the steps and out the door. “Now I’m talking to myself. Bloody fat bastard.”

He growled and kicked the grass, having learned a few of his manners from his brother, they’d been living together too long. Then, stuffing his hands in his pockets and cursing the chill still in the air, he strode towards the house, hoping they’d ask first, shoot never.

blackbird claw, raven wing [ closed for El Taco Taco && Nemaisare ]

Go us! :P Whoo!