Prosaic

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

This 100th IC post was brought to you by me and @Atrophy.

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

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Cafe Sucre - Window Table.

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Wheels hopped the curb as Rita came upon Sucre. She braked quickly, the bike whipping ever so slightly out from behind her, although she did not lose her balance and easily regain control. She dismounted and chained the bike to a pole, doubtful that there was someone looking for a bike to steal but not too certain that there wasn’t someone looking to pull a prank on her. Her hair had been whipped every which way by the wind, but the ride had been nice and a very much needed moment of relief. She went to smooth her clothes, only to catch a glimpse of Martin in the window; her mouth made a little O as she gave a wave that was close to her chest and hurried inside.

The person behind the counter looked up from their phone at the chime of the bell, and Rita glanced between her and Martin. She gave her friend a complicated hand gesture, which might’ve translated to, “I’m going to go order something, because it’d be weird not to, although it’s even weirder not to say hi to you first, but things already seem weird between us, and I might not get back up once we start talking, and then they’ll think I’m some weirdo mooch who can’t afford a drink, or you’d feel obligated to buy me a drink, and then I’d”, you know what, maybe it didn’t translate at all. She reached into her pocket and pulled out what might very well be her last five dollar bill. Enough for a cup of tea, a tip, and dinner from a vending machine later that night before spending Sunday and the rest of her week flat broke and racking up credit card debt until she found a part time job.

“Hey,” she said as she sat down, drawing the word out as if to exercise caution.

Rita looked down. Where to start? Apologize for being a total bitch to him at the camp, or apologize for ignoring him since she had moved out, dodging texts and conversations as if she were the last nerd in gym class on the team opposing an army of jocks with red rubber balls? She stared at the lines on her finger, which appeared to be little more than the doodling of a bored girl with a sharpie. She couldn’t possibly jump right in, say, hey, I just sat down, and this is crazy, but also I might be, so help me maybe? She drummed her fingers on the table. Her lips parted.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, glancing at him before looking back down. Better than silence, but not by much. "Um..."

"No need to thank me, I was dying for a reason to see you."

That came on kind of strong, made it sound like he was some guy in a movie that had been waiting to see his girlfriend. It was true though, he had been dying for a reason to see her. The fact that they'd gone so long without contact had worn on him a little. She was the steadiest person that he'd ever had in his life and he had been so excited about going to college with her. He had pictured being able to go to lunch with her and to talk about their classes. Instead, he'd been spending his time trying to avoid shadows and imaginary tattoos on his neck.

He took in her appearance, trying to steady his anxiety by remembering that she was just Rita. Even if she had gotten angry with him and avoided him for almost an entire month, she was still Rita. He couldn't dispute that he'd heard about some of her more bold comments lately but that didn't change the fact that she was Rita. He wasn't about to lose his best friend over one snippy comment at a camp with an axe murderer.

"Let's cut to the chase, chickadee." he offered her a lofty smile, "I'm sorry for uh. . ."

What had he done exactly?
That had been the trouble with this. He still didn't exactly know what he was apologizing for. He wanted a way to take all of the blame on himself but that was hard when he wasn't exactly apologetic about trying to reassure her. Whatever, he hadn't come here to try to back out of his own apology. He had come here to make things right and then discuss all the other terrible things.

"I'm sorry for reassuring you. I didn't think about how idiotic it sounded until you pointed it out to me." he couldn't help but notice how awkward his own voice was sounding, he was starting to chew his thumb nail. "This is going to sound cheesy as hell so forgive me for ruining my whole gloom and doom image but I was trying to. . . I don't know. I was trying to convince you that I wasn't going to let anything happen to you but I realized in all this time that I've had to reflect over shit, you don't need my protection or my reassurances. We're not one single unit. I forget that sometimes, I haven't had many friends."

She kept her eyes on her steaming cup of tea, watching the water change from a muddy clear to a reddish brown. A faint blush had risen to her cheeks, and she pulled in her lips to hide her smile. She bit down on them, hard, but not hard enough to draw blood, when he brought up what she had said. She still couldn't look straight at him; all she could muster was an occasional cursory glance at his hands or his chest. Eye contact was out of the question, otherwise Rita feared he'd be able to read her like a large print book. She fiddled with the tea bag, up and down, up and down.

"I know. I meant what I said when I called you a loser," she said bluntly, and then gave a little chuckle. "But that's not a bad thing. I like that about you. Another thing we have in common." She looked up at him and raised her tea cup. "To having no friends. Well, almost no friends."

Her eyes narrowed. Martin was trying to hide it, but there was definitely something dark on his neck. A bruise, maybe, or a tattoo, but he had never struck her as the neck tattoo kind of guy. She didn't really know what the neck tattoo kind of guy was like, but she knew it wasn't like someone like Martin. She looked directly at him, gestured at his neck, and asked, "What's up with that thing? Did you lose a bet?"

The sigil on the fingers caressing her cup of tea dimly glowed.

"Oh, that."

For some reason he couldn't place why he'd been so apprehensive about talking about this. He found that he wanted to tell her about it. Had he been silly to think that it was best to hold this off until they talked everything out? Why had he changed his mind so quickly? It was as if some kind of fog had come over him. The compulsion to respond was a little overpowering. Weird. "Rita, believe me when I say, I wish I knew." he responded, the words spilling out without any grace. "I woke up the day after that whole catastrophe, I was a little loopy on pain meds and I looked in the mirror and I fucking screamed."

He found himself folding his collar down and tilting his head to the side to show her the curling mark. It started at the base of his collarbone and ended at the bottom of his jaw. It was wispy, curling, and a dark, inky black. It stood out starkly on his pale skin. "Just like a little girl, I shrieked. I scrubbed it for like a whole hour. My skin was bleeding and it was still there and at that point, I just kind of decided, I'm insane."

He laughed, it was a sharp sound that didn't seem like he found it all that funny. "No one and I mean no one could see it. But then! Today!"

He slammed his hands onto the table as if for dramatic effect, "Hagan fucking Rosefey, who hates my Goddamn guts goes "Nice tattoo, faggot"." by the time the word vomit stopped, he was looking kind of winded and very confused. "I wasn't supposed to talk about that yet. Can we rewind?"

"Yeah, of course," said Rita, pinching her sleeve and pulling it over her left hand. So, the mark of the beast had appeared for Martin the same time it had for her. She should've showed her arm to him right then and there, but for some reason she hesitated. He didn't want to talk about it yet, so she used that as her justification. It wasn't lying if he didn't ask. She slid her left hand down to her knee, and took a sip of her tea. "Sorry for bringing it up."

"And, uh, I'm sorry for avoiding you. Really, I am. I just didn't know how to broach the subject and I figured you were still mad at me, so I kind of...just sucked for a while, I guess." She gave a pained smile. "I wish we could rewind things to before that night. We could've just hung on your couch and made fun of crummy romantic comedies but, no, I wanted to be adventurous. Now I can hardly sleep at night, and when I do..."

She shuddered and changed the subject, her eyes lingering on her drink.

"Is your shoulder feeling better?"

"It was partially my fault that we went, I just had to be the starving artist and seek inspiration in the wilderness." his mouth pressed into a thin line, the mention of her nightmares hadn't gone unnoticed. "All I dream about are shadows."

This was said sort of cryptically, albeit Martin had a habit of being cryptic. He didn't really know how to explain the shadow dreams or the flashing lights. He hadn't even explained everything to Hagan, not that he was even sure that Hagan wanted to hear about it, but it was just too weird. It wasn't like telling someone that he could play guitar or he could juggle. "Hey, I think I'm affecting shadows." was this whole other ballpark of crazy and he wasn't even sure that he believed it.

He knew that something abnormal was happening but he wasn't a fucking superhero. Even if he was, this was an exceptionally useless power. "Oh, it's fine. I think. The weird thing about throwing yourself in front of a guy with an axe is that you don't really consider how you're going to land."

He knew that it shouldn't funny but it actually kind of was. He'd misjudged his landing in an almost comically bad fashion. If he had been able to review himself in that moment and if it hadn't been so harrowing then he would have laughed. "I'm lucky that I wasn't hacked into two equal sections but I can't help but wondering, was it really worth it? My doctor told me I was brave but honestly I'm just a just a dumbass. That was stupid shit that I pulled."

He leaned forward on his elbows, regaining a bit of his usual confidence around her. "How have you been occupying yourself without me? I know it must have been pretty traumatic. Have you been doing okay?"

"No."

It was a flat, honest response that surprised Rita as she said it. Normally, she would have brushed the question off with an "I'm fine, I'm fine" and that would be the end of that, but a no? A no demanded more. And before she could even think to stop herself, she was telling him more.

"I'm not okay. I hate this place. Everywhere I go I wander into an argument. Everyone I talk to seems like they just want to beat me with their baggage and then place the blame on me. I'm practically broke because of your mom overcharging me for rent, and I can barely study. And you know that girl who freaked out on me? I tried talking to her again to bury the hatchet, but I ended up just saying horrible shit to her and made her look like a complete lunatic. And the worst part is, I kind of liked it. I liked it a lot."

She looked up and locked eyes with him.

"Does that make me a horrible person?"

"Yes and no," he answered honestly, "It's horrible because I feel that you should have taken the high road because I have a superiority complex and that's what I would have done but it's not because I completely understand why you'd want to get back at her. There's more than a few people that I'd like torment."

Why did he keep doing that?
He was saying things that he didn't even want to say. What was possessing him to be so upfront about all of this? His life goal was to be unflinchingly honest but not to the point that it hurt people. He didn't really know what had gotten into him but he didn't like it. Sometimes you just didn't say certain things. Telling your friend that they had done something terrible was one of those things.

Rita deserved honesty but couldn't he have worded it a bit better? Preferably leaving out the superiority complex bit?

"I'm sorry, that was kind of blunt. I'm not really sure what's going on today, I'm kind of talking before I think. I'll try to contact Alice though, I might be able to get her to refund some of your money." he shook his head, "If it makes you feel any better, things have been shit for me too lately. Nothing quite as bad as that though. Who knew that your secret talent was to get people to spill their guts?"

He actually looked apologetic for a moment, "I hate that you've been here for such a short period of time and you're already being driven out by the locals."

He didn't dwell too much on how things had been bad for him, there was no need to address it yet. He planned to cover this all in one sweep. "I'm already kind of shoving my foot in my mouth so I might as well address what I was going to address. First I have to ask though, are we cool? No more avoiding and dodging my texts?"

His voice was warm when he said, "I mean, I've missed our movie dates and it's just not the same without you."

"Yeah," she said, hesitantly, and then reached out and put her hand on his as reassurance. Martin hadn't done anything wrong in the first place, yet he was the one trying to make amends. A shot of guilt resonated through her heart, and with a squeeze she let go of his hand. If he looked, he would've noticed the lines on her fingers. "We're cool."

"Although, it doesn't make me feel any better that things aren't going well for you. And I don't want you to try and get the money back. Seriously, I was the one who was irresponsible with my savings; I wouldn't be able to accept it." She shot him a serious look. "So don't. I can just get a part-time job somewhere like a normal broke college kid." She dropped the look and turned her gaze out the window, as if she was already searching for opportunities where she could become a wage slave. "You said there was something else you had to address?"

For a moment, he'd thought he'd seen something on her hand, like ink stains. Could that be it?

He gathered together his will, scraping at his nail polish as he tried to figure out how to breach this subject. It had been easier with someone that he didn't care about seeing him as crazy. Though, that conversation with Hagan had gone surprisingly well and if Rita could see the mark then that meant something. "I found that mark on me when I woke up after everything happened but not only that, I've been having these reoccuring nightmares about shadows. They're not even like. . . I don't know, something feasible, they're not shadow people with axes or anything. They're formless sometimes. They're animals or monsters other times but they're always shadows."

He laughed a little awkwardly, "I have this mark but not only do I have this mark, Hagan has a mark."

Now was as good a time to test this as any and it wasn't like he was a weapon of mass destruction. He'd been doing it unintentionally for way too long now, maybe with some focus, he could make it happen intentionally. Just like a light switch, he focused on making it get dark. His neck began to faintly glow and the cafe was plunged into a cloak of darkness. It was like the lights had flickered if flickering lights could take out the illumination of the window with them.

They came back all too quickly, and he was glad that the place wasn't too packed. "That keeps happening. While talking to Hagan, I came to the genius conclusion that it probably wasn't just us. That's where you come in. Rita, do you have a marking?"

The plunge into darkness caught her off-guard. Stranger still, the barista behind the counter didn't even seem to notice.

"Yes, I do," she blurted out, then clumsily tried to retract the statement. "I mean, no, I...I don't know."

Why was she even trying to keep this secret from Martin? She pulled down her sleeve and held up her left arm so that Martin could see the four lines that wrapped around her fingers, coursed down her palm, and came to a frayed end at her elbow. She left her sleeve pushed up.

"It showed up after the...after the attack. Nothing I do will make it go away. But, but I can't do anything like that," she said, staring at Martin with a hint of apprehension in her eyes. She leaned forward, supporting her chin with her left hand. From where he was sitting, Martin would be able to see the dull glow of her sigil as she asked, "How are you able to do that?"

"I don't know, I focused? It has to do with the mark, I think."

The glow hadn't slipped past him, it was just like his own marking. Every time things went black, he glowed just the same. She may not have been able to make the lights go out but she was doing something. Hagan hadn't activated whatever his marking was when Martin had spoken to him, but this was further confirming his theory that these did things somehow. His was something to do with shadows, that was what he knew for sure.

He held out his hand to her, intending to take her hand so he could get a closer look at the marking. He hadn't been able to observe Hagan's, it wasn't easy asking a guy if be could have a closer look at his chest. "You're doing something with your mark, Rita. I don't think it's as simple as mine. Has anything out of the normal been happening? I know you said people have been spilling their guts to you lately, is that out of the normal for you? I mean, I've only really had my experience with you and I have an honesty policy."

She let Martin take her hand.

"I don't know. They're not nice when they're telling me those things, so that's pretty much par for the course." Her brow furrowed behind her bangs as she chewed on her cheek. People hadn't been this brutally honest to her in the past; usually it took a few weeks before they hit her with the disappointing truth. She kept her eyes on their hands as she asked, "Have you always been honest with me?"

He turned her hand over between his, his thumb tracing over the lines that marked her skin. "I try to be,"

He wasn't prone to lying or choosing to omit information, though he definitely wasn't perfect. He didn't think to mention everything and there were things that slipped his mind. He trusted Rita with his life and that meant that all of his information was as good as hers. It would always be strange to him that he'd found someone that he clicked with, someone that he could see in his future. Rita was the kind of friend that he didn't want to lose.

It was good to be in this with her. He was glad that whatever divine being was handing out markings and magical powers had chosen them both. He laced their fingers together and smiled at her. "There's nothing that you could ask me that I'd feel inclined to lie about, keep that in mind."

Rita could've accepted that. She should've accepted that. Yet, it wasn't the answer she wanted. It was vague and noncommittal, like it was marked with an asterisk. She knew she shouldn't doubt her only friend, but she couldn't help it. Why didn't he just say yes? Even if it was a lie, it was a solid answer. There was no wiggle room. Now there was, and already distrust was seeping in to fill the cracks. Her nails bit into his hand, pinning it to the table. Obviously, she wasn't strong enough to actually keep his hand down, and she didn't press hard enough to break skin, but it wouldn't feel good. She glared at him, and the lines on her arm flared.

"Did I fucking ask if you tried? I'm serious. Have you always been honest to me?"

Her outburst had startled him, though not enough that it would have caused him to blacken the room out again. He could feel the pressure of her hand on his and her nails digging into his skin. It was that strange compulsion again, the one to answer her without holding back. "No, you didn't ask if I tried. I haven't always been honest with you, if your definition of honesty includes telling you everything."

Before he knew it, the words were trickling out of him. "Rita, I can juggle, I never really talked about it because it was lame. I live for attention, I dress like a Hot Topic reject because my mom never gave me any when I was a kid. I want to go vegan to inflate my own self righteous ego but I figure I don't have the dedication to commit to it. I once had a turtle but it died, I took two weeks out of school to cry about it. I'm allergic to cats. My doctor didn't actually call me "brave", I just really wanted to pretend like someone had. In fact, I believe she told me that I shouldn't have risked my life like that. I can't spell the word rigorous off the top of my head. I was almost diagnosed with dyscalculia as a child but nobody followed up on it."

His brain was spinning as years worth of garbage was tumbling out of his mouth, "When I was six, I dropped my mom's wedding ring down the drain because I wanted her to get mad at me, she didn't. I once cut a girl's pigtail off because she called me ugly, it was in second grade, I got in trouble. My mom still wasn't mad at me. I hate my dad, he tries to win me over with expensive gifts and he's currently cheating on his new wife. I have a step brother but I like to pretend he doesn't exist because he's got a life that I would kill for. I'm kind of an insomniac though I figured that was obvious because I'm always exhausted. My favorite movie is Interview With The Vampire, I own all of Anne Rice's novels and I'm very pretentious about it. I liked Twilight. I wish dogs liked me more but they tend to scare me. In middle school, I kissed one of my bullies and got my ass handed to me. Most importantly, I'm ga-"

That was it!

"All of the truth and none of the filter, you can literally wring the truth out of people. Holy shit, that's cool and terrifying."

"But I didn't even do anything," she said, pulling her hand back. She was positively exhausted by Martin's outburst, and not entirely convinced that what the last thing he had said was true. How could anyone force someone to compulsively tell the truth? Then again, how could anyone plunge the world into darkness? Of course, he could just be feeding her false truths and pretending as if she was pulling it out of him. She couldn't figure out why Martin would do that, but it made more sense than her being a human truth serum.

"Okay, so if what you say is true, which, to be honest, I don't really believe it, then we could test it. I can go ask the barista a personal question that she'd never tell a stranger." She flashed her eyes at Martin and her mark glowed, but he would no longer feel the obligation to tell the truth. "Will you back me up?"

"I wouldn't have told you any of that if it wasn't spilling out of me like a broken faucet." he responded, he was feeling a bit uneasy with the things that he'd said. He'd almost went on a spiel of all the men that he'd thought about kissing in the last few years, that would have been embarrassing. He only kept those things in because they didn't do anything to move him forward, they were just things but now they were things that Rita knew.

He had almost told her that he was gay. Why hadn't he done that yet?

Though the questions seemed to have lost their affect, he was still very curious of what Rita could get out of people. Call him morbid but if she could make him admit that he only put on this goth gimmick for attention then he was sure that she could get anything out of anyone. "Of course I will, let's see what happens."

"Okay then."

She slid out of her chair and approached the counter, giving a look over her shoulder to make sure that Martin was right behind her. She mulled the question over in her head. She could ask something very embarrassing or extremely personal, something about her sex life or a deep, dark secret, but she shook the thought from her mind. She needed something that was concrete; something she could fact check. A spark of inspiration came over her. Rita reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone.

"Excuse me," she said, getting the barista's attention. "What your email address and the password to your account?"

The woman spilled forth the information with a look of bewilderment on her face while Rita typed it into her phone, showing Martin that she now had access to the other lady's account as she swiped down through the columns of spam, bill notifications, and job postings. A devilish smirk appeared on Rita's face, and before the woman could call her out for, somehow, stealing her information, another question was already on her lips. "What's the worst thing you have ever done?

Her life just got so much more interesting.

Martin hadn't meant to create a monster, and now that Rita believed him, he wasn't going to just let her exercise this power in all the wrong ways. He very lightly wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her away from the counter with minimal force. "Come on, Mistress of Evil, I'm glad that you believe me now."

He didn't blame her for wanting to test her powers out but he also didn't want to bear witness to the slow mental decline of a woman spitting all of her information at a college student. This was amazing though, he didn't know what the hell had happened at that camping trip but it had left them with something extraordinary. He had the ability to affect shadows and Rita could make people tell her anything that she asked. He didn't know what Hagan could do but it had to be something.

It was hard not to feel a sort of thrill, this wasn't normal but he was excited. "Rita, this is something else. I mean, your power is a thousand times cooler than mine but we have powers."

He pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat, intending to send a message to Hagan but instead catching sight of the time. He was more than positive that the fire alarm had ended by now and he was pretty sure he had a class to get to. He hadn't thought he'd get so caught up but he was glad that he was glad he was on good terms with Rita again. He had mostly cared about making amends.

"So, this is gonna suck but I think we should head back." he ran a hand through his hair, a smile surfacing. "I've got a class to catch and I'm figuring that the fire alarm can only ring for so long before they fix the issue. However, maybe we can catch a movie tonight, if you're not too busy becoming a super villian."

"I will push decorating my evil lair to another night," she said, giving Martin a hug. All of this still felt crazy, but she would stress about it later. She walked over to her bike and unchained it. "See you tonight."

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

Updated relations.

@Surtr Inc

I added Hagan into Martin's table a few days ago.

The Sands of Time

@Prosaic I love Zeke, he is a good boi. 😭💖

@Dirty Pretty Lies

Thank you so much. I love Aliana and she only deserves the best in life. ♡

The Sands of Time

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

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As quickly as Elliot had appeared, he had disappeared.
It was a shame really, he liked Elliot. They had become almost brotherly over the years that he'd been dating Aliana. They could usually hold friendly banter, which would have been monumentally more entertaining than mixing and decorating coffee all day. Not that he was complaining, he was good at mixing and decorating coffee. It was just tedious.

The thing about working at the Java Cafe was that you unintentionally got to see a lot of drama. It was funny how people loved to drag their dirty laundry into little cafes for reviewal. Everyone liked coffee and a lot of people had unnecessary drama going on in their lives. It was a little more uncomfortable when he knew the people.

For Elliot's sake, he hoped Aliana took pity upon his soul. The Zima girl had looked infatuated by him. Her stare had come off as starstruck and Elliot had practically been flushing to the roots of his hair. The pictures would look bad, he wouldn't blame Aliana if she found them offensive. He just hoped Elliot remembered to mention him if things got too heated, he had heard enough to give an accurate run down of the situation.

It was a little worrisome, actually. He didn't like them to argue too much. He entertained himself in listening to orders and painstakingly putting together cups of coffee. He was good at this, it was easy to absorb himself in things that he was talented at. He just had to keep his focus and try not to get distracted by the influx of people going in and out.

Being the barista was good, not too many people expected conversation with him. The few that did were usually regulars and they knew him by name. Every so often, his siblings would come through and he knew their orders by heart. He liked it best when his brother swept through, they didn't see each other nearly enough anymore. While he understood his brother's estrangement, it didn't make him miss him any less.

As he worked, he found himself answering curious inquiries about the festivities that were happening tomorrow. He wasn't excited about being his parents personal advertiser but he tried to sell it. The more people that crowded around his parents, the easier it would be to sneak off with some alcohol. He could almost picture it now. He was slowly but surely ruling out that he'd have to make an appearance.

He kept his brain partially focused on the activity of coffee making and tried not to stress it. It was one holiday, even if he had to stand around and socialize all night then he'd try to make the best of it. Maybe it would be good for him or something.

The Marchand School of Sorcery

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☆ Nolan Santora ☆

Marchand School - Common Room.

Interactions

@ScoundrelQueen & @LorelleQuips

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"In theory, yeah. I should be able to go all Evil Dead in here but I'm like a special case. I'm better at the whole ghosty thing. Aeromancy is cool though, you both have pretty rad powers." he responded with ease, he found that these two girls were comfortable companions.

He didn't really have to hide anything with them, and he did think rune casting and aeromancy were pretty damn cool. Perhaps when one had to deal with their own powers for too long, everything else started to look even cooler in comparison. Of course, he didn't have long to think about the benefits of aeromancy and rune magic before a professor started to address the whole room.

He straightened up in his seat and watched the man. He was glad to know that they'd be starting soon because he was quickly becoming restless and he'd eaten just about everything on his plate. The man was dressed smart, he had a flair about his speaking and he struck Nolan as being fairly confident. Lovette seemed to be a very fitting name for him.

He was not excited about the history bit, magical history had never interested him and he doubted that it ever would. Nonetheless, he kept himself prepared for the start of orientation.

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♤ Isaiah Parrish ♤

Marchand School - Common Room.

Interactions

@EchoicChamber

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He liked Percival, it was strange how quickly he'd decided that.
Percival had a very honest and bright nature about him, he was one of those people that naturally exuded charisma. Though Isaiah was not one of those people, he'd always found that he got along with them best. He could talk to them with ease because they sort of forced him out of his shell. Listening to Percival was nice, he was really starting to enjoy him.

The grin that he cracked at Percival's impression of a ghost was very toothy. He hadn't met many necromancers but he'd always had the impression of them being kind of doom and gloom. It was hard not to, something about raising the dead was just inherently doom and gloom. He was glad that he was an aquamancer, it didn't really conjure any inherent imagery.

When Percival offered him food off his plate, Isaiah wasn't chaste about it. "Remember, this was your decision."

He plucked an apple from the plate and took a bite from it. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to eat but that was enough for the time being. He listened as Percival explained why the Sterling boy was getting the targeted by young ladies with red hair. "That's awful, I'm lucky that the Parrish's only enemy is places without water."

He had been about to respond to the question about secondaries and inquire about Percival's reaction to the teacher when he noticed the new approaching professor. He quickly rushed through his secondaries, "Levitation and toxin production, I wanted choose something that my parents would find the most abhorrent."

They were dressed very feminine but their voice spoke of masculinity. They were very androgynous by appearance, he was sure that they were probably male. He didn't want to be assumptive though and he listened as they addressed the room. They had a warmth about them and they seemed excited to be surrounded in rotten teenagers.

He knew that if he was a professor then he probably wouldn't share the sentiment. He respected that they seemed so ready to face the day though.

Breaking the Sun

Sage Worcester

PERSONNEL FILE

{ SAGE WORCESTER }

{ IDENTIFICATION NUMBER; 628709 }

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General Information

name:// Sage Andreas Worcester.
age:// Nineteen.
birth date:// December 13th.
gender:// Male.
occupation:// College Student.

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Biology

height:// 5"11.
weight:// 145 lbs.
hair color:// Brunette.
eye color:// Brown.
tattoos, scars, piercings:// Straight scar located on the inside of his right wrist.

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Psychology

ability:// Apostle.

personality:// Sage has an extremely unstable sense of self and his personality can come off as insincere. He has a bit of an attitude problem and tends to act out as a means of garnering attention or infamy. He wants to be seen as unflinching and unbreakable. This nature can often lead to him being very rude and making nasty commentary, he seemingly wants to start drama. When provoked, his temper can quickly spiral out of control and swing into violence.

He is extremely confident and cocky, though this front is a little transparent and can make other parties unsure if he actually likes himself as much as he acts like he does. He tends to act as if he's invincible and maintains something of a God complex. He can be extremely reckless at times and make split second decisions, he often gets into bad situations because of this. He's very restless and becomes bored easily.

Despite his mostly negative qualities, he maintains a kind of gallow's humor about his situation. The jokes tend to be grim but it seems to help him keep a steady head about everything that's going on. He's also a bit flirtatious but his flirtations are of a passive nature, he doesn't take them very seriously. He can be a good conversationalist if one can get past his many, varying moods and has a quick wit about him. He favors sarcasm and observational humor.

family history://

• Miranda Olivia Worcester//mother//alive.
• Miles Harris Worcester//father//alive.
• Willow Amelia Worcester//sister//alive.
• Charles Andreas Worcester//grandfather//dec*apostle.
• Iris Natalia Worcester//grandmother//dec.

---

Miscellaneous Information

He attempted suicide at sixteen, he's been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder.

Did someone say they wanted an edgy teenager?

EDIT: I wrote his personality in as I imagined it might look on a file, it was for fun mostly. If you'd like it to look more traditional then let me know and I'll edit it.
EDIT2: I made it traditional anyway because I kept looking it over and thinking that it was tremendously ugly.

Breaking the Sun

I'll hopefully have a CS done sometime tonight!

Breaking the Sun; A Modern Super-Power & Ability Roleplay!

I'm interested.

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

---

Grand Ridge Academy - Outside.

Interactions.

@Atrophy

---

This was bigger than him and Hagan.
That was the obvious thing. There was no way in hell that he and Hagan had just been hand selected for this. He might have believed that this could be a two person affliction if it was Hagan and anyone else. Martin wasn't special, so this was likely something that had affected multiple people. It wasn't even self deprecation that made him think this. It was just logical.

Hagan was strong and he was built to survive, if some mystical force were picking individuals to represent it then he'd be an obvious choice. Martin was small and he did reckless, idiotic things, he wasn't built to survive. If some mystical force were picking individuals to represent it, he would not be a considered selection. No, this had to be something bigger than the both of them.

What was it?
Markings and shared dreams were weird. There weren't many ways to explain those things. He had been terrified when he'd seen that monster with the axe but he'd tried to rationalize it. There was no rationalizations left in him. He needed to start thinking illogically. What was about as illogical as he could get? He certainly didn't think that he and Hagan had shared some kind of premonition.

What about the markings?
A mighty shield and a wispy spiral. They were vastly different, there had to be a reason for that. There were a lot of possibilities here. If the marks had been the same then he might have assumed that maybe it was all one common direction. They weren't though, the difference meant that it was a diverging path. Where was it diverging and why? What could these marks mean?

These questions were running in circles, chasing their own tails. It was frustrating because it was so odd. This wasn't just something that he could work out by thinking it through. This was something that he'd never dealt with before. He liked mysteries and this was a pretty grand one but he wasn't sure that he'd be able to work it out on his own.

He was going to find Rita first.
He had neglected to visit her enough as it was and she wasn't allowed to avoid him forever. He let his gaze trail over the students who speckled the yard, they were chattering mostly or standing around waiting for instruction. He pulled his collar snugly to hide his neck. He could see a small group dispersing near the stairway but didn't pay it any mind.

He had to find- his phone let out an almost obnoxious chirping noise. He pulled it free and almost started thanking the screen when he saw her name. He was just glad that he wasn't going to have to ask around like an idiot. He typed up a response quickly with a glide of his thumb.

To: Rita.

You read my mind.
I'll be there ASAP. I've missed you, chickadee.

Martin

And he had, he'd missed her a lot. She was the only person that he'd ever really clicked with and he would be lying if he said that her absence hadn't scared him a little. He didn't want to lose his best friend, she was far too important to him. He booked a taxi on his phone, because all be dammed if he walked to Sucre. He may not have a car but he had pride, dammit.

After catching his ride, he sat in the back of the cab and opened the note section on his phone. He quickly absorbed himself in tapping in his thoughts, if he cataloged this stuff enough then he might actually find an answer somehow. It also helped to keep him from over thinking this, it was a lot to take in. He fully intended to ask Rita about it as soon as they talked for a bit. His first priority was to make sure that they were alright, his second priority was to enter the crazy zone.

Phone Note

_{Markings & Meanings:
Martin Cromwell - Wispy spiral (Side of neck, nearly jaw) - Shadows, possibly, but what does that mean?
Hagan Rosefey - Shield (Centered on the chest) - ???
Rita Vorona - ???}

^{Will expand on list in light of new information.
Check back with Hagan with the details, try not to piss anyone else off. Whatever is going on, it's not normal. Don't get comfortable. The marks have to mean something, it's just a matter of figuring out what.
I need to find out if Hagan is experiencing anything like my shadows. That might be a clue. Was too embarrassed to mention anything else. Going to Google some crap later about all of this.}

When he finally got there, he self cautiously adjusted his hair in the reflection of his phone. He looked the same as he had when he'd left this morning. Drained, exhausted, and with a tattoo on his neck. He was almost dreading the thought of Rita pointing it out to him. That was going to be a conversation that he'd have to stall until they hashed out their feelings.

Stepping out of the cab, the boy threw a wave at the driver as he pulled away. He headed inside, having probably only beaten her by a moment. He ordered black coffee, something that would wake him up a bit but wouldn't take too long to make. He chose a table near the window, happy to have the sunlight spilling over him.

At least the little things were still normal. This coffee was still so bitter that each sip made him cringe and the sunlight still caused excessive floaters in his vision. Normality, it was a blessing.

---

Grand Ridge Academy - Outside.

Interactions

@Surtr Inc & @Atrophy

---

As they walked outside and around the building, Aliana was left to turn through her thoughts. She didn't know what was going on but she knew that she was growing increasingly curious. She was both dying to see what Lynette had to show them and also completely and utterly frightened of it. Things like this weren't supposed to happen, the fact that they were was a little more than she could take.

Aliana was good at keeping at keeping it together, usually, but with the fucked up dreams and the insane events, she was cracking a little. When she'd envisioned hanging out with Lynette and Penny, it didn't involve exploding mirrors and being invisible. She couldn't stop touching her wrist, feeling the mark that her bracelets barely concealed. It was there and it had glowed. Just like Lynette. Whatever was happening, at least she was in it with Lynette.

That should be comforting, if Lynette could keep it together through this then so could she. It was just way beyond normal for her. She didn't know much about the paranormal or the extraordinary, she had never cared much for fantasy. She wasn't an escapist or idealist, she was a realist. None of this seemed real.

With her nails digging into her wrist, she watched as Lynette scrawled the symbol. It was strange to see it clearly now, she had only seen the bits of it in the shattered glass before. She watched intently as Lynette stepped away from it, she could feel her muscles tensing as she prepared for the inevitable explosion.

She was caught off guard when a column of flame bursted out of it and she gasped sharply, scrambling back a bit further. "Jesus-!"

Her eyes were wide and her gaze was fixated on the seared grass. Of course, she should have expected that it would be as volatile as the explosion. The fact that it had taken a moment had made her ease up in the false assumption that it might not happen at all. "I think it's safe to say that we both saw that. Is this some kind of magic? I know that sounds stupid but I can't think of any other way to explain it."

Of course, Penny was never one to be outdone. When she opted to show them her magic trick, Aliana could feel a sort of pleasant surprise. It was easier to face this with all of them dealing with it. It made them into their own little club. A cluster of friends with weird ass powers. She almost liked it.

She stepped a back a bit further, in case Penny displayed something frightening. The pens clattered into the wall and she watched with a kind of intrigue. Fire and some kind of tele-whatsit energy. There was a quickly growing mess behind the school and when Penny hit her with her inquiry, Aliana couldn't help but remember why this was so weird. This shit didn't just happen.

"You're not going to need to step back for this, I'm not sure if I can even repeat it." she drew in a breath, counting down the moments that she held it before she released it.

The mark on her wrist illuminated, the color leaking through her bracelets. She could almost picture it, like some sort of blanket of invisibility. She let it fall over her, she let it fall over Lynette again. It was as if they'd never been there, not so much of a shadow was left behind in their absence. The empty space didn't last very long, she was too tired and her focus was too awry.

They flickered back into sight, she exhaled again. "Ta-da! I'm officially at bad magician level while you're both destructive forces of nature."