Prosaic

Vivid Recollections: Into the World Unknown (Season 1 COMPLETE)

I'd like to title this collab with @Surtr Inc: Martin annoys the hell out of Hagan and everyone has a grand old time.

Vivid Recollections: Into the World Unknown (Season 1 COMPLETE)

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Grand Ridge Academy - The Hallway to the Male Dorms.

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Hagan visibly cringed when Martin said all these things to him. No. No way that he's getting his fag on him - he reached in and grabbed Martin by his collar, staring him real close in the eye. Teeth barred.

"I don't know what faggy thoughts are goin' through that weird little head of yours..."

He pulled a fist back, keeping it hovering at a very threatening distance. He added on, "... but keep me out of 'im."

Just a little too close for comfort. 

Hagan had responded how he'd anticipated, and yet he'd still given a startled yelp. Luckily, it wasn't an immediate hit. If he egged him on any more then he was destined to get a swift punch to the face. It wasn't so much that getting punched scared him, it was that Hagan was particularly good at punching. He had been punched a lot, it wouldn't be the first or the last time but he really didn't feel like having his nose broken today.

Still, he'd obviously struck a nerve, even if he wasn't quite sure how. He'd never seen anything to indicate that Hagan was harboring any unspoken feelings towards men but then again, he barely knew him. Of course, he could just have an unnatural repulsion towards homosexual men. That didn't seem like a stretch.

"Listen, Hagan, as much as I'd love to dick around with you some more, I don't want to get punched." he casted his glance pointedly at Hagan's fist, wrinkling his nose as if it was an offensive substance. "So, if you could politely let me off the hook for smearing my gay flirtations all over your atmosphere, that would be great."

"Well, nobody wants to get punched," Hagan replied, shortly and sweetly. "But, they do get socked any way."

Of course, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't ever keep his mouth shut entirely. "I've really got to ask though," he really should shut up but he had to know and maybe it would distract Hagan from beating him senseless. "Can you really see that tattoo on my neck? It's an actual, physical thing?"

"The fuck? Are you some kinda sparkly vampire that can't use a fuckin' mirror?" Hagan asked with a raised eyebrow. "Of course I can see it."

"No, but it would be really fucking cool if I was- Not the point! Not my point." he grimaced, "Can you uh. . . let me go for a second? I promise that you can deck me in the eye if none of what I'm about to say is of any interest to you." He threw Martin off, silently nodding his head and taking him up on his offer - no matter how retarded it sounded.

That was a wager that he could lose very easily. "I didn't get a tattoo, I don't know where the hell that thing came from. Honestly, I'm kind of freaking out that you can see it because my doctor sure as hell couldn't. I mean, don't get me wrong, she could be an unreliable source but I highly doubt that." he spun his hand as if it might speed himself along. "I guess I'm saying that-Jesus, I don't know what I'm saying. I really don't want to get hit. How high is the likelihood that someone gave me a tattoo when I was passed out on pain medication or something?"

Hagan took a moment to think about it - but not too hard. He didn't want to think too hard about what fag-boy is saying... but at the same time, he has a similar tattoo on his chest. One of a mighty shield... he noticed it on him the night after everything that happened. Though, this wasn't something he was gonna say to Martin of all people. "... I don't know," Hagan shrugged, "Seems like one hell of a stretch."

"You're telling me, man, I'm the one with the weird fucking tattoo on my neck." he was mostly glad that he wasn't getting punched, that was preferable, at the very least. "I can't really say that I know how it got there then. One night it's not there, the next night it is. I've had more consistency with guys that don't call me back." 

"Ew."

A grimace followed that statement as well, he couldn't really hold back the honesty, it was one of his more irritating traits. "I mean, hell, I don't even know why I'm telling you this shit but I figure if you can see it then maybe I'm not insane or we're both insane."

"No, you're just crazy," Hagan rolled his eyes as he crossed his arm. "What she probably thought was that tattoo was so damn ugly that she didn't even want to mention it so she didn't hurt ya' feelings."

"Ouch," Martin said, though his tone didn't portray any sort of hurt. "How did you know that my weak point was the tattoo? Curse you and your ability to tear me down with your words."

He was trying to keep himself from getting prickly about this. Perhaps choosing to share this with Hagan instead of anybody else had been his first mistake. He hadn't expected that anyone could see it though and the fact that Hagan could was startling to him. Startling enough that he'd taken the chance on asking him about it.

"Hagan, I know you've got some sort of hang up on making me feel like shit but can we be serious for a second? Why are you the only one who can see this? I mean, it's not that I don't  love your shining personality and pretty brown eyes but if I'm slowly spiraling into psychosis, you're not the guy I'd pick to have along for the ride. You haven't clocked me in the eye yet, so this must resonate with you a little."

"That can change at the droooop at a hat, friend," Hagan said, while rolling his eyes. "I don't know why I can see this tattoo - maybe you should ask a uh, say, a third party." That was Hagan's advice. "Then, we put this weird shit to rest."

He knew very well that Hagan would have no complaint with hitting him in the eye. At least he cared  enough to honor a wager, how charming. It almost made Martin like him, he was sure that Hagan didn't share the sentiment.

"Okay, so you want me to find some rando and ask him if he can see my tattoo? Just any old person?" he could respect that, at least then he'd be able to prove that it wasn't just visible to anyone. "I can do that, in fact, in a hallway full of fleeing teenagers, I'd venture to say that would be easy. Jeez, have we really taken the time to think about how idiotic it is that we're standing around admist a fire alarm?"

He didn't stand around further to ponder that query, instead he brushed off his coat and squeezed around Hagan to get back into the hall. From there, he grabbed the arm another one of the evacuating young men and he smiled at him very brightly, perhaps a bit too brightly, it was a little more than forced. "Hey, man, so I know we've never met and that's a damn shame but I'm Martin. Do you like my  neck tattoo? I always wanted a senseless swirly thing, it's meaninglessness is what makes it so special to me."

"What tattoo?" was the slightly confused and just a little scared response. "You don't have a tattoo."

"Well, gee, it seems I don't, sorry about that confusion."

"Okay then?" the other party was already trying to retreat and Martin hurried it along with a shooing motion. 

He turned back to Hagan. "And there you have it, Hagan. What the hell is going on? You're listening to me and you're not beating me senseless, so, what does this mean to you?"

When he turned back, Hagan had a raised eyebrow... okay, maybe there was a bit of something to think about. Maybe this was just one big prank that he was playing on him? Yeeeeeeah... that was what was going on. "I bet that 'rando' was a bud of yours - maybe your boyfriend, even." Hagan said. "There ain't no other explanation for this, fagboy. Everything's backed by a bit of science...."

"It's cute that you think I've got a boyfriend, flattering even." he said, "It's even cuter that you think that I've got friends. Literally, my only friend is Rita and unfortunately for me, she's not here at the second."

"Who the fuck is Rita?" Hagan incredulously asked. "Actually, I don't wanna know."

He was getting irritable, he wasn't a person that was known for his temper but he was known for being easy to push over the edge. It was then that the room went black, the color drained completely out of it. It could have easily been mistaken for a flickering light, it came back relatively quick but it had killed every speck of light in the hall for the few moments that it had happened. 

"The hell?" Hagan exclaimed with a raised eyebrow. The flash of darkness definitely didn't go unnoticed by Hagan. Though, for a moment, his sigil activated as if it was some kind of defense mechanism.

"You know what, Hagan, it doesn't really matter. I wouldn't even take my own word on this. So, if you're not going to believe me and you're not going to deck me then why are we loitering about? Someone might start to think that you can tolerate my presence and that would be awful."

"I can always change that," Hagan raised a fist. The way he kept bringing it up made it sound like maybe he wanted to be punched. Or shoved into a locker. Or something.... "Know what...." Hagan just threw a punch right for Martin's gut. Not exactly a full force blow, but enough to knock the wind outta him.  

The boy doubled over and reeled backwards, instinctively throwing his hands up over his face as if to block any other blows.  The room went black again, another moment of solid darkness, this time it was just a bit longer. Almost as if he were trying to conceal himself in the shade. It flickered away again, the lights searing into Martin's eyes when they returned.

He had gotten sort of used to the darkness flickering in and out around him lately, he had also gotten used to the onset of grogginess that followed it.

He was expecting to get hit and he had mentioned it enough that it might as well have been an invitation. "Okay-" he wheezed. "I know I kept  saying it but you didn't have to do it. Jeez, I'm used to these things ending in the shit getting kicked out of me. It's like weird to me that you're not ripping my head off my body. Forgive me for being baffled, big guy, but that's just normal for me."

At least Hagan hadn't gone full force on his face. That was nice. "Can I ask you something, Hagan? Like, as a fond acquaintance that you bully sometimes."

Hagan narrowed his eyes, with a strange curiousity, "What?"

Straight to the point, "You've let me waste way more of your time than I deserve. I'm glad you're willing to waste more, it warms my heart. I think we're really bonding." he cleared his throat. "Has anything odd been happening to you since the camp trip? Like, weird dream kind of odd. I haven't really gotten to ask Rita, but I know that you were there too."

"... Like what kind?" Hagan entertained him.

"Like uh," he couldn't believe he was about to get confessional with Hagan but honesty demanded honesty, right? 

He refused to believe that there wasn't something more to this, there had to be a reason that Hagan could see that marking. "I've had a lot of fucked up dreams lately, I'm not really going to go into detail but last night, I had this one in particular. With these two kids and this jacked up park ranger. He was like  literally trying to feast on their entrails or something. It was gross. The whole thing was just really messed up but one of the kids, he got this mark on him. They called him "awakened". Have you been having dreams like this? I know that's weird to ask but it can't be any weirder than imaginary tattoos, right?"

".. they were saved by those weirdos in robes?" Hagan said, his aggressive, dismissive demeanor shrugging off, over time.

This was progress and the fact that he'd responded honestly was enough to ease Martin's tense shoulders. "Yes!"

For the first time since they'd started talking, a very earnest smile found it's way onto Martin's face. "You had the same dream, that's- well, I'm going to be honest, that's weird but I think this means something, right? It has to mean something. Hagan, be honest with me here, do you have a mark like mine?"

Looking away a bit awkwardly, Hagan decided to just pull his T-shirt aside a bit, and show Martin the sigil - the shield that was on his chest.

"Dude, " he arched his eyebrows. "That's- That's something alright. So, this is a thing. This is happening."

He was a little more than confused, a little grateful that he wasn't crazy, and extremely curious. "Thank you for being upfront about this, it means a lot. I've been freaking out and knowing that it's not just me. . . Well, I feel much better. " the dark-haired boy looked thoughtful. "We both got these weird ass marks after the camping trip. Things were obviously pretty jacked up that night, I mean, that thing was barely human. Did this happen to everyone that was there? I can't imagine it's just me and you, as great a team that we make. What do you make of this, Hagan? What do you think it means?"

"I don't have a good answer to any of these god damn questions," Hagan just bluntly stated with a shrug. Everything that happened here goes past any possible explaination. "Everything's been pretty screwy lately... but how's about this..." He trailed off, realizing he had a good way to get away from this fag. "... How about we ask everyone who was there about these marks?"

"That's a lot of people, big guy." though, he did think it was a good idea, for the most part. "Let's start smaller though, I can ask Rita, because I know her. Hell, I could probably ask Kimberly or Rien. You seem to know the punk chick, you could probably ask her."

Claire immediately came to mind - the firecracker that he had a thing for, but yet she didn't seem to feel the same way. Was it because he didn't dress punk? Buuuuut... Martin boy here had a point. He could ask her... where ever she was.

Though, it was a long shot, he didn't want to struggle to contact Hagan again. "Don't take this wrong but can I get your number? It might be easier to check back with you and you won't have to be seen in public with me. I'd hate to hurt your image."

Hagan bared his teeth - he didn't want to do this, but he sighed as he said. "... Get out your damn phone."

"Thanks, pal." he couldn't help but find this a little amusing but he brandished his phone and pulled up the contact screen, handing it over to Hagan. Hagan sighed again... he was gonna regret this at some point, but there was some serious weird shit goin' on. Even though he hated Fagboy, he also hated being one step behind everyone else more. So, he merely punched away his number, and shook his head.

"Alright then, man, I think it's safe to say that we're set. We should probably get the hell out of here. I'll message you with the details if I figure out anything important." he tucked his phone back into the pocket of his coat. "Seeya, wouldn't want to be ya or whatever the cool kids say."

"... Riiiiight back at you." Hagan rolled his eyes, praying that this wouldn't end horribly.

The Sands of Time

LOCATION — JAVA CAFE.
INTERACTING WITH — ELLIOT HORTON - @spooner

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"Elliot? How did you even manage to-"

He sighed heavily, shaking his head and deciding not to persue the subject. He liked Elliot, the guy seemed very serious about his relationship with his sister. Despite being younger, he could be a bit protective of Aliana. He didn't want to see her get hurt but Elliot seemed too nice for that, he seemed to be working his ass off to provide a good home for the two of them. He suspected that their families might be hearing the sounds of wedding bells in due time.

Of course, even if Elliot wasn't dating his sister, he still probably would have liked him. He was likeable by nature, and very friendly to boot. It was hard to think of a feasible reason not to like Elliot. The blonde Zima girl that had followed him inside seemed like she was thinking the same thing by the way she was looking at him. How could you not like Elliot?

When she refused Elliot's offer, he was a little grateful but when she started to set a date, his mouth curved into a peculiar frown. It wasn't his business, surely, but it was happening right in front of him. He wasn't sure if he worked tomorrow, his shifts could be sporadic but he'd asked for tomorrow off. His parents wouldn't appreciate it if he worked on one of their big days. He was starting to wish he'd agreed to come in anyway.

If the Zima girl wanted to get fresh with Elliot, he wanted to be there to report it back to Aliana. Of course, he trusted Elliot to some extent to not make the wrong decision but he didn't really trust the Zima girl. He didn't even know her, she was just some pretty blonde that liked her coffee with white chocolate on top. It would be terribly assumptive for him to make any guesses about her based on that.

If she tried to put the moves in on Elliot then his sister was going to be pissed. The whole conversation conspiring between them was enough to make him leery. Really, what mattered was if Elliot accepted her offer. Though, that wasn't automatically bad, it was still a little bit of a shifty move.

He could see Elliot's younger sister calling out to Elliot, camera in clutch, and a grin that could only be described as devious upon her face. The girl took off on her skateboard at light speed, assumably with incriminating evidence. He couldn't help but pity Elliot for what he'd have to face if Aliana chose to believe that those photos meant anything. He'd hate for them to argue over nothing.

"Hate to be that dude, Elliot, but you better go catch up with her. If you need anyone to vouch for you, you've got me."

He saluted Elliot before turning back to his work.
It wasn't like he could do much more, Aliana was working and she wouldn't actively be checking her phone. If he dropped her a message then it would likely be sitting there until she was free. That would be useless and he could get in trouble for tapping away at his phone during the work hours. Though if Aliana asked him, he'd tell her exactly what he'd made of the situation.

Welcome To Rawyn - A Supernatural Mystery

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Allan McCullough

South Rawyn - Community Center

Interactions

@2plus2isnot5

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As more people began to fill in the small area, he began to realize that this wasn't just about press coverage.
They weren't a huge group but they weren't a small group either. Naturally, he was becoming extremely confused because this wasn't exactly a normal situation. He held his tongue as the others chorused in their confusion or in one guy's case, his lack of confusion.

The only thing that Allan was currently lacking was the stomach to eat any of the provided refreshments. They looked fine but he liked to attribute his success to being cautious. A good journalist did what he could to get a good story, a better journalist did what he could cautiously. Coming here hadn't been his most cautious move but he'd been expecting the worst. He would have rather been forced to listen to a serial killer ramble on about what he'd done than to have went home empty-handed.

The young lady began to embark on her story and it was weird. He was good at investigative journalism. He wasn't so great with the supernatural and that's what this girl seemed to be hinting at. She said everything so earnestly though, either she was telling the truth or she really believed herself. He didn't know if he believed her but he knew that he was curious.

That was the problem with Allan, he was constantly curious. There was constantly something to find under the surface. He wasn't content with what could be seen, he needed to know what couldn't be seen as well. A childhood of asking "Why is the sky blue?" had become an adulthood of asking "Why did this happen? Could it have been stopped?" If he didn't ask questions then he would never know the entire truth.

He was suspicious too, that was another problem with Allan. He took everything that was said with a grain of sand. This could very easily be a cover up, maybe an accident had happened that had lead to her friend's untimely doom. Maybe she was a witness. So much could be wrong with this story and he had no way to garner the truth. So, he let his curiosity think for him and he nodded.

"Kid, I don't really know what kind of rabbit hole that you're going to lead us down but I'll help." he said, though he sounded as if he were on the fence about it. "Do you mind if I take notes? I'm a journalist for The Rawyn Times, its a bit of a habit at this point."

[HIGH CASUAL] Her Majesty's Spirit

Marion Gifford

{ "The commoners aren't really my cup of tea." }

Charming || Flawed Design || Arrogant

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Basic Info

| {Full Name} |

Marion Arthur Gifford.

| {Titles/Nicknames} |

Prince Marion, Mari.

| {Date of Birth} |

January 20th.

| {Age} |

24.

| {Gender} |

Male.

| {Sexuality} |

Heterosexual.

| {Relationship Status} |

Single.

| {Nationality} |

Thelannian.

| {Place of Residence} |

Thelan.

| {Face Claim} |

Benjamin Barnes.

| {Dialogue Color} |

9e005d

Appearance

"I am rather beautiful."

Marion is tall, standing in around five-ten and very lean of frame. He was never built with much muscle but he's got a kind of wiry look to him. He has broad shoulders and an elegant curve to his neck, a well defined chin and a very smug mouth. It's not a stretch to call him handsome and he seems to expect it, his overall presence is one of grace and refine. He's learned to hold himself perfectly and one would never find him lounging or slumping.

He keeps his hair long but not too long, it's usually well maintained and adjusted to suit his mood. It's a very dark brown in shade and seems to steadily be edging towards black. His eyes are a dark brown and they are shrouded in long, thick, black eyelashes. A large freckle marks the skin beneath his left eye.

Upon his left arm, near his elbow is a very prominent scar that appears almost marbled and knotted. He tends to cover it up in long sleeved apparel, he considers the blemish to be abominable and would never allow for it to be seen. He also has a very noticeable chip in his left canine tooth, he can't hide this blemish as easily but it makes for a lot of tight-lipped smiles.

He tends to gravitate towards clothing that shows off his status, flashy things that are tailored to him perfectly. He prefers to shine wherever he goes and likes to have his clothing trimmed in gold thread.

Psychology

"I'm not sure that even I know what's going on up here."

| {Hobbies} |

Poetry: A fan of epics, the boy has picked up quite a talent for poetry over the years. He can be a bit embarrassed about this talent, he usually tries not to speak of it.

Sword play: Though it was a requirement for him to learn sword play at a young age, he likes it a lot.

Archery: He doesn't do this often but whenever he's bored or frustrated, he'll usually practice his archery.

Painting: Though, he lacks actual artistic talent, he loves to paint. He's very proud of his awful paintings and is very comfortable with sharing them.

Hunting: He's a natural at hunting, though he somewhat despises the hounds.

| {Likes} |

Cats - He has a natural affinity for felines, he prefers that they're quiet and that they don't demand much attention. He's owned a few over the years and has one currently.
Parties & balls - A socialite at heart, he loves the attention that he garners at parties and balls.
New clothing - A prince has to look his best and he lives by that. His image comes before all things and every time that he squires new clothing, he's delighted.
Painting - He finds joy in what he's terrible at, the whole process is very calming for him.
Wine - Though he doesn't like to drink in excess, he loves to drink a few glasses of wine in his free time.
Dancing - He's an elegant dancer and he loves to show that off.
Peace and quiet - Despite his extroverted nature, he likes to have his time alone.
Books of lore and legend - Exciting tales of dragons and magic, of knights and princesses in need of saving.

| {Dislikes} |

Dogs - He finds dogs to be slobbering and ignorant, he doesn't like that they're loud and require attention. He only deals with the hounds when he decides to go hunting.
Small children - He doesn't click well with children and he doesn't have the patience.
Poor people - He doesn't hate poor people but he finds them detestable.
Salty foods - He doesn't appreciate things that taste salty.
Being around his family too much - He finds his dad to be barrating at times.
Tedious tasks - He doesn't like to be forced to study.
Talking about other people - He likes to indulge in himself, he doesn't like to indulge in anyone else.
Violin music - It drives him insane.

| {Fears} |

Astraphobia: The fear of thunder and lightening.

Arachnophobia: The fear of spiders.

Ophidiophobia: The fear of snakes.

| {Secrets} |

Marion is extremely worried for his parents, though he would never speak of it. He especially wants to know what's become of his mother.

| {Personality} |

♦ Charismatic ♦ Snobbish ♦ Dedicated ♦ Violent ♦

Ever the society snob, Marion relishes in being royalty.
He seems to be a natural royal, and he has little to no regard for those that don't share his good fortune. This is not a trait that he gained from his parents and is often considered kind of shameful. He seems to bask in the glow of his riches and he loves being in charge. He's very good at handling people, his energy can be infectious and people seem to naturally follow him.

This charisma is extremely transparent, if one is able to look below the surface then they'll find a boy that's very finicky and hard to please. His confidence borders on arrogance, he lives for praise. He admires himself first and foremost, he's extremely, openly, complementitive of his own achievements. This extreme arrogance and smugness can make it hard to relate to him. He doesn't maintain many friends because of this.

At heart, he's a summer storm of ever varying moods. These moods can be extremely volatile and if provoked, they can easily become violent. He can't ever seem to stay on track and becomes lost in his own head at times. He only does as he pleases and can be very disagreeable if he's denied the right to do what he wants. He also grows bored extremely easily and tends to lose interest in things.

On the positive side, he's a natural leader and he handles stressful situations very well. He's very proud of his kingdom and he would do anything for them. He's extremely brave but not to a point of being foolish or reckless. If he feels comfortable enough to open up, one will find that he's a very sensitive person and tries to understand them as best as he can. It's very hard to get to that side of him though, and most people haven't had the pleasure of seeing it.

Abilities & Talents

"I consider my natural grace to be a talent."

Poetry: He's a very talented poet.

Sword play: He's almost a master of the blade.

Extensive Education: Marion was educated by the best tutors possible throughout the entirety of his childhood and beyond, making for a very intelligent and cultured young man. He has an a very in depth knowledge of the politics and culture of Thelan, he's very well versed in strategizing and economics and the history of the land. He knows just about everything there is to know about Thelan and how to lead it.

| {Limitations} |

Sword play: His balance is often bad, which he's been trying to fix but it's been a pretty useless task because he keeps misstepping and wobbling anyway.

Archery: He's not particularly great at archery and seems to struggle with hitting distant targets.

Background

"I grew up well, it's not my parents fault that I'm terrible."

Marion Arthur Gifford was the first born and thus, most of his childhood was spent in preparation to become king someday. This was a grueling kind of childhood but the kid took it in stride. He seemed to like the idea of leading and he was willing to learn as best as he could. He maintained a very close bond with his mother, seeming to enjoy the activities that might have better fit a young princess. He even made an attempt at learning to sew at one point but was never very good at it.

He did pick up writing easily, the stories that his mother would tell him had left an impression on him. He liked the idea of controlling tales through the use of a pen. He took this up as a hobby and it followed him throughout life, often times he would be found with his hands covered in ink and pieces of parchment strewn about his room.

Though around the age or thirteen, he was urged to learn to use a blade. He wasn't great at first, and he became frustrated with it very easily. On one ocassion, this frustration drove him into reckless swinging, he accidentally propelled the sword into his own arm. As one can imagine, this kind of discouraged him.

At the insistence of his father, he picked it back up again. It wasn't long before he developed a bit of a talent for it. He couldn't say the same for archery, which he could never really seem to grasp. His father was a bit more lenient about archery, though it didn't stop Marion from trying to learn it anyway.

With a good education and a talent for swordsmanship, Marion was a perfect Gifford. His only problem was the insistent desire for attention that he seemed to have. It may have not been the first thing anyone noticed about young Marion but he craved limelight and he wanted to be special. He was constantly getting in trouble for lying and this started to drive a bit of a wedge between him and his father.

He also liked to cut corners and do things with only half the dedication that he should have had. He wanted to lead but he didn't show the good qualities of a leader, it was as if he only wanted to lead because it would make people admire him. This became frustrating because the king would someday need a successor that could lead with his same nobility and diligence but Marion was seemingly more concerned with his personal image than anything else.

It wasn't until the disappearance of his mom happened that his true colors began to show. There was something beneath that outer shell of arrogance, he seemed genuinely concerned and he was willingly doing everything that he could to help his father out. When his father locked himself away, Marion was left in a sort of faux leadership role and he's been very stressed out by this.

The influx of nobles that want to poke their nose into his family's business has been wearing on his last nerve. It's been reported that he's had more than a few choice words to say to them.

Extra

He is near sighted.

The Sands of Time

LOCATION — JAVA CAFE.
INTERACTING WITH — N/A.

---

Zeke was the guy that they called in when no one else would pick up a shift.
He was trusty, he could be counted on, at least that's what his boss kept telling him. Working as a barista wasn't hard, and it was infinitely better than working with his parents. He heard enough of his dad barating him about college and real jobs when he was at home. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to hear it at work. Work was the only place where he didn't have to hear anything about his choices, save for a few concerned elderly types.

The Java Cafe was his escape. As long as he was there, he was just the nice barista that was in need of a haircut. Nobody questioned him about when he'd go to college and make something of himself or why he wouldn't just get a real job. It was peaceful. He liked the patrons, he liked the coffee, and he liked the atmosphere. As long as he was here, this was his domain.

The cafe would be busy today, he could sense it. All of the approaching festivities meant that there would be a hum of excitement through the square. The teenagers would be planning the trouble that they could get into, the kids would be out buying sparklers and the adults would be trying to polish up the perfect shindig. He knew that his parents had already gone over the top with decorations.

He was really only excited for the fireworks, though the food was a bonus. He loved to watch the fireworks, they were one of the only things that made this holiday worth it. He liked to find somewhere with a good view and watch the colorful explosions overhead, it usually gave him time to think. Maybe he'd sneak a beer or two from under his parents noses, celebrate freedom in style like a true American.

That's what he usually did at events. He found some way to get plastered and isolate himself. He had seen the ill effects of him drinking with friends, and he tended to get a bit too friendly with the males. He didn't blame himself for getting a little too flirty when he was under the influence but it was better to avoid it altogether. There was no need to go blowing his own cover.

Of course, sneaking off and drinking in excess was getting harder and harder as he got older. His parents were expecting more of him. They might expect him to maintain his presence all night, which he wasn't very good at. Sure, he could be friendly and jovial in company but he knew that the sheer amount of people would start to drive him crazy. He didn't want to get snippy with a party-goer and have them tell his parents. That would be fantastic.

He could just imagine it now. His father had been irritated with him before but if he ruined a party? Yikes!

For now, he needed to worry about making coffee. Though, making coffee wasn't a very worrisome event. It did require a chunk of his focus. The order came in from a blond that couldn't have been much older than him, she was pretty and seemed to be having a hard day. He was also pretty sure that she was a Zima, her distinctive facial features and her dusty golden hair were more than enough proof of that.

He decided to give her a little extra on the white chocolate shavings, which would bypass the usual amount. Pretentious measurements weren't a requirement but he had a system, dammit. Give one person a little too much this or a little too much that and he might get their coffee back with a specialized complaint. He liked to avoid hearing anything extra from his customers. He took the risk with her, nobody complained about chocolate.

When he handed off the order to her, he gave her a pleasant smile. She seemed happy to receive her coffee and that was good, he wouldn't have to worry too much about her bringing it back in a fury. He'd be pretty much swamped in coffee making for the rest of the day, he didn't really think he had the time or patience for angry customers. His sanity was hanging by a thread with the amount of people that were coming through the door.

He kept his smile in place as he worked, polite and welcoming but certainly not enjoying himself.

Vivid Recollections: Into the World Unknown (Season 1 COMPLETE)

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Grand Ridge Academy - Hallway.

Interactions

@Surtr Inc & @Atrophy

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God, she loved Penny.
There was something so comforting about someone who was so aggressively honest. If she tried really hard, she could almost pretend that she hadn't just been invisible or that Lynette hadn't accidentally blown a mirror up somehow. If she tried really hard, she could pretend that she and Lynette were just meeting up with a friend. However, no amount of pretending would change the truth.

She had done something. She didn't even really know how she'd done it. It had obviously been centered around the eye marking on her wrist but she didn't know how. Her panic over being seen and possibly being expelled had triggered the reaction. She wondered if she could make it happen without panicking. She wasn't really sure if she wanted to try it again or not.

She was feeling a bit queasy over the entire event. If Penny hadn't shown up to take the fall then she wasn't sure when she and Lynette would have escaped that bathroom. She wasn't sure if she could have held them in invisibility for that long. It had started to wear on her, now she was kind of feeling as if she'd run a marathon.

She was much more comfortable out here. This was normal, and whatever had gone down in there was certainly not normal. When Penny slung her arm around her shoulder and began to steer her and Lynette out of the danger zone, she couldn't help but feel a little grateful. Even admist Penny's onslaught of sarcasm and cynacism, Aliana was just glad to be out of that mess of glass and water.

Being the good friend that she was, she noticed that Penny was looking bad, which was weird for Penny. She was usually very put together, but not today. It looked like she was getting kind of sick or something. Her teeth had a tint of red that was reminiscent of childhood and popsicles, or of nineteen year old girls puking up blood. "Penny, you sort of accidentally saved us, so thank you for that. You're looking pretty bad yourself though, are you okay?"

Her gaze flickered over to Lynette when she started to talk about what had happened. It wasn't hard to guess that whatever she had done was in correspondence to her own marking. She wanted to know the whole story though and that meant that seeing a demonstration would probably be pretty helpful. It would also help distract her from her own powers.

Ever the mom friend, she advised, "You should show us this somewhere outside, I don't know what happened to the mirror but that was pretty volatile. Have you ever done that before?"

Of course, this probably sounded like crazy talk to an outsider. Penny hadn't seem the glowing mark or heard the explosion. She hadn't been invisible with them. Penny was smart though, she'd probably be curious to see a demonstration of the mysterious explosion. Aliana knew that she wanted to see it. "I hadn't ever done. . ."

She vaguely gestured at her wrist. "Whatever that was before."

The Marchand School of Sorcery

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☆ Nolan Santora ☆

Marchand School - Common Room.

Interactions

@ScoundrelQueen & @LorelleQuips

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Tatia Fale was certainly interesting.
She had a sort of blasé air around everything that she did, her answers were passive and her mannerisms were disinterested. It was the air of someone who had either seen everything or just wasn't interested in seeing anything. It made him wonder if she really was as bored as he'd thought she was. He liked her presence, even if she was bored out of her mind with him and Mitch.

Toying with his amulet thoughtfully, he twisted it around his pointer finger as he eyed the scene with Larke and Kora. "They got stopped by a professor, though I would have loved to see it escalate into a full blown magical food fight. That sounds like it would have been pretty rad."

That wasn't a lie, he would have absolutely adored watching food fly about. Nobody would really be hurt in that kind of fight and it would still be kind of hilarious. He was glad that his family didn't have any close enemies, they were more generally disrespected as a whole than disrespected by certain parties. That was part of the fun of being a Santora, a good lot of people hated you but at least you didn't know them all by name.

It was pleasantly surprising sometimes, especially at parties. He had gotten lucky with his current company, neither of them really seemed to know much about his family. He didn't know much about theirs either. They were all perfect strangers. It was better than meeting someone who immediately recognized him by the Santora name and had a lot to say on the matter.

"Here's hoping that we all get to witness a full blown magical food fight someday because I will feel very cheated of that experience if I don't." he said, and then he spared Tatia a glance. "If you don't mind my asking, what are you studying here, Tatia? What's your power? I'm a necromancer and Mitch does runic magic, which is honestly leagues cooler than necromancy."

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♤ Isaiah Parrish ♤

Marchand School - Common Room.

Interactions

@EchoicChamber

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"Almost thought the skulls would be a necromancer's touch." he said, his tone only conveyed the most mild bit of surprise. "I have a bad tendency to associate necromancy with skulls."

He recognized him and that was good because he sure as hell recognized a Pelacour. It was kind of hard not to. The Pelacour family were one of the youngest council families, they got far more speculation than they deserved. People tended to eye new things, especially new things that they could exploit. The council could be pretty unforgiving with how they treated their members, he was glad that his family hadn't ever gotten wrapped up in that nonsense.

He was glad that he'd started off by meeting someone who seemed so interesting. He had a tendency to get bored very easily and Percival struck him as someone who wasn't often boring. He had never really done well with the whole accepting people for who they are even if they were boring thing. He might have been a bit harsh but he doubted it mattered. He didn't have many friends to lose over it.

"Well, it's good to meet you, Percival Rowan Pelacour the Third, sans 'the Third' bit. I'm Isaiah Ichorus Parrish if we're getting on a middle name basis, no third or second, unfortunately." he said, his mouth tipping into a very slight smile. "My family likes religious names and symbolism."

He nodded carefully, glancing over to the table of food before seeming to decide that he didn't feel like making the walk over there. He should have grabbed fruit or something, he couldn't go wrong with fruit. He'd never had any fruit based allergies and he didn't expect them to start today. "If I had more initiative then I'd probably get something from over there but alas, I'm too lazy-"

Percival might not have been startled by the fight that broke out but it stopped Isaiah mid-sentence. When Percival identified the attacker, he frowned. "Is that their standard greeting to everyone or is the Sterling boy just unlucky?"

[HIGH CASUAL] Her Majesty's Spirit

@Lionhearted I'll get cracking on a character sheet! I'm torn between a prince or a lord, we'll see where I land.

Welcome To Rawyn - A Supernatural Mystery

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Allan McCullough

South Rawyn - Community Center

Interactions

@2plus2isnot5

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This wasn't a great idea.
He stood outside of the community center with his field journal tucked under one arm. He was weighing his options beyond this point. He could only think of two types of people who might have wanted a journalist to know what happened to a missing girl. One of those people would be a press-obsessed serial killer, the other would be a witness of some sort. He didn't really know what he'd do if it was a press obsessed serial killer.

Though, a serial killer assuredly wouldn't have offered him refreshments. A witness might, but it seemed odd. This whole thing was pretty odd and he was getting a creeping feeling between his shoulders. He didn't want this to be some kind of set up and that was very likely, if this person was carrying a weapon of some sort then he was screwed.

The best case scenario was that this was a witness and they could give him the full story. It would be ground-breaking if he could get the story before anyone else, he obviously wouldn't monopolize on it until they told the police but this could truly be a goldmine. He had been as curious as any other person but it had started to feel like he needed to know the truth.

There wasn't always one solid answer in these cases, sometimes there were a bunch of looping trails. If this was a person who had seen it go down then it would be perfect. If this was a deranged serial killer who really wanted his story in the paper without an arrest, well, Allan was a lot less excited about that. That was the only thing that was causing any hesistance, he really didn't want to wander into a trap.

He should have told someone that he was coming here but he hadn't thought about it. It was a very stupid mistake to make, if he died here then nobody would know where to find his corpse. He tried to shake off his increasingly dark thoughts as he headed inside of the building, it was musty and old. The dust was immediately attacking his sinuses and he had to hold back a sneeze. Even his sniffle sounded loud in here, he hoped that he wasn't disturbing the place.

Old places like this always seemed alive to him. It was like he didn't belong inside of it. It was trapped in it's history, it was still and it was dark and it was silent. He was unnervingly loud and he was moving and he was bright. He didn't belong here and he couldn't help but feeling like the building was trying to tell him that. A slight chill went down his spine.

His eyes were adjusting to the darkness when he saw the girl. Her hair was chopped short and her face was youthful, she had kind, blue eyes and she looked like she hadn't eaten in about a year. She was obviously very young, or at least, very young compared to him and he could feel confusion settling in. This kid couldn't have been the one who wanted to talk to him. Maybe she was lost.

"Miss? Did you leave the letter for me?" he asked, his gaze flickering to where he could see the food laid out. "If you're lost, I could help you find your way back to your house. I'm supposed to be meeting someone here but if it's not you then well-"

An awkward laugh escaped him. "Well, I just look very silly."