Realistic or Modern BEING HUMAN - CHAPTER II: SLOW DECAY

[Avari]

Avari
Lucrezia | Lisa Sparrow | Various NPCs

MagicPenguin
Roland Fairchild | Arryn Blacksmith | Samantha Fletcher

IG42
Tannur Yale | Clair Drayden

koala
Morgana | Elena Benoit

Disco
Avery Luciano

WillfulWren
Silver Ferae

shadowz1995
Sebastian Williams

Larry
Ludwig Von Lowenburg

Shotgunpenguin
Juniper Arc

Pilgrim59
Scarlet Sommerfield

Phayne
Ezra Lawless

doneanddusted
Summer Jones

Deadly Malice
Ashton Hawkins

The_Omega_Effect
Nikolai Vissarionovich

Mqueserasera
Ginny Grey




1) Please start each post with your location, character name and the name of the player you're interacting with. (If applicable)
2) No harming other players without strict permission
3) If you're not going to be able to respond to a post within 3 days, please make it clear on the OOC
4) Avoid more than 3 players in one conversation where possible. It gets messy. Please plan interactions in advance.
5) IMPORTANT: Please ensure you adhere to the day/night system explained below.

IMPORTANT THE DAY/NIGHT SYSTEM IMPORTANT



In a vein similar to the Persona games, the RP is broken up into a cycle of day and night time segments - each will be clearly marked by an update from myself with a calendar post that will tell you the date and weather, along with any notable events that are going on around London. Think of them as effectively mini-chapters within the RP, to ensure no one jumps ahead or is left behind.
You are restricted to one activity per day. One for the daytime, one for the nighttime.

Example of an activity:
1) Your character interacts with another player.
2) You perform any other sort of notable task.
3) A plot related activity with me

Please note: Even if you've completed your activity for the day, you can still take part in the posts of others - as long as it is from their perspective.

An Example:
1) Summer meets Morgana for lunch before going to work. (Summer's perspective. Shmivian's activity for the day is complete) -> Lisa goes to the bakery where Summer works and has a drink and chat. (Lisa's perspective. Avari's activity is complete)
2) Lisa spends the evening working at the bar. She chats to several characters during the night (their perspective). Afterwards, she has an adventure on the way home. (Lisa's perspective. Avari's activity for the night is complete)

The system can be flexed as necessary depending on the situation and kinks will be ironed out as we encounter them.

DAILY LIFE

The world is modern day London. From July 2018 onwards. For the vast majority of characters - day to day life is a grind as you not only struggle to pay for rent and food, but deal with the stresses of trying to keep your head down and avoid discovery after the Covent Garden disaster - regardless if you were directly involved or not As a general guide, you should be attempting to follow a realistic life/work balance and always keep your characters financial situation in mind. Please avoid situations where there are more than three characters interacting at once. If you insist on doing so - please plan it in advance. It always becomes a mess.
Aetherian characters have only been on Earth for two months at most, and will still be occasionally baffled by certain facets of society. Abnormals and Humans will naturally be far better adjusted.

THE FOUNDATION

The primary threat to Abnormal and Aetherian characters - even if they're not aware of them at the start of Chapter II. The Foundation is led by an enigmatic man called Kaysen, who is in charge of investigating and locating the culprits behind the Covent Garden disaster. He has a small army at his command, and the Foundation seem to be fully aware of Abnormals and the threat they pose. They have seemingly limitless resources and the complete compliance of the police. Kaysen will always be hunting you. And there will occasionally be posts from Kaysen's perspective as he works the case.
Be aware that using your powers around witnesses will hasten Kaysen's investigation. If you're caught, that's basically it for your character and you'll have to create a new one. No, i'm not kidding.

Please give this post a heart/cookie to say you've read the rules before you start posting. thanks!
​

 

[Avari]

WEATHER: SUNNY | HOT!
UPCOMING EVENTS: NONE
NEXT FULL MOON: 28TH AUGUST
​

It's been one week since the events of Covent Garden. London is still recovering from the damage it sustained from the storm - with many parts of the Underground still flooded, causing chaos for commuters as public transport has been crippled. Covent Garden itself has been completely sealed off, with a military guard watching the roads for trespassers. Thankfully, Summer has arrived (The season not the character) and the boiling temperatures have reduced a great deal of the flood water. The media is still demanding answers for the cause of the destruction of Covent Garden - many believe it was simply a fire that got out of control, while others think it an act of terrorism. The government is yet to put out an official statement regarding its cause, but an investigation is ongoing. The Public remain anxious for answers.

The Aetherians have been laying low for the week.

​

 

[Avari]

LISA'S APARTMENT​

​

“-and more on that story later,” The middle aged newscaster said cleanly, as he made a show of shuffling his papers and span his chair back towards his desk - his eyes looking at a invisible audience.
“Back to the main news: There is mounting pressure on the government by the survivors of the Covent Garden disaster to adequately explain the events that caused the widespread destruction of the area. So far, there have been no official statements from her majesty’s government outside of a brief press conference early yesterday morning, which thanked the prompt and professional response of the emergency services. Opposition leader Jer-”

A sudden blast of static as the channel as promptly changed. The morose newscaster was replaced with the beaming face of a middle-aged woman with too much makeup and unnaturally white teeth.
“I’ve always struggled to make my kids lunches that are both healthy and fun, but that all changed with Davison’s 100% Chicken drums-”

The channel changed again. This time it was some form of animation. A yellow square with a grotesque approximation of a human face was flipping burgers in a restaurant kitchen. And he was also underwater. Because reasons apparently?

“Sure. Whyever not.” Lisa sighed as she finally gave up trying to find a interesting channel to watch and threw down the remote onto the sofa, her bowl of cereal still precariously balanced in her other hand and her feet propped up on the table. Sunlight was bleeding through a crack in the curtains, and the heat inside was already becoming unpleasant. Luckily, Lisa had found a worn old fan on one of her raids around the local charity shops a few days back, and it was now rattling merrily along - pushing the occasional waft of precious cold air in her direction as she lazily munched on her breakfast: a mixture of processed oats and little sugary... sponge things. She liked those.

She always left the oats though. They were a complete waste of time.

Speaking of a waste of time - truth be told, she feared she was going out of her mind. When she had ordered everyone to lay low until everything blowed over, she hadn’t envisioned the entire time to be an exercise in tortuous tedium. The only interesting thing that had happened so far was last Thursday night, when her silvery hair had spontaneously changed to light blonde while she had been eating dinner with her new flatmate. It had also been accompanied by a gunshot like crack that had been so loud that several car-alarms outside broke into cries like startled babes and her new flatmate promptly spilled her meal all over the floor.

Turned out she had also grown a full inch in height over night as well - which she had unfortunately discovered when she banged her forehead on the cupboard door she had never had issues with before. Thankfully things had finally settled down for her physically, at least she hoped so. She had no idea how much more work the regeneration magic Lucrezia had wrought upon her had left to go: Hopefully at the least she would stop any more spontaneous growth spurts. She couldn't afford to completely redo her wardrobe twice in one month. She was already borrowing one of her flatmate's vests.

Speaking of her new flatmate...

Morgana strolled into the living room, a white towel around her neck to catch any stray droplets of water. Dark hair clung to the sides of her tan cheeks as the woman's amber eyes scanned the makeshift living room before finally resting upon Lisa. She'd noticed the new and improved Shadow Queen was sitting and doing the same thing she had been before the warrior showered, and that promoted a small sigh of disapproval, Lisa gave her a half-hearted wave, more interested in picking through her breakfast.

It was almost like taking care of Silver all over again, except being authoritative was not an option and being listened to was even more impossible. She didn't want to overstep her boundaries, considering the history the two have together, but there was much to be done and Lisa hadn't said anything about Covent Garden since the actual event.

"Queen Lucre-" The brunette began before pausing to correct herself. "Lisa, it has been a week and we still haven't met with the others. I know the incident from last week is still flooding the local news, but perhaps it's time to gather everyone and think of our next play?"

Lisa didn't seem to hear her. She had scooped several brightly colored milk logged shapes onto her spoon and was now delicately guiding it towards her mouth.

The corners of Morgana's lips drooped slightly as she sat next to the blonde teen. She watched with discontent as the once all powerful being swallowed a mouthful of sugar without a care in the world. An indescribable feeling grew in the base of Morgana's stomach as she let out a few deep breaths, wary of her withering patience and temper. After a few seconds, she asked once more, "Lisa, how much longer must we wait?"

The blonde girl seemed to make a point of loudly slurping the last dregs from her bowl, and put it down on the worn glass table, before putting her own feet back up on it. Her yellow eyes still fixed on the television, where the odd square creature now seemed to be talking to a poor approximation of a crab. The Crab said something and Lisa let out a small bark of laughter.

"A burger restaurant underwater," she said, nodding to herself. "Now that's progress."

She shot a sideways look at Morgana and blinked, as if she had only just noticed her.

"Oh hey you! What's up? Do you mind if I borrow another one of your shirts - I.. Sort of spilled milk on this one."

Morgana blinked back, unsure of how to respond. A mixture of emotions she'd never experienced or understood before welled up inside of her, and she shot up from her seat. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as her cheeks turned a light shade of pink, the patience she so carefully stretched out over the week finally dissipating. "Lisa." The woman began, her tone no longer cool and reserved.

"Hey."

"-I understand that we should keep our heads low until the Convent Garden incident blows over, but I really do not understand how you can be so different from Lucrezia. Atleast- atleast-"

The young woman began to pace around the living room, every negative emotion built up throughout the week finally being unleashed. She began muttering something in an ancient dialect, presumably a Druid one, before stopping and turning to her flatmate. "I did not decide to move in with you either so I could play, what the humans call, a 'babysitter'. If we are to live together for the days, weeks, months, or even years to come, we should at the very least share household responsibilities. That includes cleaning up after ourselves and working so we can split the rent in half, not lazing around."

"See that's pretty interesting," Lisa nodded a few moments later, after letting Morgana's seemingly perfectly reasonable request hang in the air like a bad smell.
"Because I don't really remember asking for your opi-?"

SLAP​

The sound of Morgana's hand meeting Lisa's cheek echoed throughout the apartment. Only silence followed, excluding the jarring static that came from the television behind her. A loud huff escaped Morgana's mouth as she stared down at the blonde teenager, the frustration evident in her amber eyes.

Lisa gently rose a hand to her cheek, a red hand-print marked across it.

"Well then." She said finally.

And then without warning, she launched herself forwards, her arms wrapping around Morgana's legs and using her head as a makeshift battering ram. The pair fell backwards - mercifully missing the table - and landed on the carpet in a pile of limbs, Morgana instinctively protecting her head from impact.

"Geez finally!" Lisa laughed, as she attempted to pin one of Morgana's arms down, but there was no real force behind it. "I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to snap. I've been trying to drive you mad all week."

"What? Why?" was all the banshee could manage to say, her anger replaced by utter confusion. She looked up at her flatmate as her eyebrows scrunched together slightly.

"Seriously. You've been running around after me all week like a housemaid." Lisa chuckled, as Morgana somewhat struggled to free her pinned arm. "I couldn't stand it. It makes me uncomfortable, alright? I just wanted you to tell me to go fuck myself. That's all I needed to know - that Lucrezia hadn't brought some... Mindless drone along. I'm proud of you."

She laughed again, and this time she rolled off of Morgana, and lay by her side - flat on the floor, hair spread out in all directions, panting for breath.



"...it is way too hot for this..."

"Oh... I see..." Morgana said slowly as she gathered her thoughts. She turned her head to look at Lisa before returning her gaze to the ceiling, a small smile creeping onto her face. A quiet chuckle left her lips and a light, unfamiliar feeling filled her chest. "I see." She repeated quietly.

Lisa reached over and gently booped her nose.

"Okay. We have got to get out of here. Oh that reminds me..."

She clamored to her feet, and offered Morgana her hand, who took it gratefully.

"You remember Hannah? She left me a message earlier. Sounded frantic. Did you... Uh... Wipe her memory?"

"Uhhh..."

Lisa stared at her blankly for a moment. "Oh this will be interesting."

Then span on her heel, darting for the bathroom.

"I shotgun the bathroom!"

"Have fun taking an ice bath, Lisa."

Lisa's face reemerged from the bathroom door, smirking.

"See that's the spirit. I do actually need to borrow one of your shirts by the way. Wasn't kidding about that. Sorry not sorry."

She quickly slammed the door before Morgana could respond.

LISA'S DAY ACTIVITY: COMPLETE

----

Written with koala ​

 

[shadowz1995]

The sound of a sink's faucet could be heard in the small one/one apartment along with a hiss of, what sounded like, pain. Within the cramped bathroom, was something of a hulk of a man. At six feet two inches, Sebastion certainly wasn't the tallest man in the world but he was definitely tall. Combined with 227 pounds of trained muscle, he looked like he could crush a human skull with his bare hands.

The current view of him seemed a tad bit more humble than that.

A white dress shirt lay draped across the toilet seat alongside a black suit jacket. Both pristine in condition if not for the half dried, brownish-red hue that marred the sleeves of the apparel. The cause of Mr. William's pain was the nearly closed up hole in the middle of his hand that was causing the water to become tinted with red. It was nearly completely healed but that didn't mean it didn't sting to high heaven and back.

If only his entree of healing came with a side of pain nullification. Then he would really be in business. But alas, no use crying over things that cannot be.

Sebastian reached into discarded suit's pockets and fished out his half-empty pack of smokes, pulling out one for himself. He had to pat around a bit for the lighter before remembering it was in his back pocket. He grumbled to himself as he retrieved the desired object from his dress pants. Lords above did he need this smoke.

The lighter sparked to life and in turn, set the cigarette's end ablaze. The near-immortal took a long drag before exhaling slowly with sweet, sweet relief and satisfaction. The smoke enveloped the small lavatory that would surely take days to air out but it's not like Sebastion cared. He wasn't going to stick around for long. Now, he just needed to get his hands on some scotch. Nice and neat.

Luckily, he had just that.

Williams opened the door of the bathroom, light wisps of smoke trailing after him as he walked. He kicked off his Oxfords and pulled the black tank top up and over his head, before tossing it on the rundown recliner.

The apartment was a real shithole. It looked more like a cockroach den than a living space but it provided what he needed for the time being. A place to put his head down for a few hours before continuing his search in London. He had been hearing whispers and rumors through the grapevine of a gathering of power in London. Naturally, Sebastion had made his way over to verify the validity of those rumors, as he always did. That was when the storm came and the subsequent explosion that had everyone and their mothers in a buzz. Sebastion had no idea what caused it, nor what kind of power was needed to create such damage but there was one thing he was certain of... things were changing. Powerful forces were on the move and he needed to find out what the devil was going on so he could steer clear. Most people would argue to just stay away from London in general if that was the goal but in Seb's experience, knowing what was coming made it much easier to avoid it. You didn't have to know everything... just enough.

As things stood, Seb knew nothing of the events that transpired and that was why he was here. It was why he rented out this shitty apartment for the week and took a job as a bouncer at a club as a cover for his presence.

It was also the reason he had a fresh hole in his hand. He had been assigned to keep a VIP lounge private. The client was some rich, young, stubborn prick with too much cash to blow and too many women doing the blowing. It was a long cry from his glory days back in the 1900s but so be it.

As it turned out, one of the female fratenizers was the girlfriend of a very jealous, possessive, and borderline psycho drug fiend. Apparently, he had caught wind of her activities to earn money and had snuck into the club with murder in his eyes. Sebastion was more familiar with the look in someone's eyes when they planned to kill than he cared to admit and so, he immediately moved to stop the man from getting any closer. The preventative action caused a hidden knife to be introduced to his neck.

Luckily, Seb saw THAT one coming from a mile away and quickly put up a hand to stop the knife from piercing his throat. Sure, it pierced his hand and it hurt like fucking hell, but it was better than his throat. The knife was buried handle deep and Williams simply closed his hand around the attacker's and with his free arm, brought 227 pounds of immortality trained muscle up into the druggie's sternum. His whole body lifted off the ground with the blow before collapsing into a barely breathing, unconscious heap.

Seb pulled the knife out, discarded the druggie out the back, and received a bonus for his service from the client. All without anyone really noticing what happened. Just some random idiot stirring up trouble at the VIP lounge area. It's just another night on the job for a bouncer.

Unfortunately, he came out of the club empty handed in terms of information.

"Ah, there you are."

The bottle of Scotch had finally been located. He grabbed a glass, added two ice cubes from the freezer, and topped himself off before heading to the recliner. His cigarette sat half smoked in one hand with a full glass of scotch in the other, in some rundown apartment, with nothing to on.

"Feels like a damn Noire movie...."

"And I'm the jaded detective on the case."

He let out a grunt of a laugh before taking a swig of liquid liver killer. Another pull from the cigarette followed.

The abnormal reached into his pocket and set his alarm for the evening. He had the night off due to incident several hours ago. That means he had a whole night to find what he was looking for.

About an hour passed until the cigarette was out and the glass was empty. After that, Seb merely crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and let the sweet embrace of unconsciousness take him. As always, sleep came almost too easily for him and he was out within minutes.

-Day time activity done-

 

[Phayne]

=On the Bus 2 to Marleybone Station=

"Yeah yeah... " muttered Ezra nonchalantly as he responded to the voice at the other end of his mobile phone, a look of disinterest obvious across his face as he held the device to his ear. To those presently packed like sardines inside bus 2 heading towards Marleybone station, the sound of an enraged woman on the other end of the phone could be heard screaming "...3rd day in a row!.....unacceptable behaviour.... unprofessional work ethic....late again..." her anger clearly stemming from the fact that Ezra was clearly going to be late for work for the 3rd day in a row. A few of the passengers pressed against Ezra had sympathy for him; finding themselves in a similar situation with their own bosses and getting chided by them during the week for their own lateness. Others were too preoccupied with trying to stay 'cool', the oven like temperature of the inside of the bus causing them to become hot and sweaty; the faint aroma of body odour beginning to waft through the interior of the bus.

Ever since the bullshit that occurred in Covent Gardens last week, the commute to work has become absolutely chaotic; not that it was any good to begin with. Rumours had spread all over social media as to what the cause of the destruction was with some people calling it a prank that got out of control whilst some went straight for the extreme, labeling it a terrorist attack. Though considering all the recent events that have occurred; several of which were in London, it was hard to fault them for jumping to the extreme possibility. Even now beyond the shouting echoing through his phone, Ezra could hear two women fortunate enough to snag a seat in the back of the bus discussing the event.

"Sally was telling me that it was some sort of electrical explosion... like lightning from that storm hit some sort of power generator..."
"Really?? I heard that it was a group of kids faffing about... bunch of hooligans pulling a prank that got out of control... you know how kids are these days.. some of them are no better then wild animals..."
"Could kids really have caused that much destruction? I don't understand why they haven't told us the cause in the news... all these rumours and stories... are the police even doing their jobs?"

Regardless of what kind of nonsense actually occurred, Ezra himself had remained rather unaffected -on a personal scale-. It wasn't like he ventured to Covent Garden on a regular basis or anything, or had any friends or family residing up in that part of London. If anything, it was no different to all the other crisis's that have occurred recently; another news story that had nothing to do with him. Aside from the usual delays it was no different for him and truth be told Ezra had no qualms about turning up late to the work place; it wasn't as if the job itself was a priority for him to begin with. Simply put, he needed to satisfy the job center and make it appear like he was looking for sustained work. He wasn't.

Without warning the bus came to a halt as the traffic light turned red, the sardines standing on the first level of the bus struggling to maintain their balance as the momentum of the sudden stop caused them to lean forward. Ezra presently standing in the 'disabled/stroller' section of the bus being squished against the side of the stairs as the oversized man next to him lost his fight to stay on both feet. Unwillingly smothered by the mans flesh, Ezra had dropped the phone to the floor, the second bounce causing it to go on speaker mode.

"Ezra.. are you fucking listening to me?... Say something... I'm telling you this is your last chance... I can pull a stranger from the street and replace you just like that!" came the voice from the phone, loud enough for everyone to hear; the majority of the people now turning their attention between the phone on the floor and Ezra.

"Fucking great.." muttered Ezra, in response to the situation rather then what his manager was saying.

"I beg your pardon?.. What did you just say?"

"Oh snap.." came a voice from the upper deck.

Ezra sighed, picking up the phone and brushing any dirt and debris off it. He didn't have the patience today to deal with her... it was already a Sunday... having to work a 4 hour shift during the morning in retail was already bad enough.. but having to listen to this bitch bark was simply not worth the minimum wage he was on.

"Look sweetheart..." he began, his tone rather calm and devoid of malice. "what exactly do you expect me to do... fly through fucking london to get to work?.." he asked rhetorically as the center of attention on the bus quickly became his conversation on the phone. "Your supposedly a smart person aren't you?" again rhetorical. "Don't you think that If I had the ability to fly I'd be flying in the opposite direction from you, you bipedal swine" a woman in the back gasped in shock. "... you've seen the news...Covent Gardens fucking blew up... the underground is a sewer... how exactly do you expect me to arrive on time you ditzy bitch... christ if I could work miracles I wouldn't be stuck working for you would I..." Ezra snapped back.

The silence on the bus was real now as everyone listened attentively to the phone call, though considering everything that Ezra had just said it came as no surprise that it had reached its climax already.

"Your Fired"

The sound of the phone hanging up came next before Ezra lowered the phone from his ear, a grin spread across his face as he was finally free from this latest job.

= Day activity done: Ezra =​

 

[MagicPenguin]

Arryn Bennett
Home

Arryn Bennett, the former blacksmith from Aether who had fought alongside the Hero of Light against the Shadow Queen, Lucrezia, sweat bullets as he scrambled busily about his apartment making sure everything was clean and in order before his visitor arrived. Hogan, the small golden retriever puppy that had come into Arryn's protection some time ago, gave a low whine from atop his little doggy bed as he eyed his overseer darting about the place in a flurry of wiping, clearing, arranging, and ordering. He usually wasn't such a stickler for cleanliness, but his landlord, the apartment manager, told him his new roommate was set to arrive today--any minute now, in fact--and he wanted to make at least a semi-decent first impression. And, of course, he had to make sure there was nothing...weird...lying around that might give away to a typical Earth person that he was not all he appeared. He did not really expect that there would be anything that could make it so obvious, but that did not stop him from somewhat anxiously going over every inch of every room as if there might be a neon sign hiding somewhere to point it out to anyone with half a brain.

In the days after the incident in Covent Garden, the landlord was first horribly angry about the broken window in Arryn's room that had to be fixed. Then, when he found out his old roommate, Daniel, had died--in a car accident, Arryn told the man sadly--he was all sympathy. He knew how close the two of them had been. He was nice enough to cut the rent in half for the month, seeing as Arryn could not pay the entire sum himself without someone to split it with, and said he would put the word out right away and see if he couldn't find someone else to take Daniel's place in the relatively comfortable two bedroom apartment. Impossible, Arryn had thought. No one could take Daniel Payne's place. He would have preferred simply to stay there alone with his grief than to even try, but the hard realities of expensive city living in London made that impossible. It was true that he could not pay for this place himself, so there was no choice but to seek out someone new as soon as possible, whether Arryn was ready for it or not.

Just as he was about to start his fourth--or was it the fifth?--round of every room, there was a knock at the door. "Coming," Arryn called, hastily setting down his cleaning implements and washing his hands. He approached the front door slowly and deliberately and stopped in front of it, taking a deep breath to prepare himself. This was necessary, he knew, but living with someone and keeping his and his friends' secrets from them was not going to be easy. He did not like to lie, no matter how necessary it was. And yet he would have to do that every day and night to whomever was on the other side of that door for no fault of their own. Sacrifices, he thought grimly. Steeling himself, he opened the door.

"Welcome," he called, trying to sound cheery despite the reluctance he felt churning inside.

Before him stood a young lady about his height, whose brown hair flowed from the shadows of her sunhat, like silky curtains upon a clear window. Her clear, crystal green eyes were emeralds upon hair fair skin, while her cherry cheeks only serve to further compliment her distinct makeup. The soft fabrics that endorsed the girl’s immaculate blouse and long skirt only furthered the foreign sentiments that Arryn had for her. Before long, the complacent lady’s tender lips would utter her soft, but polite voice.

“You must be Mr. Bennett. I’m Scarlet Sommerfeld and I shall be in your care. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance...” she greeted Arryn in her watered-down German accent.

For a moment, Arryn was speechless. He knew he'd be getting a roommate today, but the landlord had not told him it was a woman! And a pretty one! An unmarried man and woman living together? Was that normal here? These Earth people were awfully...progressive...compared to home, he reflected.

“...may I?” she giggled softly, with a reserved stance, as if unable to enter physically without his verbal invitations.

Abruptly, Arryn realized he was staring with his mouth hanging open. Quite rudely.

"Uh...Yes. Yes, of course," he stammered a little anxiously. He felt his cheeks grow hot and hoped they were not red. "Please, come in, Miss Sommerfeld. Please, just call me Arryn."

"Pardon my intrusions. Also, Scarlet would suffice in return." Scarlet smiled, as she stepped forth into the apartment.

Scarlet studied the man's visage and demeanor, catching a sense of hesitations in his green eyes, but held onto her amusement at the sight of Arryn's surprised expressions. She had assumed Arryn's dispositions to be similar to hers, as they were strangers after all. The man had seemed friendly enough to greet her, as well as his placid tone upon her arrival. While Scarlet put on her cheerful facade, the girl has yet to relinquish her cautious thoughts and gestures. Abiding by her human habits, Scarlet had restrained herself with a tight grasp upon her luggage. Her acquaintance's alluring aroma was tugging at her itching fangs, constricting her heart intermittently, as Scarlet attempts to regulate her breaths. Despite her sweet perfume and pleasant summer apparel, Scarlet has yet to see Arryn's impression upon her charms. Trains of thoughts ran by, as the girl eyed the room behind him, taking note of its hygienic integrity and derelictions. A peculiar item caught her attention, accompanied by her keen sense of another party within the house. Her vigilant observation, as well as her strange battle-pose was quickly dismissed by a small figure that approached the scene to greet her.

As if in response to Scarlet's thoughts, a tiny golden blur shot through the doorway between the living room and the front hallway where the pair now stood. With a mischievous bark, the little puppy ran circles around the newcomer's legs, sniffing her and taking playful nips by turns.

"Hogan," Arryn chided the pup. "That's rude! I'm sorry, Scarlet. This is Hogan. I'm sure the landlord told you there was a dog here, right?"

Scarlet retracted her knees and extended her hands to pet the adorable little pup. She looked up at Arryn and chuckled.

Hogan stopped his circles around her legs as soon as she started petting him. He soaked up the attention and the love joyously, plainly happy to be the center of attention.

"I was not informed of Hogan's capcity. It's quite alright. Aw! Look at you." Scarlet replied, as she continued to cherish Hogan's presence, of which had also distracted the girl from her bloody cravings.

Arryn smiled, happy his new roommate was alright with the rambunctious little animal. And he with her, it seemed.

"Can I get you anything, Scarlet? Coffee? Tea? Snack? The kitchen is right down the hall here."

Scarlet got up, and scanned the living room in awe, while shying away from the windows. She followed the receptive Arryn towards the kitchen, while pondering upon her thoughts of the place. Although it had seemed like a decent place with no faults to be found, Scarlet remained on guard, as she have yet to let go of her habits to study those around her.

"I'm quite content for the time being. Thank you, for your hospitality, Arryn. Say, what is your profession?" she replied, followed by a blunt question, gauging his response with her attentive eyes.

Arryn opened his mouth to answer and barely stopped himself from saying "blacksmith." He wasn't a blacksmith anymore, he had to remember. Not here. No matter how much time went by, he wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to that.

Instead, he said, "I work in construction and demolition. It's pretty easy work, most of the time; just swing a hammer as hard as I can and break things with it. I've been learning how to lay brick and do some carpentry on the side, too. What about you?"

Scarlet put on her lax demeanor upon his answer, while concealing her real thoughts about the initial disruptions in his flow of words. There was something about the man that she have yet to decipher, but like her previous encounters, the young vampire would prefer to be safe than sorry when it comes to acquaintances. Fleeting thoughts were retracted from her mind, as she chose her next words carefully, as well as her choice of expressions.

"Intriguing. Earnest works are rewarded with earnest pays, I would presume? As for me, I work at a hospital just a few blocks away."

"Ah, I see! Are you a nurse, then," Arryn asked as he leaned up against the kitchen counter.

"I have yet to obtain my degree on nursing. No, I am a humble janitor, whose work have kept me looking for an affordable place. To which, I have ended up here." Scarlet smiled, as she waved her hand at Hogan. The pup followed at her heels excitedly.

Her choice of words had retained an antique pattern to go about it, accompanied by her foreign accent that would inevitably catch Arryn's attention. Scarlet kept it to herself, as she chuckled lightly at her canine companion, whose captivating little acts sparked a little gladness in her.

"Yes, London is quite expensive. You're really doing me a favor, moving in here. No way I could afford a place this nice all by my-"

A loud beeping noise went off from somewhere behind Arryn, cutting him off and causing him to jump with a yelp.

After another beep, Arryn realized with a sigh of relief what was happening. Embarrassed at his overreaction, the brown-haired man fished into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, which had beeped to let him know he had a text. Earth technology was another thing he didn't think he'd ever get used to.

He tried to play off his weird reaction as he poked uncertainly at the phone's screen to try and bring up the message. "Sorry," he said anxiously. "I just got this phone and...I'm not quite used to it yet." Was that enough to explain the oddness of what just happened? He hoped Scarlet wouldn't think too hard about it. By the Light, it was going to be hard keeping his secrets from this woman. "Technology really isn't my strong suit," he said sheepishly, hoping that would cover his odd behavior

When he finally managed to get the message to come up, Arryn saw it was from his boss, asking when he was going to be coming in today. He'd gotten leave to come in a little late because he knew he was going to have to greet his new roommate today.

"Oh! It's quite alright. You see... I'm not quite familiar with certain things these days too. Fufufu." the lady smiled, casting her gaze upon Arryn.

Scarlet eyed the man with a puzzled look on her face. While she was not versed with what the modern informational era has to offer, she was well aware of his troubles. Studying Arryn's reaction to his ringing phone, Scarlet's sharp eyes pierced through Arryn's attempt at concealing his origins. While she was unable to tell if he was earnest in his response, her intuitions was telling her to keep an eye on him. As suspicions arise within her thoughts, so did the thrilling sensation that grasped tightly onto her heart. Scarlet's vampiric instincts surged throughout her body, as she brushed her hair behind her ears. She could see it in the little things, and would examine Arryn's demeanor without rest. But despite this, the reality of things tend to betray her of her insecure thoughts regarding her perception of others.

"Aha, well I'm glad I'm not alone in that," he replied, still a bit embarrassed. Was it just his imagination, or was she looking at him...suspiciously? No, it was definitely just his imagination. Definitely. She had awfully striking eyes, he reflected absently...

"A-anyway," he went on, "I'm sorry to cut our introductions short, but I need to get to work here soon. The boss is expecting me. I'll show you to your room down this way and be on my way."

Arryn walked her in through the living room and over to the two doors on the far side. "This one on the right will be yours. I tried to clean up as best I could for you after its previous occupant. It's nothing fancy, but I hope it's to your liking. If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back."

Trying not to rush, he went into his room and grabbed his wallet and his hoodie. Then, he took the sledgehammer from off the wall and placed it in one of the belt loops at his side so it hung from his waist. No matter how odd it might make him look, he was never leaving his hammer behind again, not after Covent Garden. He already told Scarlet he worked in construction, so she shouldn't think it TOO odd for him to head to work with a sledge hammer.

Scarlet followed up on Arryn's initiative, and set her singular luggage down in her room, eyeing it briefly, before closing the door behind her. While she was not impressed when compared with her hygienic conducts, Scarlet was glad to be given a room at the end of the day, and dwelled within the moment. It brought her back to the time where she had to spend her time foxholes and slums during an age of constant strifes. She reflected on Arryn's friendliness, of which had reminded her of a long lost friend in her troubled past. Before long, she was brought back to reality with a slight sensation of a closing door.

When he re-emerged, Arryn gave Scarlet a hasty farewell. "Sorry I couldn't stay longer. I'll be back a little later tonight. I walked and fed Hogan, so you shouldn't need to worry about him. Feel free to make yourself comfortable. What's mine is yours."

As he opened the front door,and made his way out, he turned and said, "Ah, and before I forget," he said with a smile, "welcome home."

"A pleasure."

Scarlet bowed politely, as Arryn took his leave. While took into heart the knowledge of Arryn's job as a demolition worker, the girl was still mystified at the fact that such a tool would accompany him home. It was almost as if it was the man's sacred tool of life. Scarlet contemplated on her own life, and ultimately discern herself from Arryn's unusual demeanor. She was no different from him, altogether, as any person would when certain things are addressed. Scarlet . She kneeled down with Hogan before her, giving the little pup a soft pet, as she narrowed her menacing eyes and muttered to herself under her light exhale.

"Men with secrets are always the most scrumptious... fufufu." Scarlet said to herself, before shaking her head lightly.

"No no... You're not eating anyone today, Scar! Especially not you, Hogan. You deserve all the treats and pets in the world!" she monologued, followed by a heavy sigh, before smiling at her newfound companion.

Hogan whined and cocked his head at her quizzically, even as he enjoyed her absently rubbing the sweet spot behind his ears.

Arryn's Morning Activity Complete

Written with Pilgrim59

 

[doneanddusted]

Summer Jones
Fulton Street

Summer walked out of her apartment, travelon bags strapped across her body. She grinned at the feeling of the warm summer air- she reckoned this was as cool as the day would get. Her friend Richard, who so graciously gave her a place to stay and a job, had gone out ahead of her. He liked to be the first one there. It wasn't like he fully trusted Summer, though; he didn't let her access certain parts of the apartment. Summer was fine with that. She had no use for the rest of his apartment... yet.

The young woman walked rather absentmindedly, her mind filled with anticipation of her work day. Working at a baker proved far more exciting than working at medical school. In exchange for book knowledge of these humans, she could now examine them and the way they worked in a more relaxed setting than in medical school. Back then, everyone was the same: either incredibly stressed, or incredibly stressed and hiding it. Here, there were people who felt all sorts of emotions, who did all kinds of interactions, some not even minding that they were being watched. Yes, aside from getting to make food, that was what she loved most about work. Maybe today she'd come across as particularly dense customer to ruin... or Richard would let her experiment with food... or perhaps she'd find the energy to make something exciting happen on her own! As long as she didn't screw up as badly as she did in medical school, anything was possible. Summer grinned at the thought of that.

Summer was standing at the front of a crowd of people, waiting to cross the street, when suddenly she felt something knock into her back. "Hey, watch where you're going," someone called angrily from behind her as she was shoved. Summer felt herself stumbling forward on to the street. She could hardly process anything- by the time she realized she was on the street, a car came straight at her.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roland Fairchild
Fulton Street, on the way to work

The Prince of Alcamoth and the Hero of Light stalked grumpily down the crowded city street, doing his best not to grimace and pushing his way as quickly as he could through the packed throngs to get to Jim's Tattoo Parlor where he worked. Roland Fairchild was a handsome youth--if not the powerful heroic figure he was on Aether--with fiery red hair, green eyes, and an expressive face. He was blue jeans with lots of pockets today, and a fashionable short sleeved shirt with a collar that left the brilliant red dragon tattoos coiling up the lengths of his forearms bare for all the world to see. Roland was usually a morning person and usually cheerful and optimistic about life, but his thinly-masked irritation on this particular morning was the result of several factors about which it seemed he could do nothing. About a week had passed since the fight with Staxos in Covent Garden, a week since he'd learned of the ancient city Odania hidden somewhere in this dimension. How hard could it possibly be to find a gigantic, sprawling city the size of Lake Odania, he asked himself? The answer, it turned out, was pretty damn hard. He'd spent nearly every free hour he had at the library, looking through old newspapers, encyclopedia articles, internet databases, and conspiracy theory websites. What did he have to show for it? Nothing. Not a hint, not a speck of an ancient abandoned city with architecture like that he'd seen in Lucrezia's...mind?....vision?...whatever that "demonstration" had been...after Staxos was defeated. All of creation was depending on his success, and he could find nothing. He did not know how long they had, but if this "Rakuyo" was not found soon, the universe would be destroyed. Well. Supposedly, anyway. According to the Mad Queen Lucrezia, Scourge of Aether and Mother of Lies. Ordinarily he would not believe such a wild tale at all, but if she turned out to be telling the truth by some miracle? The deaths of billions, not just on Earth, but on Aether as well, and foremost among the victims would be the people of Alcamoth that he was sworn from to defend with his life. He could not afford to take that chance. So, for the moment, until this city was found and the universe saved, he maintained an uneasy truce with his family's ancestral enemy.

Of course, if that was all, Roland would not feel nearly so annoyed right now. It had also been a week since he'd started his job as an apprentice of sorts to a perpetually angry tattoo artist named Jim, drawing designs and learning about the tools of the trade. This should have been a source of comfort for Roland, for he was an excellent artist and found the act of drawing to be a very calming one for him; he had a notebook full of very accurate pictures from his memories of Aether tucked away in the backpack he was carrying. Monsters, landscapes, architecture, his and his friends' true forms...all of it was there, drawn as perfectly as if he'd seen it all yesterday. Jim caught sight of his drawings, and through a sneaky bit of manipulation, all but bullied Roland into taking a job with him drawing designs. This, too, however, turned out not to be as easy as he initially expected. His co-worker, Silver Ferae, formerly a non-repentent mass murderer and a stalwart soldier for Lucrezia's forces, was a talented artist in her own right, capable of drawing images of nature with breathtaking skill. With everything else, however, she was clumsy, stubborn, obstinate, foolish, and all around useless. She could neither read nor write, amazingly, and had the understanding and disposition of a five year old at the best of times. When she was around, everything seemed to go wrong. She could not do sales because she couldn't do arithmetic, she couldn't take or read orders, she couldn't write script into her designs; even when she was TRYING to be helpful, cleaning the parlor, inspecting all the tools, she almost always ended up breaking the tattoo gun or dropping ink bottles everywhere. She made disasters out of absolutely nothing like it was her super power. And Roland was always the one who had to clean up after her. And he was always the one Jim came down on hardest! It just was not fair! If he did not figure out what to do about that mangy woman-child soon, he was going to lose his sanity completely long before he ever had the opportunity to get home. He couldn't kill her as long as the truce was in place, nor could he seem to persuade Jim to fire her for some reason, though the man seemed just as aware as he was of how detrimental she was to...everything. "She has potential, kid, and I intend to make something out of her if it fucking kills me. Or you. So stop complaining and get the fuck back to work you lazy piece of--" Bah! Total nonsense! If only Roland could figure out what to do with her!

Heroes in stories never had to deal with problems like these, Roland reflected not for the first time. It was always, good guy zips in, kills the bad guy, then live happily ever after. Just what under the Light did he do to deserve all the setbacks?

Roland was almost to the Parlour when, out of no where, he felt a chill crawl down the back of his spine. A brilliant pain exploded in his head, causing him to stop in place and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, everything around him was...different somehow.

Everyone in the crowds around him looked and sounded mostly the same, but they were somehow...fuzzier...and the honking of cars and garbled speech that reached his ears had a distinct echo as if it was coming from down a long tunnel. They moved along just as hastily and tightly packed as before, but they seemed to leave ghostly afterimages of themselves as they did; the afterimages faded quickly, but it gave everything a very surreal, dreamlike feel. Roland let out a gasp of surprise as a short girl with silver hair and purple eyes walked right through him as if he were a ghost. She did not acknowledge his presence in the least as she did so; he might as well have been a ghost as far as she was concerned. She was quickly followed by several other members of the crowd, who took as much notice of him.

"What in the...-" Roland began to speak in wonder before he was abruptly cut off.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" he heard a voice call out somewhere to his right. He looked over to see a man in a suit and top hat rush clumsily through a crowd of people trying to cross the busy street. As he did, he bumped into a dreamy looking girl with short, brown hair and bright blue eyes. Before she knew what was happening, the impact pushed her out into the street ahead of the light. Everyone around her seemed just as surprised as she did at what happened, though the inconsiderate man in the top hat kept on walking with a sour look on his face as if it were all the girl's fault. Before anyone could make a move to help her, Roland heard the screech of tires and a blaring horn and then all he could do was watch as a vehicle going too fast to stop in time collided violently with the surprised woman pushed into the street. He heard a scream, and a sickening crunch, and then... there was nothing but a non-moving body and a growing pool of blood.

"Oh, no," Roland said. If only he were closer, he could have...he could have...urgh...once again he felt that odd chill down his spine and that explosion of pain in his head. His dragon-covered arms raised to clutch his aching noggin, but just as quickly as it had come, the pain was gone again. When he looked back up, everything was back to normal. The crashed car and the corpse in the street were vanished. The crowd of people waiting to cross the street were still there. The girl was with them, staring off dreamily with a smile on her face as if she were somewhere else completely, just like she had been just a few seconds before. But Roland had just seen her...what was going on?

He felt an impact from behind. "Oh, sorry, excuse me," said a short silver haired girl with purple eyes as she hurried past him while looking at the ground. She was quickly followed by another woman. "Don't just stop in the middle of the street, you idiot," she called angrily as she bumped into him a little harder than was strictly necessary.

Roland started walking with the flow of the river of people, confused and embarrassed. He looked back at the crowd of street-crossers. A man with a top-hat started walking through, just as he'd seen before. Roland's instincts kicked into high gear. It was like he was watching everything happening over again. And if that was the case, then...

Roland went running full burst past the woman and the girl who'd bumped him, nearly trampling the smaller girl in his haste, determined to get to the dreamy-looking woman before the rest of that...whatever that was...played out again, even as he heard the asshole in the top-hat shout, "Hey, watch where you're going!"

Mentioning WillfulWren and written with MagicPenguin

 

[MagicPenguin]

Spoiler: Sam's Dream Journal Excerpt

I Dreamt I was watching a place with blazing fire and unrelenting rain. The sky overhead is covered in red clouds, and it looks almost as if the night itself is ablaze. There is a massive pit filled with spikes, and a rope going across its diameter. On one end, the rope is held tight by twelve bickering people who cannot seem to agree on anything. On the other, it is held by only two, a demonic creature with wings black as night and a wraith-like skeleton that shines gold whose ugly face and bad intentions are hidden by a pristine white mask. The twelve hold the rope tight and pull with all their strength even as they bicker and argue amongst themselves. The masked wraith and the winged monster give a single sharp tug, and the whole group of twelve is jerked closer to the pit, where the first two people in the line, a dark-haired woman with yellow cat-like eyes and an old man with the tail of a wolf, fall in and are impaled on the spikes.

Seeing their 'comrades' fall, the remaining ten cease their bickering and focus their strength to pull their two adversaries into the pit. Far from being able to budge them at all, it is all the group can do just not to get pulled in themselves. Eventually, they rally and give a particularly sharp tug on the rope, and the dark winged beast falls atop the spikes in the pit. Enraged, the wraith pulls harder, forcing the group of ten closer to the pit until the one in front, a man with the head of a dragon, teeters on the edge, about to fall in. Before he can tumble to his doom, a ghost of the dark haired woman from before wraps herself around his torso and pulls him back. When he is safe, the ghost turns into a blonde haired woman of mysteries who grabs the rope and adds her strength to the remaining ten. With her added power, the eleven pull the rope again and the masked wraith cannot withstand them; he falls into the pit and is impaled on the spike right beside his dark-winged companion.

Tired and nearly beaten, the group of eleven disperse, leaving the area around the pit burnt by fires and destroyed by wind and rain.

A silver fox comes sniffing about the pit when they've all left, smelling the fire and blood in the air, wondering where everyone has gone...

Excerpt from Samantha Fletcher's Dream Journal; entry written when she was age eight.

Samantha Fletcher
Home->Fulton Street

Sixteen year old Samantha Fletcher, with striking silver hair and haunting purple eyes, walked out the front door of her father's modest little house with bag hanging over her shoulder. "Be safe," the heavyset man called worriedly from behind her. She smiled and waved her assent to her beloved papa as she closed the door behind her and descended the front stairs. He was understandably worried about letting her go out on her own after what had happened in Covent Garden. She had a few days left of Summer vacation, however, and did not want to spend all of them cooped up inside. Sam intended to spend the morning writing about her Dream last night in her journal somewhere quiet while it was still vivid in her mind. Maybe she could figure something out if she pored over it long enough. Some nights she had regular dreams like everyone else, but every so often, sleep brought her something more: dreams that told the future, ones she thought of as Dreams, with a capital D. She did not know how she knew the difference between dreams and Dreams, but she always did. There were so many things about her "gift" that she did not understand; her mother, who supposedly had something similar according to Papa, had died well before she could explain any of it to her daughter. Whenever Sam had a Dream, she felt it was important to write it down; again, she did not really know why. It was just a compulsion she'd always felt the need to satiate, writing down her prophetic Dreams. If she did not, it was like there was an itch that she just could not scratch until she'd written it down somewhere. She wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it until it was recorded. She'd started keeping a journal of them when she was about five years old, one she always kept with her and whose contents she never showed to anyone, not even her papa.

As she walked down the idyllic suburban street, she called out her good mornings to the young children who lived in the two houses down the block from hers, a girl and a boy of about eight years. She was sometimes asked to babysit them for their parents, and she always agreed because staying near those two children in particular always made her smile. Whenever the two were together, a ring and bouquet appeared above each of their heads; only when they were together. Not everybody had them, but Sam saw such images sometimes, little pictures floating above people's heads that only she could see. She often did not know what they meant, but this one was as clear to her as her own right hand: someday, those two childhood friends would be married. It was as certain as sunrise; her viewings always reflected events that would come true. She had never seen a viewing that did not come true, nor had she ever been able to change one through any action of hers. Her Dreams and her viewings were not always so happy as the one she saw for those two, so it was a breath of fresh air whenever she encountered them together.

Humming to herself, Sam made her way from the suburban area where she lived to the bustling Fulton Street, from which she could get to any number of places that she liked to frequent. She wondered where she should go today. She inserted herself into the packed flow of people going about their daily routines, as used to the loud sound of honking horns and fast moving cars in the street to her left as any London native could be. Perhaps she could find a quiet little corner to do her writing in the Author's Attic, a local bookstore, she reflected. Or perhaps the library. She would have liked to go to Miller's, if Covent Garden had not been destroyed. Lost in thought considering her options, Sam did not notice the man in front of her stopped dead in his tracks until she bumped right into him.

"Oh! I'm sorry, please excuse me," she called, embarrassed. Casting her eyes downward so she could not see any part of him but a flash of something curiously red on his forearm, she slipped past the man and meant to continue walking on her way. When she looked up again she too found herself stopped dead in her tracks.

Her ability to see small glimpses of the future was more a curse than a gift, she'd always thought. Not only did it alienate her from others when she was growing up, the knowledge she gained was basically useless, for she could do nothing to change any of the things she saw. She'd tried on many occasions as she was growing up to change a viewing she did not like, and always, always, the only thing she could ever manage to do was either speed up or slow down their coming to pass--if she was lucky, that was all she did. More often, she would inadvertently introduce some unforeseen consequence as a result of her trying to change things. So she knew from experience that when she saw a horrible viewing like the one at which she was looking, there was little she could do but watch it play out.

Not ten feet from her, a brown haired woman stood waiting to cross the street. Looming above her head was a stark white skull, its empty eyes boring into Samantha's own like laser beams. Like the ring and bouquet, she knew exactly what this one meant: that girl was going to die. Within minutes--no, seconds--probably. Sam did not know how it would happen, exactly, but it was inescapable. If Sam tried to save her, she might turn a quick, painless death into a long, excruciating one. Or cause the deaths of five people instead of just the death of one. But one thing Sam knew: there was no action she could take to prevent this girl's imminent demise.

She should run, Sam thought. She didn't want to see whatever was about to happen. Even as she turned to go, however, several things happened at once. A man in a top-hat knocked into the dead girl from behind at the same time as a man barrelled past Samantha so roughly that she was knocked to the ground. "Hey," the top hat man called, "Watch where you're going!" The girl, taken by surprise, was propelled roughly into the street before the light had a chance to change. The screech of tires accompanied an oncoming car trying to brake in time, but Sam knew it was too late. She closed her eyes tight so as to avoid seeing what came next, tears streaming down her cheeks as she did. She expected to hear the sound of a collision and cries of anguish soon to follow it, but, surprisingly, she did not.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw the man she'd bumped into before on the sidewalk laying on top of the woman who was supposed to die. The car that should have crashed into her had skidded to a halt where she stood seconds ago. Sam's mouth dropped open in shock; couldn't believe what she was seeing. That man had actually saved her?! But that was...that was impossible! Her viewings always came true! Always! She'd never seen one fail; how could this man have possibly changed fate? Even as she thought these things to herself, the stark white skull above the girl's head cracked, and then shattered like glass into a million pieces. She'd never, ever seen a viewing do anything remotely like that before in all her life. The skull was abruptly replaced with a series of other images, viewings of things that would happen to her now that her grisly fate had somehow been avoided. She absently made out a bird with a broken wing, a cake with the image of a red hand drawn in frosting on it, and a tall chef's hat that was crushed and torn all to pieces.

"Are you okay," the man asked the woman who should be dead. "That was a close call."

He got up off of her gingerly and held out a hand to help her up. He scowled down the street in the direction the man with the top hat had gone. "Where did that dickhead go? He nearly just killed somebody!" His head swiveled, scanning the crowds, but apparently the man was gone, because he stopped searching with an irritated grunt and turned his attention back to the woman.

If what he had done was not shocking enough, that was almost a pittance compared to the man himself. A red-head with blazing red dragons tattooed onto his bare forearms, the man had more viewings above his head than any she'd ever seen before in all her life. Most people had one; two, maybe. She'd seen three maybe once or twice in her life, including for this woman here who'd just been saved. This man had....more than she could count. They spun about his head dizzyingly, moving in and out of her field of vision faster than she could register what they were.

Among them, she saw two red serpentine dragons like the ones on his arms intertwining as if in a dance; a balance scale, with a woman's body on one side and the world on the other; a sword that shifted and changed its form; a gun with a needle sticking out of the end, surrounded by silver bullets; an image of the man himself, digging a hole and hauling something up out of the ground; an image of two hands shaking, as if in greeting or making a business deal; a crow or a raven resting on his shoulder, cawing softly in his ear; a silver fox, sniffing about his red hair as if looking for something; and, above all, larger and more prominent than any other image, shining above his head as a beacon, a brilliant golden light, like a miniature sun following him around. There were many, many more. There were so many she could hardly make out his face through all of them.

"Hey, are you alright there?"

"Huh?" Sam tore her eyes away from all the images to look at the dragon-man himself, who was now addressing her with a concerned look on his face. Samantha abruptly realized how she must look, standing in the middle of the crowd with her jaw on the floor.

"Oh. Um," she croaked nervously. She licked her lips and tried to work moisture back into her mouth before speaking again. "Yes, thank you, I'm fine." She backed away a step, shifting her eyes anxiously about; it felt like everyone was staring at her all of a sudden. "I'm...um..." She tried to think of something to say to him, but her mind was blank. "Sorry, I have to go," she blurted out.

Somewhat intimidated by the impossible thing this man had just done, as well as all the frightening images above his head, Samantha turned and ran down the sidewalk in a random direction as quickly as her feet could carry her, not really thinking about her destination. She had to figure out what this all meant. Was it possible to somehow change the future after all? Who was this dragon-man with more viewings than she'd ever seen? How did he do what he did? Just what WAS this cursed ability of hers? It was all she could do not to cry out in frustration at the questions racing through her head, as well as the lack of answers for any of them.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Summer Jones
literally Fulton's Street

Summer was going to die. Summer was going to die! Oh, the exhilaration of realization, the wonderful thumping of the heart, the marvellous rush of blood- Some strange thing jumped on top of her. Well, the beastie probably didn't jump actually on her, but it sure felt like that. The whole world seemed to jerk. Her hand, probably more invested in keeping her alive than she was, reached out on to the ground to break her fall; it reached the ground and made a strange cracking sound. Before she knew it, Summer was sprawled on the ground, breathing heavy and heart fluttering; wrist in excruciating pain; with someone incredibly heavy on top of her.

"Hey, are you alright," the incredibly heavy individual said as he hoisted himself up off of her. He held a hand out to help her up as he said, "that was a close call!"

Summer began to laugh. She felt as if she'd just finished a crazy funfair ride, one that went straight up and down and in loops, all within the course of a few seconds. The thrill of it made her ecstatic. The young woman didn't stop laughing until she realized the beastie that'd knocked her over was now talking to her.

"Thank you!" she didn't forget to say (people liked it when she said certain words) and took the man's hand.

She took a good look at whoever kept her alive. Standing in front of her was a man on the shorter side- though he was still taller than her- with red hair and greenish eyes. Was he Iris- no, people didn't like when she asked that. He had a dragon tattoo on his arm.. interesting.

"Sure thing," the beastie replied. "Now, where did that dickhead who pushed you go," he asked as if to himself, scanning the crowds looking for someone. "He nearly killed someone!"

Summer's face remained rather neutral as the man looked around, though the wheels in her brain started turning. A good amount of people stared at her when she laughed- why didn't Beastie Boy do the same? In fact, instead of taking a moment to tell himself that laughing was maybe a natural reaction to almost dying, he instead focused on the guy who'd almost killed Summer. Like he was used to it. Or he was very forward thinking. The young woman looked to the side. Perhaps this was just a personality trait of his- but she still made a mental note about it.

When the man couldn't find who he was looking for, he turned back to Summer with an irritated grunt. "Well, he's long gone, it seems. Are you going to be alright? That wrist looks painful. Maybe we should get you to a hospital?"

Summer looked at her wrist. She'd forgotten that it hurt. Well, never mind that, she had other things she wanted to do. Situations like these always made her suspicious. She had to make sure...

"How'd you do that?" she asked Beastie Boy, making an awed face.

"Do what?"

"Well, surely I would've noticed an appearance as standout-ish as yours," Summer smiled at the man as she walked back on to the sidewalk. "You definitely weren't next to me before."

She paused.

"You're awfully fast."

The man shrugged. "I was just in the right place at the right time, I suppose. I saw the man come up behind you and I just...moved." Despite the confidence in his voice as he answered, Summer couldn't help but notice he seemed a bit puzzled himself at what had just happened.

The young woman laughed.

"Humans are capable of amazing things, aren't they?" she said, seemingly more to herself than anyone else.

"Yeah, they sure are," he said, laughing good-naturedly right along with her. "Anyway, my name's Roland. Or just Ron, if you want. Are you sure you're alright? You're awfully, uh...chipper for someone who nearly just died."

Summer shrugged.

Just then, the man's attention shifted past Summer's shoulder over to someone behind her. There, a short girl no more than 12 or 13 with silver hair and odd colored purple eyes stood staring at the pair of them, eyes wide as dinner plates and jaw nearly to the floor.

"Hey," Roland called out to her. "Are you alright there?"

She seemed to regain her composure somewhat, though she still looked at Roland as if he were a lion about to pounce on her. "Um. Yes, thank you, I'm fine." She shuffled back a step and crossed her arms over her torso as if to protect herself from something. "I'm...um. Sorry, I have to go." With that, the strange girl took off back into the crowds.

Inwardly, Summer made note of that.

"Hey, wait!" Roland called, but she was gone before he even got the words out.

"Odd," the beastie mumbled, scratching his head in confusion and then turning back to Summer. "What was that about, I wonder," he asked curiously.

He shrugged after a quick minute. "Well, no matter, I suppose. I just hope she's alright. You sure you're going to be alright? We can still get you to a hospital, get that wrist looked at."

Summer shook her head, still smiling.

"Do you know her?" she asked, making a slow and subtle walk in the general direction of the hospital.

"No," he replied. "I don't believe so. By the way, I don't think I caught your name. You are?"

"Right," Summer said, a bit irritated that Beastie Boy kept throwing her off track. "My name's Summer. I work at the joint cafe-bookstore." Perhaps it was better to stay off track for a bit.

"Oh, is that the Author's Attic? I've never gone myself, but a friend of mine works in the bookstore there. Small world, huh? Do you know Elena Benoit? Rose, her friends call her?"

Elena... or Rose...

"Probably, if you pointed her out ot me," Summer replied. "Everyone looks the same to me."

Summer had a wonderful memory (in her opinion), but it only worked well if she actually saw something worth remembering.

"Where do you work?" she asked.

"Work...?" Roland's eyes widened. "Oh, crap! I'm late for work! Jim's going to freaking kill me." Roland seemed flustered all of a sudden in a way that he hadn't been at risking his life to save a stranger. "If Silver actually gets there before me for once, she'll never let me hear the end of it. I swear to the Light, one of these days I'm going to strangle that little--" and on and on he went.

Summer tried to fake concern, though she couldn't help but a smile a bit at his panic. In that moment, all the little notes that Summer had made about him came back to her. His diligence from before, the girl's reaction, what looked like his own confusion at himself... and now, this sudden change in demeanor. The rescue from before became twice as questionable in Summer's eyes. Roland definitely wasn't normal.

"I think it's best for the both of us if we avoided each other," she said. "You seem like a busy man."

"Huh? Well, if you say so." Roland cleared his throat and seemed to regain some control of himself. Barely. "I suppose we should part ways here, then, miss. It has been lovely meeting you, Summer. If you're sure you don't need any assistance..." he paused, waiting to see if she would take him up on the offer after all. When she didn't, he cleared his throat again and went on. "Right. Well, then, in that case, I think I ought to be on my way now. Good day to you, Summer."

Walking at a pace that was only just barely not a panicked run, Roland moved down the sidewalk toward the shops on the other end of Fulton Street. Summer watched the Beastie Boy leave before looking at her two wrists. One was disproportionately thicker than the other.

Well, off to the hospital we go!

-

Daytime Activity for Summer, Samantha, and Roland: Completed

Mentioned: WillfulWren and koala ; Written with: doneanddusted

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Juniper Arc
Home

Juniper Arc was not in a good mood. It could have been because of the nasty looking scar that was slowly forming on her back that burned and throbbed at the tiniest prick. It could have been that upon trying to return to the area outside of Covent Garden to retrieve her discarded bike, not only was her bike gone, but she was forced to hide in an alleyway like some street rat for half an hour in order to avoid being recognized by one of the people she passed on her way home last week. Or maybe it could have been the fact that her stomach grumbled constantly as a testament to her abstaining from eating for the past two days, having to use all of the money she had saved up to purchase a used bike from another tenant of the landlord so that she wouldn't lose her job. But no, all of these problems seemed small in comparison when put against the one thing that was currently sucking all of the life out of the poor woman.

This. Ungodly. Heat.

Juniper sat cross-legged on the floor in front of a small rotating fan in nothing but her undergarments, basking in the small breeze that passed over her as the fan swept from side to side. The fan was one of many gifts that came about from her neighbors meddling, something she was eternally grateful for, despite how these gifts came about. It was only a day after the incident with Stalox and Lucien, Juniper had awoken to the sound of pounding on her door around ten in the morning. It was an...interesting experience.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1 Day after Covent Garden

Juniper's head pounded as she clenched her eyes tighter, gripping her blanket as she desperately tried to drown out the pounding sensation. When the pounding worsened, she opened her eyes and sat up from the cold wooden floor. The pounding was coming from outside of her head, and was accompanied by a voice. "Juniper? Juniper it's Karen Litch from the next apartment over. My daughter said that she saw you going into your apartment with a nasty cut. Are you alright?" Getting up from the floor her blanket slid off of her as she walked over to her front door. She unlocked the bolt and opened the door, coming face to face with her neighbor. "Juniper I- Good lord!" The woman covered her eyes and turned her head away, words sputtering out as Juniper looked on confused. She looked down at herself before noticing her wet clothes still in a heap at the base of the door frame, and the absence of clothes on her. "Oh, sorry about that. My clothes were soaked." There was no embarrassment in her voice as she turned around and walked back over to her dresser, ignoring the startled gasp as she heard the door behind her close. After she put on a pair of black shorts and a too large t-shirt she turned to find Karen standing in her apartment. "I don't remember inviting you in."

"Juniper, is this everything you have?" The woman seemed shocked at how bare and empty Junipers apartment was. Other than a dresser, her alarm clock and her pillow and blanket the room was bare of anything else. Juniper didn't know why the woman seemed surprised, she had everything that she needed to survive. "And what happened to your back? Why is it all bandaged up?" Sighing, she crossed her arms "What happened is none of your business. As for what I own yes it this is it." Karen seemed taken aback by her dismissal of her question, but her gaze softened as she asked "Are you okay? If you want I know some charities that can help." She reached a hand out to put on Juniper's shoulder but it was quickly swatted away "I don't need charity." She snapped before pushing past Karen "I'm going to work. Let yourself out when you want." As she slammed the door behind her, Karen paused before sighing and pulling out her phone. She had a lot of calls to make.

When Juniper returned from her long walk, and even longer conversation on how she lost her bike, she was confused to why there was a large metal car outside of the apartment building. There seemed to be workers moving pieces of furniture up to someone's apartment, and a woman with too much makeup talking to a man with a camera. Upon noticing Juniper the woman put on a smile and rushed over to her as well as she could in her heels. "Hello you must be Juniper. My name is Venesa Harper of the Daily Courant it is so nice to meet you." Venessa took her hand and held it while a bright flash caused her to blink. She kept blinking, unprepared for the flash as Karen walked over to the group with a large smile on her face. Juniper simply scowled as the two women explained the situation.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so, after much explaining and glaring, Juniper was featured in a story about poverty stricken citizens and the purpose of a charity to help them. The image that they used was when Venesa was shaking her hand with her staring at her with a confused expression. Still, it wasn't all bad. She received an actual mattress to sleep on instead of the floor, a small chair made of leather, some strange metal objects that they called 'kitchen appliances' as well as a few more changes of clothes and other small but useful items.

She sighed again as the small fan passed by her again before looking over at her small alarm clock that rested on her drawer. Damn it, she was going to have to leave soon. Slowly getting up from her floor she threw on the lightest clothing she could find and braced herself for this next part. Throwing open the door she instantly shielded her eyes and face as the sun beated down on her, the heat so much worse outside of her apartment. Walking downstairs and mounting her bike she began the slow ride to work. On the way over she debated for the tenth time whether to try and visit Morgana or Tannur. They were supposed to be lying low, trying to keep their heads down and distance themselves from the incident. Would meeting up make them look suspicious? If anyone would recognize them it could lead to some complications, but then again why would it be suspicious. They could just say that they work together for the same boss and leave it at that.

"I should at least try and contact Morgana." She thought as she rounded the corner. But first, a long day of hell delivering parcels in this heat awaited her.

Junipers Day Activity: Complete

 

[koala]

Elena "Rose" Benoit
Date: Sunday, August 8th
Location: Home > Author's Attic
Mentions: Ana, Arryn

The last week was entirely uneventful for Elena. After arriving at the bookstore the night of the incident, awakening a very alarmed and confused Thomas, she was quickly placed under his care. Being a former army medic, Thomas was quick with his hands as he checked the severity of the woman's wound. "It's deep, but the circumference is small and the branch missed all your major arteries. Give it two weeks and you'll feel good as new." He'd told her before sending her and her flatmate, Ana, back home. Since then, the dark blonde was forced to take a leave of absence from work even though she felt like she could take on the world's biggest super villain by day three.

"I'm going to work!" Elena called out to her flatmate as she put on a pair of simple nude sandals, unsure if Ana was awake or even at home for that matter. She looked herself once in the body mirror that hung near the doorway, checking her mental checklist. The light, floral dress she wore was an off-white with small golden flowers sprinkled across it. Little brown specks complemented the pattern, collecting into groups to act like vines and leaves. The dress itself formed a v-line an inch or two below her collarbone and the sleeves fell a few inches passed her shoulders. With a small smile, the young woman twirled in place slowly and watched with mild awe as the dress swayed back and forth along her calves.

Satisfied with her overall appearance, Elena finally took a step out into the open world. The sun beamed down on her warmly, prompting her to let out a deep, slow breath. Of course, she was forced to wince slightly as her side was not fully healed so the motion stung a bit. "Ouch..." she mumbled quietly, placing a hand on her abdomen as she began the journey to work.

Though somewhat in pain, the woman happily followed the similar motions she'd performed every time she made her way over to Author's Attic: greet those that walked by; people watch as she rode the bus; and grab a cup of tea from a local stand while tipping them extra. It was all very comforting for her, knowing that she could still do her favorite, insignificant activities. Thinking of that, however, left a small whole of sadness in her heart because she knew someone who could no longer do such things. Daniel.

Elena felt her eyes well up slightly as she stood in front of the bookstore, tea in one hand and purse and keys in the other. She clumsily attempted to unlock the door, asking herself why Thomas hadn't done so yet since he lived there and why Daniel had to... well... die. His death hadn't impacted her as much as she knew it bothered Arryn, but it still got to her. The first two or three days were probably spent crying from both sorrow and pain. It was simply all too sudden, and while she still felt the deeply affected, Elena was well aware that she needed to put on her best smile for her blacksmith friend.

"Rose!" Thomas called from a tall ladder, looking down at the blonde with a stern expression. "What on Earth's name are you doing here!? I told you two weeks." The older man speedily stepped down, patting his dusty pants down and crossing his arms as he scanned her. Elena only raised an eyebrow and attempted to imitate his pose as best she could, items in her hands and all.

"Yes, you did, Tom." She replied as she began to set her belongings under the counter. "And I told you yesterday, that I was coming in this morning."

"I-" He attempted to respond before she cut him off.

"No, check your messages. I did tell you."

Thomas frowned as he pulled out his cell phone, the musical beeps filling the empty bookstore. He scrunched his eyebrows after a few seconds of mindless searching before his thin, pink lips formed a small 'o'. After letting out a hearty chuckle, which Elena couldn't help but smile at, he turned to her and pointed his finger in her face. "Alright, lass. You got me, but I'm watching you. No heavy lifting for the next week, you hear?"

Elena nodded and pointed back at him, her rose-tinted lips smirking back at him in mock humor. "Of course, Tom. I'm watching you too, you hear?"

Elena's Day Activity: COMPLETE​

 

[IG42]

Tannur

"Another order Tanner!" A voice rang out followed by a quick snicker.

Sighing Tannur gave the breadknife he had been idly tossing in the air one last flip and grabbed the order slip already knowing what was coming, sure enough along with the name was yet another phone number the fourth in the three days since the deli had reopened after the storm and all of them were from other men for some reason he couldn't fathom. Glancing around he spotted a man that looked to be a few years older than Tannur currently appeared watching him though the potential suitor quickly looked away when their eyes met.

Finally looking at the order itself he got to work. At least no one serenades outside your window here. He thought to himself as he worked while casually spinning the knives around his fingers. When he looked up again he saw another customer pointing one of those blasted phones at him, if he'd known that what he was doing was being captured on video when they did that the first time he would have asked them to stop but by the time he realised his knifework was being shared with the whole world the management had caught onto the attention he was drawing to their small business and encouraged him to keep going.

Wrapping the sub up he called out. "Order up for...and I'm not reading that out." Slapping the slip on the counter next to the sub he started wiping down a knife while a passing coworker glanced at the slip and read, "Total Stud" out loud and laughed. Here's hoping Silver is keeping The Hero more miserable than me. He had only found out about Silver's new coworker once his roommate had recovered enough from her injuries to return to work and had mentioned him in passing, truce or not truce he had been worried but there didn't seem to have been any trouble yet and it wasn't like Silver could just go and get another job.

Grabbing the next order slip he started all over again hoping something would happen soon.

Tannur day complete

 

[Disco]

Avery Luciano​

​

Part 1 - The Luciano Family Home

​

Black or blue. Sometimes, the simplest choices are the most difficult to make. On one hand, the black complimented the other simple colors, right to the silver on his wrist. Although black was always so dreary. Blue on the other hand, such makes for a subtle splash of color that pops without being too loud. Picking shorts is a trying task.

Avery decided he had wasted enough time and went with the blue. It’d likely be more bearable in the heat anyways. Once the man had finished readying his dress, he took a turn on his heel to observe the bedroom.

The sheets were perfectly folded and tucked away within the bed. The desks and drawers fresh and clean. His prized, and expensive, Viola was safely placed on its corner stand near the sheet music and bow. A few white roses sprouted from small pots by the windowsill, feeding off the morning sun. The sewing kit with some sort of work in progress stashed nearly near the desk. Both Avery himself and his room were in place, very important matters for the young man.

He made his way down the staircase, carefully stepping along downwards. Below was his immediate family – Mother, younger sister and brother. Judging by his father not being around the house, he must be at work.

“Buona Mattina.” His smooth, calm voice greets. A soft smile strewn across his face.

The family cheerily greeted him back. It was clear to see just what personality showed to who. Avery’s mother and siblings were more cheerful while Avery himself took after the more stoic demeanor of his father.

Avery’s eyes first darted over to his mother, who was painting alongside his sister. She painstakingly crafted a work of her own art upon the canvas. It’s clear the care she’d been attempting to put onto the canvas was meditated. She was also careful to set out plenty of cloth and tarp for any messes. Next, his direction focused to his brother. Gabriel was playing some sort of game on his phone. From the distance, it looked like someone running and jumping over pits. Although that could really be anything.

First to run over was his sister, Emma. The eight-year-old excitedly flashed a… inspired painting to her older brother. “Avery look! Mama and I were just making these.” She grinned, possibly outshining the sun itself.

The man crouched down to take a careful look at the canvas shoved toward him. His best guess was the family cat. Nonetheless, Avery met his sister in her joy, giving her a pat and rub on the head.

“It looks great, Emma. Keep at it.” His words laced with encouragement. She quickly ran back over to the painting area, apparently there were finishing touches. Avery wandered over to the counter, laying a hand on Gabe’s shoulder to peer closely at the game. Avery was never one for video games. He had played a few on his phone, sure, but usually he occupied himself with other things.

“You winning?” He asked, if for nothing else than conversation.

“You… don’t really win this one.” Gabe tried to explain, although his attention was clearly on doing whatever it was that wasn’t winning. Avery shrugged and snagged an orange from the fruit bowl, gently peeling and slicing it to neat parts and assorting them on a snack-sized plate.

“Mother, I’m heading to a bookstore today. Author’s Attic. Haven’t been there yet.” Avery explained his method and reasoning in a very calm, matter-of-fact way. His speech direct and clear.

“Oh! That’s the one owned by that popular author right?” His mother responded in her usual cheerful fashion.

“What was her name…?” She pushed up her little thin-rimmed glasses in thought. Between the pony tail braided back, the painting overalls, and confused look, she seemed far more a working-class mom than usual. Avery wasn’t about to be fooled on how far from the truth that could be.

“Find out just who it is okay? I'm sure they have lovely stories to share.” Avery was fully aware that his mother wanted more guests for dinner parties. He spoke up again to the not-as-attentive siblings.

“Anyone else want something?” Might as well ask before someone had regrets.

Emma was quick on the draw. “There’s a new book everyone in school has been reading! The Beauty That Remains. Can you get that?”

Gabe gave a delayed, yet simple, “nah.”

The young adult gave himself a quick mental note for the books title. Avery was always find with giving himself tasks like this. They weren’t particularly important or challenging, but they kept him busy. Avery gave confirmation that he’d do just those things and made his way out. The young man was just about to escape the energy of his house. Leaving the door towards the yard, past the garden and pool, and making way to the streets. It’d be easier to take public transport at this time of day.


Part 2 - Author's Attic

Once more, Avery ran down the mental checklist: A novel for Emma, the author's name for mother, and some sort of merchandise for Gabe. Nothing too particular. Avery figured that while he visited this book store he might as well run some errands for the rest of the family.

The young man turned the corner. The Author's Attic. Just what he was looking for. His obsession with reading always brought him to new stores like this, if only out of curiosity. A Sunday afternoon, scorching, Avery brought himself in lighter clothing. Although the wealth behind those clothes was still obvious, with designer shorts, personally tailored shirt, and a flashy wristwatch to match. The more casual wear was pleasant considering the heat - but he also didn't expect work today. The man gently opened the front door, gently stepping in to escape the heat. Avery's sharp, fox-like eyes scanned the room.

The store was abnormally active that afternoon, with people wandering from books to bread one after the other. With Author's Attic having a bakery next door and no wall separating the two businesses, it was inevitable that the door's melodic bell wouldn't reach Elena's ears as she diligently worked at dusting off some books. Once she was satisfied with the overall cleanliness of the area, the twenty-one year old reached down to lift a tall stack of books and carry them up front.

Humming a popular radio tune as she skillfully maneuvered her way through the store with her small field of vision due to years of work, she'd failed to notice the rather tall man standing before her as she walked into him.

"Oof!" The blonde let out as she staggered backwards, balancing both the books and her body as if she were dancing humorously. "Oh, please excuse me. I didn't realize anyone was standing there." Elena apologized sheepishly, doe-brown eyes peering upwards through her wide-rimmed glasses.

After setting the books down on the checkout counter, she turned towards the man and smiled gently, ignoring the growing pain on the left side of her abdomen. "Welcome to Author's Attic," Elena greeted, taking a step back onto the checkout counter since it was a step higher and she felt uncomfortably short next to the customer. "Are you looking for anything specific today, or would you care for a glass of water to combat today's heat?"

The amount of customers brought some surprise to Avery. Or perhaps, it brought some slight discomfort. He was always a fan of quiet and solitude, a commonplace for most libraries and bookstores, so he expected less shoppers wandering around in such busy fashion. He was caught in a daze taking in everything until a sudden bump snapped him back to reality.

His eyes darted to the side where the bump came from, not feeling pain but more of a sharp alertness. The gaze trailed from directly on his side to down, further and further. A woman that stood no taller than his mother was there. Although the stranger and Avery appeared around the same age. Her sudden retort and hospitality elicited a gentle smile from Avery. "... No worries." his speech calm and smooth. He watched her dart towards the checkout, taking time to let the woman situate herself.

"I was actually looking for a few things." Avery began, his speech was quiet and direct. Almost enough to alienate the other noises in the store. "The first being some young adult novel, 'The Beauty That Remains'. Little sister has been practically begging for it." Avery listed that first as he saw it as the most important task on his list. He waited patiently before getting to anything else.

Elena had already pulled up the store's search engine, fingers resting against the keyboard as she awaited the man's response. To her surprise, the title that slid off his tongue was very familiar. "Aha!" The female half sang as she looked at the customer, chocolate eyes sparkling with approval. "I must say your sister has great taste," she began as she disappeared into the tall shelves, only to emerge seconds later with a book in hand.

This time she opted to peer upwards at the brunette as she placed the book on the countertop. Her eyes flickered slightly with a mixture of emotions, both positive and negative, as she waited for his next few words.

"Well, she certainly tries to be well read." Avery commented. There was no doubt in his mind that Emma had picked up many of her habbits and hobbies from him. He didn't mind, however. Reading and painting were good hobbies to have.

Her mixed expression of the eyes had him slightly off-put. Avery was observant enough to spot little details like this, and things like that usually made him uneasy. He hadn't figured he'd done anything wrong just yet. "The next request is a bit odd." Avery started, giving a slight and soft chuckle to the thought. "Mother wanted to know the name of the store owner. They're a well sold author right?"

"No request is ever too odd. The store owner? Oh, you mean Tom. His name is Thomas Green but I don't know of-"

Avery felt a buzz in his pocket, and broke his polite demeanor to check his phone, the culprit of the vibration. With a quick flick of the eyes, Avery read the screen. A slightly troubled expression forming on his face for just a moment before he slid the device away and returned attention back to the woman.

Elena's dark eyes watched the man as his expression morphed ever so slightly. Tilting her head, she looked at him with as much concern as she would've given any other person. "Is everything alright, sir?"

To her concern, Avery returned a polite smile. It was small and kind looking, although maybe slightly forced as to not raise any more concerns. He appreciated the worry at least. "Apologies, I didn't mean to be glaring at my phone mid-conversation." Avery started making himself clear as can be. "I just found out I'd be on a work shift tomorrow with someone I share some disagreements with." With the line of his work, he of course, kept his role vague "You mentioned a Mr. Green?".

Her expression softened as the man spoke, and Elena simple shook her head in understatement. Deciding that changing topics was the best course of action, she clapped her hands together. "Tom! Yes. I don't know of any writing--the old man hardly ever tells me anything--but you can ask him yourself?" After excusing herself, the blonde briefly disappeared into the room behind the counter and ushered a slightly larger fellow with sleep evident on his face.

"Thomas Green. You have customers, why are you sleeping?" Elena hissed quietly as she nudged the older man before quickly offering the customer a smile.

Avery almost wanted to interject, but hey, she was willing to fetch the older man. So he waited patiently. During that brief period, Avery scanned the store behind him. His eyes carefully taking note of everything in the store. Something that caught his attention, horror novels. Avery had been in the mood for something more chilling. As Tom and the employee ushered out, Avery extended a hand.

Thomas quirked an eyebrow at the taller man but happily accepted the handshake. "The name's Thomas Green. What might your name be, lad?"

"Mr. Green, pleasure to meet you. Avery Luciano." His formality keeping present. At this time, Avery was sure to take out some cash to pay for the novel, signalling briefly to the clerk that he was ready to make his purchase.

Elena watched the exchange with modest interest before her attention was snapped back to reality. She let out a quiet "oh" as she hurried her way towards the register and tapped away. After scanning the novel, she read out the total cost and completed the purchase for the man with ease. "Have a nice day, Mr. Luciano." She said as she handed the man his purchase in a simple brown bag.

Avery was quick to hand her the cash. Bills and exact change oddly enough. He gave a small nod of acknowledgement to the clerk. "You too, miss -" he cut himself off, remembering his conversation with Thomas. That, and he never got her name. "I won't waste too much time..."

Avery slid over a small card that he nicked from his wallet. It was blank with nothing more than a phone number. "In short, my mother loves to speak to influential people. I'm sure it'd mean the world to her if you gave a call. She will talk your ear off." Avery warned with some slight humor. After such, he took his bag from the clerk and backed up a step. "I might be back soon. Still want to do some reading myself." Avery gave them both another nod. "Have a pleasant day you two."

Avery Day Action Complete
Written with koala ​

 

[Pilgrim59]

Scarlet Sommerfeld
Arryn's Apartment
August 5th, 2018

Interacted: Lil' Hogan ( MagicPenguin ), open for interaction with anyone else from your perspectives~
Mentioned: shadowz1995 MagicPenguin
​

A New Home​

The void of silence lingered after Arryn's departure, as the vampire retracted her pale hands from the golden silks of her canine companion. A truce was called between her and Hogan, belaying their little frolicking leisure time, as the young lady dragged herself towards her room. She shuts the door behind her and took a brief glance around the simple room. A bookshelf, a bed, a desk and chair occupied the room. It was a blessing, she thought, to be spared from the blazing sun, while the room was much to her liking - a courtesy of Arryn's hospitality. She took off her sunhat and with a quick zip, the vampire shut her window's curtain. Eyeing her new bed, she quickly got to work and tended to the bed sheets.

Her delicate, but firm hands, cast the immaculate folds of fabrics that extended from her fingers, like a sage conjuring a white surge of magic. She straightened out the wrinkles of her bed attentively with a fluid set of movements - a second nature to her. The girl took a quick breath, before unpacking her things. Having attended to her clothings and personal belongings, a distinct set of garment caused her to pause for a brief while, as she studied the holes and tears upon its textiles. A faded green jacket laid out before her hands, as she felt it upon her delicate fingers, while a dose of nostalgia surged throughout her body. Even on the hot summer day, she could still feel the frigid embrace of the Ardennes winds running down her spines. The holes on the jacket were evidence of gunshots and shrapnel, of which was in contrast to that of the graceful girl.

"I wonder if you have settled down after all these years, mein kleines Unterfeldwebel (my little Sergeant)?" Scarlet mumbled to herself softly, and smiled.

Although secretive in her ways, she found no fault in hanging the jacket up. Scarlet had cherished it ever since her departure from Berlin, as if it was her sacred idol. While her time with its previous owner was terse and somewhat coarse in their interactions, the girl had found a sense of familiarity and comfort in its sight. She pondered upon the happier parts of her pasts, while setting her collection of books onto the bookshelf. The vampire hung herself from the ceiling casually, having taken in the knowledge of her solitary confinement, while observing the dereliction that plagued her room. With her quick and decisive course of actions, the eradication of molds and dusts were seen to by her own hands. Having finished her little side quest, Scarlet lifted her chest high, while her hands resided upon her hips - a gesture of her proud achievements in the cleansing of her new room. Even in the little things, Scarlet found comfort and confidence in her hygienic labor. But the vampire have little time to rest, as she picked up on her intrigues of her roommate's behaviors and put on a slight grin. A peculiar scent that sidetracked her thoughts, as she got down on her knees and extended her hand under the bed to find a strand of hair.

Upon her contact, her vampiric instincts took over, as she picked up on its reeking aroma. To many, it was a normal strand of hair, but to a vampire, there was more than meets the eye, pertaining to Scarlet's discovery. Upon closer inspection, she eyed the room with her vigilant eyes, before settling her findings on the desk. A werewolf's hair, she concluded, had somehow appeared within her room. Ever since the collision of their worlds, vampires and werewolves have always been each other's throat. Depictions within the ancient texts and modern fictions were parts of this truth, accompanied by a vampire's keen sense for their arch-nemesis, and vice versa. This was a testament of a common understanding and a shared hatred - the irony of their undying feuds. While she had tried to move on from her past, her premeditated disdains for werewolves in the past only serves to propel her senses towards the truth. It was no coincidence that her intuitions and conceived evidence was by mere chance. She pondered upon her thoughts with a stern look. While it was clear to her of a werewolf's presence within the apartment, she has yet to decipher their origins. The strand of hair was almost otherworldly in its sensation, while its aroma was quite familiar to other werewolves. Another Abnormal living among her and Arryn? A temporary refuge? Or perhaps Arryn would have knowledge of the werewolf's presence? Thoughts ran her by, as she tries to decipher her puzzling discovery.

Exiting her room, Scarlet circled the blank room, as if avoiding light panels, and crept towards the shelves in an espionage-like posture. Before long, a few light taps and a distinctively soft sensation upon her dress threw her off course. Hogan had caught her in the act, as she stumbles upon the shelves, prompting Scarlet to pet him.

"Little Hogan! Aunt Scarlet is embarking upon a very special mission, we'll play at another ti-... " she said, before indulging herself in his soft fur and playful acts.

After a while, Scarlet shook her head and reaffirmed her tasks at hand. She quickly glanced through the books on the shelves and toured the living room. Her green eyes glowed with determination, as she studied the walls and windows. Her thoughts eventually transpired into her usual hygienic habit, as she proceeds to tie her hair and got to cleaning. Despite being a subjective individual, Scarlet has found herself as the victim of habitual tendencies. The fall of one of the most powerful vampire was not physical wounds, but rather her disdains and contempt for molds and dust. Scarlet unsheathed her broom, and launched into action, sweeping the room with energy, before setting her sights on the bathroom. Before long, the vampire stood triumphantly at the bright and spotless apartment, albeit at the cost of her quest to discover Arryn's secrets. As the clock strikes, Scarlet's astute hearing prompted her to make haste. It was her second day at work, and she had reasoned with herself to be punctual and diligent - mostly out of pressure to pay for her rents.

Although Scarlet have had medical experiences in the past, she had chosen to work as a janitor to keep herself among the crowd, without raising any unforeseen complications that would put her in the spotlight. It was a chance to humble herself before others, as well as giving her what she preferred the most - distance. But Scarlet did not lie about her degree, as she have yet to apply for medical school. Her personal degree from 1960 would definitely raise a few eyebrows, even as far as putting her in danger. Choices were non-existent, Scarlet thought, as she puts on her uniform and made ready for her leave. She waved at Hogan on her way out and departed, while thinking about her cozy, yet mysterious new home. Braving the hot sun, Scarlet squinted her eyes and held firmly onto her hat, as she paced herself quickly towards the shades. She took refuge in the cool shadows of the bus stop, hoping to be delivered from the tortures of the reprimanding sun.

[Day-time Activity Completed]​

 

[Mqueserasera]

Ginny Grey
Cozy Cat's Cave Coffee Shop​

It’s early in the morning, the sun and its scorching hot rays were ready to prey on the residents of London, the people who make an enemy of the weather year round. In a small coffee shop named Cozy Cat’s Cave, the day’s activities had already begun. The cute little shop’s interior gave off the impression that it was once an ordinary run of the mill one, but its owner had dressed up the place slowly through the years to the point of extreme with their heavy taste in pillows, cat-related furniture and frills, my god, there were frills everywhere! Cats wander in great number, some belong to the shop owner and some the customers’. All over the place are old sofas by dozens of little round tables, the sofas in worn-out color were clearly older than the cats lying on them, but still perfectly clean with a faint soapy smell, and usable, just like everything else about this shop. It might not be anyone’s cup of tea, but surely a pleasant change from the hectic world outside. Even the unbearable heat couldn’t make its way inside, thanks to the many air conditioners running tirelessly.

Sitting beside the counter, on a flower patterned armchair, was the owner of Cozy Cat’s Cave. She’s a little old lady, dressed in simple attire, which, just like her manner and attitude, declared loudly to the world that she was indeed a little old lady. Mary Henderson was brushing a cat on her laps, when she took a glance at behind the counter then exclaimed loudly, “There! You just did that again!”, with a mixture of anger and wonder in her voice.

From behind the counter, a girl poked her head out sheepishly, wearing the expression of someone being caught red-handed in the middle of a shameful act. She was a small girl, even smaller than the old Mary, stood little over 5 feet in height, her hair was pretty short, with a lively and boyish overall appearance. “What? No, I didn’t do nothing!”, she defended herself, while quickly putting the jar filled with coffee beans down.

“Yeah? I saw it, I saw it clearly as I see my bloody nose! You keep smelling the ingredients again and again!” Old Mary hissed back “My lord in heaven! Ginny, I know you didn’t touch them or anything, but that’s no way a good sane kid would behave!”

Sighing, the girl named Ginny returned the jar to its place on the shelf and back to working with the coffee grinder, a bit annoyed, while doing her work with practised and flawless movements, “If it causes no harm then there’s no harm. Sweating the details is no good for your health you know?”. Before the old lady could begin her sharp comeback, their first customer of the day had pushed the door open. Ginny reached to an apron hanging on the wall near the counter and put it on, the apron was old, clean and had a soapy smell as expected; then followed the customer lady to her table.

The middle age lady wore the biggest smile Ginny had ever seen, which startled her. “A capu…cappuccino, you say?” Said Ginny, slowly and carefully “A… kind of coffee yeah?”. And the big smile lady nodded and gave her an even bigger and warmer smile, to which Ginny quickly turned around and fled to the counter.
“Mrs Henderson, she wants a cappuccino.” She reported back and stood by waiting for an order.

“Then give the woman her bloody cappuccino, what are you standing there for.” Old Mary said without looking up from her precious pet.
“Well” Ginny now leaned on the counter, waiting patiently, then motioned her hand at the customer’s general direction “Come on now. The customer is waiting.”

Few seconds went by and old Mary finally raised her head to see her employee was still standing in one place. “Bah, you little…”, the lady caught herself before the curse word could come out “Whatever should I do with you… Alright, Cappuccino tastes creamy, warm, smooth… there should be some sweetness to it too, and foam on top, the lingering flavor is a must. Don’t use the cup in the back, I haven’t washed them yet.”

“Neat!” Ginny merrily launched herself into the working mode, “And I’ve already washed them all this morning, no worry.” Having said that, the little girl lower herself toward the counter and… sniffed around. With a got it, she scrambled to gather the ingredients.

Mrs Mary watched as the little girl finishing her job, way too good for someone who didn’t know the name of what she had just made. The girl was weird alright, but she got the job done with a perfectly good attitude. When Ginny returned after delivering the coffee cup, massaging her face, she had nearly displaced her jaw trying to match her customer’s smile, Mary was brushing the cat just like before.

“You know memorizing the recipe is easier than sniffing around right?” The shop’s owner commented.
“It’s just my way. When you keep developing new drinks, remembering the taste and effects of the ingredients is more efficient. I asked you before, just let me come up with some new menus, you’ll be surprised.” Said Ginny, having settled in her spot behind the counter, now had nothing to do besides sitting there being bored.

“There’s no way I can trust you to do that.” Said Mary, keep brushing the cat while launching into her rant mode effortlessly as if one of the two activities was directed by her base instinct. “Kids these days, I tell you, just like you they think they know everything by wandering the street, what they say? ‘Street smart’, Ha! as if those words can form a meaningful one. What kind of smart could be gained from stalking the street at night, drinking more alcohol than they do water, wiggling around in bars and clubs like monkeys on a frying pan? I tell you, my dear, we used to dance to, back in my days, but with grace! But you kids think you know everything, running around then hit it off with some good-for-nothing boy, then your life’s basically over. Set yourself straight if you want to find a decent boy, a decent life.”

The old lady shook her head disapprovingly, the cat on her laps was too fat and lazy to escape from the angry woman. Suddenly her mood got brighter when she looked at Ginny and said mischievously “Considerer that carefully, aren’t you looking for a prince?”

“What…?” Ginny startled, confused and then her face blushed red.

“Ha, I heard you talking on the phone with your friend last night.” One of the downsides of sharing a house with another person. Though Ginny was in no position to choose otherwise, this woman was kind enough to let her live in the old room of her daughter who had moved out, and a job with minimum wage. At first, Ginny thought the only reason was Mary’s loneliness, without realizing that she was going to do half of the house chores on top of taking care of the coffee shop.

“You….” Ginny used all of her willpower to hold her anger in, no easy feat, but she somehow managed to do it “Forget it, you said something about some bars and clubs, is there anywhere like that nearby I can waste my first month’s salary like a good sane kid?”

And she was fully intended to do so, what is life without having some fun?

(Ginny Daytime Complete)

 

[koala]

Morgana | Megan Nikravesh
Date: Sunday, August 8th
Location: Marbles' B&B
Mentions: Tannur, Lisa
Interactions: Juniper Shotgunpenguin

Marble's B&B was as busy as ever. Even if people hadn't spent the night, there was always a flood of people in the morning. The traditional breakfast dishes were apparently some of the best tasting in London, so customers came from all around to enjoy a plate of English goodness. It honestly surprised Morgana each time she stepped into the dining area to see people munching away. There was really nothing special about Garrett's cooking, but perhaps she'd gotten so used to it that it didn't phase her anymore.

"Miss. Miss. Excuse me, miss?"

Morgana blinked as a little girl was tugging on her white apron. A couple seconds passed before she actually realized she was being called for, to which responded with a trained smile and hospitable tone. "Yes, how may I help you, little one?"

The little girl smiled widely at finally being acknowledged, revealing two missing front teeth. A faint, warm feeling filled the banshee briefly before it was washed away by the child's next question.

"Mum and Dad aren't ready yet, but they said I could go ahead and eat since I'm hungry. Can I have toast and jam?"

Then it happened again, except it was automatic and not something Morgana practiced in front of the mirror time and time again. She actually smiled, of course, she hadn't noticed it until Garrett came dancing from the kitchen and pointed it out.

"Aye, there Megan!" He laughed teasingly, holding a plate of fresh toast and jam. It was like he was a robot sometimes because he prepared things so quickly and had the ears of an eagle. "Better be careful or that smile of yours will blind all these lonely boys in the building!"
Garrett sat the plate down on a nearby table and lifted the girl so she could eat comfortable. "Here you go, Lila. Haven't seen you in months. Glad you and your family decided to visit me before the summer is over."

Lila, the little girl, only giggled and attacked her plate of food while Morgana stared at the man baffled. Her cheeks were somewhat warm but not enough to bleed through her tan skin. The woman had only experienced such treatment by a certain Dark Sider, but she'd never had a reaction like currently. Was it because she didn't have her runes? Were her human emotions beginning to emerge?

Deciding that changing the subject to clear her mind of any confusion, Morgana spoke up. "Garrett, do you remember me informing you of the modeling job? I will have to leave work an hour earlier from now on so I can travel to it. Is that alright?"

Garrett paused and placed a fist under his chin as if deep in thought. "No," he stated bluntly before chuckling. "Yes, Megan. That's fine, as long as you become a famous model so you can promote my business."

With the shake of her head, she simply walked towards the kitchen and removed her apron. After gathering her things, the tall brunette headed out towards her next job, but not before a soft vibration from her back pocket caught her attention.

"Hello? Jupiter?"

"Hey Morgana," the woman on the other end of the phone seemed out of breath as she spoke "I-Jupiter? Never mind, I wanted to know if we could meet up somewhere to talk. It's been a week since the incident and I haven't heard anything from the others. Are you free later?"

"Yes, I was planning on getting in contact with you soon. Lucre- Lisa has yet to bring up the matter, but I presumed we should at least get together. I get out of my second job around 7 o'clock this evening. Does that time work with you?" Morgana's tone fluctated awkwardly throughout the entire conversation as she attempted to mask her obvious Aetherian speech with modern English. It was almost laughable really and she hoped Jupiter didn't take notice.

"Yes, I should be done with my route before then. Hopefully I sh-" She was cut off by the sound of rushing air and a loud car horn. "A CURSE ON YOU AND YOUR FAMILY!" There was a deep breath and muffled curses before she continued "Should be done before then. Pick a place and I will meet you there."

Morgana moved the phone away from her ear as her face contorted slightly. She raised an eyebrow as she pulled it back but didn't question Juniper's sudden outburst. It wasn't like she actually cared anyways.

"Okay," she stated simply. "I'll message you soon."

Written with Shotgunpenguin

Morgana's Day Activity: COMPLETE​

 

[Larry]

Ludwig von Löwenburg
Location: Ludwig's bedroom, 8:45, Sunday, 5th August.
Mood: Drowsy.
Mentions; peachuu .​

Is there anything better than warmth one feels as they lay in bed in the morning? Ludwig contemplated this very notion as he tossed and turned, drawing the duvet around his figure so as to ensconce himself within a embroidered cocoon, and the young Englishman felt nothing but pleasure for indulging in this sweet embrace for the next thirteen seconds. Promptly enough, the young man launched himself out from underneath the blanket onto the cold floor beneath, the tingling sensation vitalising him to an extent; Ludwig had always been more receptive to cold than the heat, most likely due to the fact that he once suffered a heat stroke on holidays in the Canary Islands when he was eleven-years old. Even if it was somewhat menial in the grand course of a normal day, the young man loved to come and find a bed neatly made and folded. Having finished this task within under a minute (Ludwig nearly times himself to see how quick he can do it), within one swift movement the young man pulled the curtains apart and the small room became draped in luminous, one would say nearly holy light. The sudden exposure to such brightness caused the young man to wince slightly as his eyes adjusted. Shortly after, the young man quickly get dressed into loose-fitting classic jeans, some Nike runners alongside a navy-blue polo shirt; it was warm today, which he lamented, so there was no need for for any coat or jacket of any kind. Placing his bag over one shoulder and opening the door in one quick motion, Ludwig descends down the stairs.

A familiar silence greeted the young lad as he made his way into the kitchen, as his parents more often that not would be out extremely early in the morning; they industrious and hard-working people, a trait which Ludwig has expressed on many occasions how glad he was to inherit it. Even though it was a Sunday, both had some projects going in their own respective workplaces that was pre-occupying their work and home lives for the past few weeks but Ludwig didn't mind. Placing three Weetabix biscuits into a bowl and thusly lathering them with whole-fat milk, he takes approximately six bites to finish his cereal and promptly dashes over to the sink to wash the residual crumbs left by the biscuits. People who don't wash out their bowls after having Weetabix are the most diseased people on this planet, Ludwig thought to himself as he scrubbed the bowl clean with a well-seasoned sponge before going to peel and promptly devour a banana in record time. Foregoing the notion of having to consume toast and tea, the young promtply dashed down the stairs, readied the house alarm and left the premises with gumption in his step.

Sunday was a lovely day to relax, even more so when you've been to the vigil Mass the night before. His history has engendered a great love and respect for this Catholic heritage from both sides of the family and though he was still between two minds as regards to pressing theological questions, the quiet, solemn atmosphere of the Mass always a relaxation nowhere else on this Earth could allow. As the young man walked upon the footpath, the crowds of people just seemed to keep on congregating the sooner you got into Kilburn proper. Whether this was a perception common to most city-dwellers or a very small minority of that aforementioned group, Ludwig has found it extremely simple to simply avoid eye-contact of any kind with a person and likewise pay no attention to their character unless they somehow obstruct him in the course of his walking. Though there were sizeable crowds roaming around that the Irish would call 'dubh le daoine', Ludwig was able to manoeuvre between them like Messi during a good game against Villareal.

Some of these people I tell you, Ludwig inwardly complained, slightly annoyed at the apparent lack of awareness people have when they nearly walk into you, I could knock some of these fools over just by standing still. People walking around with their phones, headphones in, mothers not paying to children in a cot if they're sitting down, the young man could complain and comment about every little thing that comes into his cone of vision, another aspect of his character that he wishes he could rectify though as his grandfather on his mother's side would do very much the same, the resulting laughs were well worth the criticism from family members.

Having found his way to the familiar site of the library doors automatically opening his encroaching proximity, Ludwig promptly stepped inside to relieve himself from heat that would split the stones outside. He greeted the librarian, Mary, a lady in her late thirties/ early forties with a candid smile, as she was one of the few people that he felt he could be himself around and promptly stepped upstairs to find a spot to read THE primary source regarding the life of Charlemagne, or as the Germans would call him, Karl the Great. The biography was written by a man called Einhard, a distinguished scholar and courtier of the first Holy Roman Emperor in all but name and is considered to be the most important source of knowledge about the man who would one day be given the title, "Father of Europe". As he finally ascended the stairs, Ludwig's eyes were attracted to a familiar face from his class though that was in the only manner in which the two were familiar. Her name was Quinn Aiko Rundquist and besides having a name that would look stunningly in-place within a fantasy novel, her personality could only be considered the antithesis to the young man's rather reserved nature and she wouldn't necessarily be a person that he would be too willing to strike up a conversation. Having seen enough, the young man found a table where his fellow 'historian-in-training' was out of sight and thus began reading the tales of a man who would change Europe forever.

[Daytime Activity: Complete.]​

 

[IG42]

Clair Drayden

Sun beat down on the rolling hills below. Heat rose under her wings bearing her higher above the land. Unfettered by any force in heaven or earth she let out a thunderous roar for the sheer joy of it and shot a gout of flame that set a wildfire racing through the grasses just because she could, after all what could possibly stop her? Nothing except...the alarm.

Opening her eyes Clair held up a hand before her eyes as if to confirm that it was a human hand and not a massive talon, sighing she let her arm fall and silenced the alarm with a couple of words. "It happened again." The dream was one that she'd had every so often ever since she had started learning about her abilities but this was the eighth time in the last month, either it was just a coincidence or something had her dragon blood stirring.

Getting up she crossed the spacious apartment to the window and looked down at the city below, following the course of the Thames with her eyes her gaze fell on Covent Garden, something strange had happened down there and surely someone with supernatural powers like her had been involved. Stepping into the bathroom she showered with the water at it's usual temperature which was hot enough to scald the average human in seconds, within the swirling steam she smiled to herself. Today should provide a good chance to see it for myself.

A couple of hours later Clair stood behind a table in the square outside the St Paul's church in Covent Garden helping to hand out large bottles of water to the people there, a simple way to help but an important one considering what the flooding had done to the water supply and the summer heat being magnified by the miles of concrete and massive glass edifices. The authorities had done a lot but where they fell short she helped to fill in the gaps.

Listening in to the chatter of the people displaced by the oddly specific damage within the district she got the same impression that the news and social media chatter had given her, no one really seemed to know what had happened. When she managed to get away for a minute she wandered over to an area inside the market that had been cordoned off by the police, a patch of the floor had a small crater in it and nearby windows were shattered like a bomb had gone off but even the people who remembered taking shelter in the building had no idea how it had got there, still something about the crater seemed off to her and she stared at it for another minute before shaking it off and getting back to work.

Clair day complete

 

[peachuu]

Quinn Aiko Rundquist
mentions: Larry | location: local library | purpose: studying​

”Stay...Stay...Amelia...” The sound of an indie alternative rang through the dim sunlit dorm room, stirring up all living—and to an extent—non-living creatures. Curiosity figuratively, and literally, stretched out it’s legs for the day and yawned, smacking it’s cat mouth until content. The cat then roamed around the bed it laid on until it met the tangled hungerover of a mess, Ms. Aiko. Curiosity pawed at it’s owner, almost hissing for her to wake up and to turn off that bloody nonsense.

“Aye love leave mum alone...” she grumbled, flailing a heavy arm at the feline, to which they responded with a small scratch on the hand. Quinn hissed back at her cat, finally peering her head above the cocoon of covers she made. Her head slowly rose with her body, and she grabbed her phone from her bedside to immediately shut it up. She was extremely too hung over for her own good to remember what happened last night—In fact, all she knows is that she was reviewing her thesis for how the Renaissance came to be. She inhaled sharply after taking another step, the room spinning just a tiny bit but enough to make her head pound. She looked at her desk to see if there were any notes, but sadly she forgot to write any of them down. “Shit...Bloody hell, Adira!” With that notion a doll popped out of a vintage box that sat nestled between piles of papers and books. “Adira what in living hell happened last night?” The doll proceeded to glare at the woman as if speaking to her, and she became horrified with what she “heard.” What actually happened was, Quinn managed to transfer whatever data the doll saw last night and collected.

Last night however, was compiled of images of Quinn madly blabbering about the endless possibilities of the Renaissance and how it was an inner working of social justice warriors who were poets at heart and wanted more for themselves secretly. She looked absolutely deranged with a whole bottle of Jack Daniels and a huge grin on her flushed face. Aiko couldn’t believe herself; frankly she felt embarassed where she started to squeal at how stupid she had been. Curiosity started to question the woman’s antics as she paced the room flustered.

Yes this is entirely Quinn when she’s alone.

Aiko had too much to do today now that there was way too much information to retain at this point. “Okay gang, here’s the plan!” Although she wasn’t a blonde wearing a necktie, she did have outline for the day. “We are going on a quest for Europe’s earliest history taking place before the Renaissance, so I can prove my theory more...” she paused, pulling out an outfit consisting of a striped long sleeve and fitted jeans. “Because I don't bloody think ramblings of me drunk are notable enough.” She quickly got dressed, gathering her things in her infamous yellow backpack, then proceeded to go to her mini market of a fridge, and pulled out a Greek yogurt and a granola bar. Curiosity jumped into the backpack, as the librarian was accustomed to her shenanigans, and Adira retreated back to her box; a slit carved out so the doll could see her surroundings. “All set?” Quinn lugged the bag over her shoulder, grabbed her keepsake box (it has a strap to lug over her shoulder) and left the dorm. She signed out of the dormitory as it was protocol, and made her way across to the library.

It was extremely hot out today and clearly her yogurt needed to be eaten first before it got too sour to eat. She munched on her “breakfast”, about done making her way towards the library. Curiosity remained inside the bag peering only slightly at the outside world, as Quinn greeted the librarian with a submissive wave and a lopsided grin. She settled down at her usual table—right by a large window but shaded by surrounding bookshelves and began scribbling the mess of notes from last night’s rambles.

——————

A few hours later, she peered up from cowering in her books, and noticed a familiar figure walking in. Her head raised even more as she questioned where the hell she could have possibly seen him before. ”Oh shit, right, he’s that nerd from class. The hell is he doing here?” She dismissed the thought for a second, until Adira started rattling slightly in her box. It was loud enough to cause a few people to turn towards Quinn, and she gave the a scowl saying ”The fuck you looking at?” The heads immediantly turned away and Quinns eyes peered into the box, squinting to the maximum in anger. “What are you doing??” She whispered, and the doll shifted to box towards the direction of the now disappeared classmate. She had a quiet whisper war with the doll until she had given up and evidently obliged to her odd request. Aiko was never one to going up to people she wasn’t particularly interested in, but she had nothing to lose so no harm done, right? She sighed, grumbled and lugged the box’s strap over her shoulder. Quinn excused herself and proceeded to hide among the bookshelves, thus placing the doll on the ground close enough to where the individual was residing, but not enough to where he could see. Since she was also in the History section, she took the time to look for books that may help her with her studies as it also makes her look less suspisious. The doll proceeded to waddle it’s porcelain legs towards the lad, knocking into the table leg instead. “Oh boy here we go...”

DAY COMPLETE

 

[The_Omega_Effect]

Nikolai Vissarionovich
Location: Ash and Niko's Apartment -> Work
Interactions: Deadly Malice

The piercing sound of the alarm Nikolai had set on his phone months ago to play every morning had woken him up yet again. Although the brief feeling of regret from him not sleeping on time the day before was just as much a part of his routine as eating breakfast, he could never be bothered to follow through with it and adjust his sleeping cycle. Removing the charging plug from his phone, he turned off the alarm, opening the window to get some fresh air before going to the bathroom in order to brush his teeth. On his way there he saw that the kettle was already set to boil. Ash was already awake it seemed. Nikolai appreciated him as he helped him get a job and a place to stay when he was desperate from being forced to flee. Despite that though, he did not always appreciate just how much his roommate took care of him in terms of cooking food and other day-to-day things. But he was in no position to complain.

After being done, Nikolai retreated back into his room in order to get changed for work. While doing so, he heard a quick knock on his door from his flatmate. He didn't have to respond however. It was just his way of reminding him to prepare for work quickly. After packing somethings in his backpack and leaving it near the door for quick pick up, he went to the kitchen for some tea and breakfast. The kettle was done boiling the water, with Ash making what smelled and sounded like the typical bacon and eggs combo. Grabbing a mug and a teabag, Niko made himself some quick tea before turning to his roommate to ask a question that was on his mind for a while.

From under his breath, Niko uttered "Have you been keeping up to date with the Covent Garden thing?". He was usually not the one to instigate conversations but he wanted to know a different perspective on what happened with this specific event. The second he was turned into a werewolf, he was introduced to an extra dimension of sorts of the world that lurked under the shadows. Magical beings were real, with him being one of them. The Covent Garden was a clear case of there existing more supernatural beings. He doubted himself however, with him thinking that his mind automatically came to this conclusion purely due to the fact that he wanted it to be that way. Ash was no ordinary person by far. But the perspective of a person who he assumed to be somewhat normal would help him evaluate things more clearly.

"I haven't been paying much attention, though it seems kinda bizarre right? Freak storm and absolute devastation of a shopping centre."

"Yeah...A little unclear though...What do you think actually happened? Terrorist attack?"

"Wouldn't be surprised if the storm and destruction are connected. I'm more worried about where I'm going to get more Rubix cubes. That place always had the best toys."

Nikolai scoffed briefly at the joke that he had made, with him returning to sipping his tea. "I'm pretty much ready to go. Not feeling hungry enough for breakfast. I'll be in my room for a bit. We can leave immediately after you're done eating."

"Awwww, but I made you some bacon."

He slowly approached Ash and looked at the pan of food before looking him in the eyes again. After a brief moment of silence between the two, with the only audible sounds being the sizzling of the eggs and bacon, Nikolai took a strip of bacon straight out of the pan and dropped it into his mouth, chewing it and going to his room. He had quite a weird sense of humour, in that he said or did things that were intended as jokes with him never laughing. A full smile from him was a rare sight on its own. Grabbing that bacon straight from the pan and eating it burned both his hand and his mouth a bit. However, the increased durability he received from his powers that was enough to eat really hot food and enjoy hot drinks with, was a perk of being a werewolf...the only perk.

"You think that makes you look hot but it only makes you look like a dumbass, dumbass." Ash stuck his tongue out to show his words had no real weight behind them.

Niko paid little mind to the response he received, with him going back into his room. Once inside, he walked up to the window, intending on closing it after taking one more breath of clear air. He was super paranoid about somebody climbing in through the window, despite it making little to no sense with the floor that they were on. Regardless, with his new discovery of magic, he wanted to be more cautious than ever. He spent the extra minute of time he got to make his bed, reorganize his backpack's contents and better prepare for work. He also wore a cap and a face mask. He secretly knew that they wouldn't reduce the contagiousness of his the werewolf curse at all but wearing it and generally covering himself up made him feel safer.

Once they were ready, he emerged from the room with his backpack, locking the door behind him, then waiting at the main door of the apartment for Ash to leave before locking that too. Niko walked to the bus stop, listening to music through his headphones and paying little attention to the person he was walking with. He couldn't think of what to talk about and he preferred to get lost in thought with a melody of sorts playing in his ear. The one thing that popped into his mind was the next full moon. Procrastinating on organizing such a thing would lead to disastrous consequences for him as rushing it meant that he could make mistakes, leaving a trace. The worse part was that the weather would change as the season was shifting from summer to autumn, meaning that he couldn't just repeat the process from the previous full moon. But that also meant that the colder weather would lead to fewer people outside, therefore less possible witnesses...or victims. He would also have to tell Ash about it eventually. But that would be after he made necessary preparations.

At the stop, he gave Ash one look to make sure he was coming along before getting on. He found 2 empty seats and grabbed one on the window side, placing his backpack on his lap and daydreaming yet again for the rest of the journey. Ash hadn't been kidding before about the Rubix cube, he usually had two or three lying about his room and this morning he had decided to bring one with him. Despite his eyes being locked to the cube, he manoeuvred himself on the bus, sitting beside Niko while he fiddled with the cube.

Niko gently tapped Ash's shoulder with the back of his hand when they were closing in on their destination, with them leaving the bus to get to work.

Nikolai's day activity complete​

 

[WillfulWren]

Silver Ferae - Park / Work
Written with MagicPenguin
​

All those nests, destroyed...
All those dead chicks...
Silver frowned, looking around for the unfamiliar voices speaking about chicks and nests - bird things. That was always interesting. The voices seemed warbly and high-pitched, wavering slightly.

It was their own fault - they should have built somewhere more sheltered. The rain swept the chicks away, and they deserved it. Bad building, that's what I say. Especially in that alder tree. The nest was way too low. That came from directly above her, and when the ex-ShapeShifter looked up, it was to see a plump pigeon with white speckled wings looking down at her from a tree branch. Silver tilted her head - talking birds weren't an ordinary occurrence now she was human. The pigeon with white speckled wings mirrored the action, head cocked to the side.

Ooh, look at this! Freaky eyes on this one. Like that white pigeon that got hit by a car last week - spooky red eyes.
Silver frowned, one hand going up to push an imaginary strand of hair away from her ruby coloured eyes. "Freaky...?" She repeated to herself.

Sure, her eyes were very noticeable- punks who came into the tattoo parlour often congratulated her on her 'cool contacts', how spooky or real they looked - they 'couldn't even see the lens rim!', whatever that meant.

But what did a bird know? She glared at the pigeon with white speckled wings as more pigeons clustered on the tree branch, all giving her the same look... She ignored their cooing and headed along her way to work, somehow only being a few minutes late.

Jim was trying to explain something to her - the word machine was mentioned multiple times - while she perched on the tall chair behind the counter, idly sketching the white speckled pigeon being impaled on spikes when the bell above the parlour door chimed, the door swinging open to admit a very winded and very red-faced hero of Light.

"I'm here," Roland panted as the door shut behind him. "Sorry I'm late," he got out between gasps, "but I ran into a girl about to get hit by a car and I had to do something and...well, at least I still managed to get here before Si-"

His eyes fell on Silver and narrowed as the girl smiled and waved as if they were old friends. Jim looked about ready to explode.

"Aw, hell," Roland muttered.

"So," Jim started, face already started to turn red. "This.. This excuse shit is what I expect from her." He pointed at Silver, who looked as smug as a cat who had just watched an entire truck of cream crash and spill it's cargo all over the street at watching Roland get reprimanded. But she frowned as she realised that she was getting dragged into it too.

"B-but, it's only just this once and I had a good--" Roland attempted, before Silver cut him off.

"I dont make excuses! Everything -" She protested a little before Jim cut her off.

"Shut up Silver. Ron, just make yourself fucking useful. Clean the machines." Turning away, with a very audible mutter of "How did I end up with such fucking useless apprentices?"

Speaking of fucking useless, Silver hopped down from the seat, getting close enough to Roland to inform him - without Jim hearing her - that
"The birds have started to talk."

Roland looked at Jim's retreating back warily as he moved over to the counter with the tattoo guns. "Oh they have, have they," he asked her somewhat absently, distracted as he was with avoiding Jim's baleful glare and performing his task.

"Yeah! They were like... Talking about the birds nest that used to be in the alder tree, before it was washed away and all the chicks died, and then one of them said I have freaky eyes..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

"Do you think my eyes are freaky?"

"I think all of you is freaky," he replied as he delicately brushed and scrubbed at the machinery in his hand.

"Hmph. Well, if red eyes are freaky, then... Then red hair is even freakier! And stupid, just like you are."

Abruptly, he stopped and finally looked directly at her. "Wait a minute. That happened to you just this morning? How long have you been talking to birds?"

"Uh, yeah, it started this morning. I go through the park every day and I've never heard those voices before... Why? Have you heard them?"

"No," he answered, but he rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he did, contemplating something.

"HEY," Jim roared from behind the counter. "I'm not paying you idiots to sit around and fucking chatter all day. Silver, I want ten designs by the time you leave today or I swear you aren't getting paid this week. It's the only thing you're good for, so hop fucking to! And by all that's holy, DON'T FUCKING BREAK ANYTHING! Ron, quit grinning like an idiot. For the love of Christ, stop encouraging her, she's bad enough without having someone to talk to."

"Yessir," Roland replied quickly, mischievous grin gone as if it were never there in the first place.

"Actually," Jim went on, "Since you don't seem to mind coming in late, Ron, you can stay late today too. I'll need fifteen good designs from you, and the bathroom needs a good scrubbing in the back. Hasn't had one in months."

Roland sputtered. "Wha-...bu-...that's not fair! I'm your employee, not your slave! You can't treat me like--"

"Those nice tattoos of yours still aren't paid off, are they, Ron," Jim asked uncharacteristically sweetly. "If you don't want to work here, you can always walk out, but if you do I might have to make a few calls to see if I can't get the money back some other way."

Roland's knuckles went white around the gun in his hand. "Grrr...Fine," he growled through clenched teeth. He went back to cleaning, muttering under his breath about a "fat, tomato-faced, tyrannical son of a dwarf."

"Good," Jim replied, satisfied.

Silver had slipped out of Jim's line of sight the second he had started yelling, going back to the chair that should have held a cashier, but instead held a lazy albino who had gone back to her sketchbook, flipping to a new page to start sketching out a unicorn entangled in rose vines, the thorns leaving streaks of red on the pure white coat.

Silver Ferae / Day Activity: COMPLETE​

 

[Avari]

WEATHER: CLOUDY | HUMID
UPCOMING EVENTS: NONE
NEXT FULL MOON: 28TH AUGUST​

NOTES
Character activity chart now available on page 1 of the OOC!
Posting deadline is the 7th Jan


​

 

[MagicPenguin]

Spoiler: Dream Journal Excerpt

In this Dream, I am tending a garden. There are flowers of every variety, shape, and color. Some of the flowers are average and typical, but some of them are special flowers: some of the special ones are from another country and struggle to survive in this foreign environment while others are hybrids between the foreign flowers and the regular ones. Foreign or hybrid, they all have struggled to survive in the unfamiliar habitat of my garden, but against all odds, they have planted their roots and continue to survive. I am very proud of them all.

I prick my finger on one of the flower's thorns and begin to bleed. I cry out and suck on the wounded finger. My father hears my cry and now he is behind me with a determined looking silver fox at his side. Papa is very angry I got hurt. If it had not been for those flowers, he screams, I would not have gotten hurt. It is not the flowers' fault, I tell him, but he is furious and refuses to listen. He points and the determined silver fox at his side pounces into the garden and rips all of my special flowers out of the ground with a vicious growl. I cry and cry and try to save them, but they are all already torn to pieces, dug up and worn to shreds by the fox's tenacity. This Dream makes me feel very sad.

Excerpt from Samantha Fletcher's Dream Journal, written age 6

Samantha Fletcher
Public Library -> Deli

Hidden away in a dusty little corner of the public library's fifth floor, Samantha sat at a small cubby between book shelves, reading her most recent find, a fantasy tale about elves and dragons and magic. She couldn't get away from dragons today, it seemed. The fifth floor, like all the other floors, was packed to the brim with bookshelves. Unlike the other floors, the books on this floor were non-fiction works from the years 1600-1899, on every topic from government, to the ancient history of Africa, to philosophical treaties by long dead writers to any other obscure topic one could possibly want to know about. To say the least, it was all very dry reading, which meant there were very, very few people browsing this particular section at any given time. Usually no one at all. That made it the perfect little hiding spot as far as Sam was concerned, somewhere no one would ever think to look for her. She came here often during the school year for a place to study and during the Summer it became simply a place to be by herself and read or write. After what she saw that morning, she certainly cherished her solitude today.

When she first got here, she was still jittery thinking about it. She recorded her Dream from the night before and tried to put it out of her mind by reading her book or playing a game on her phone, but the dragon-man kept finding his way back into her thoughts no matter how she tried to distract herself. Saving someone who was prophesied to die should have been impossible, but he'd done it. She'd never seen a viewing above someone's head just...shatter...the way that skull had. What did it mean? Were there other viewings that could be changed the same way? If he could do it, did that mean she could as well? Eventually, she'd started going back through the entries in her Dream journal, looking for Dreams she was sure had not yet come to pass and whose outcomes she did not like. This was harder than it sounded, because the Dreams themselves were often so vague in meaning it was nearly impossible to tell what in the real world they were referring to. She settled on one of the excerpts from the beginning, about flowers in a garden being eaten by a fox. She was sure this one was bad. If it came true--when it came true, she once would have thought--it would be a tragedy on an epic scale. Maybe if she could figure out what it meant, she could stop it from happening the same way the dragon-man stopped that girl from dying. It seemed a slim hope, but how could Sam not at least make the effort after what she'd witnessed? Who knew how much misery she could prevent if she were successful? Then again, it wasn't like she hadn't tried something like this in the past--how much misery could she inadvertently create in the likely event that she failed?

Of course, figuring out exactly what it predicted was the first challenge. The flowers were something that needed to be protected and the fox was dangerous, but beyond that, she had no idea what they might actually be. Even she herself--the Samantha Fletcher in the Dream--might not literally represent her, and the same was true of her father. In fact, if she was sure of nothing else, she was sure the Papa in the dream represented something or someone else--Papa was a calm, kind, and gentle man and, though she'd seen him upset from time to time, he never got so angry that he screamed or threatened to hurt someone. She might even represent a larger group of people, like the people of a country or a society, while her father might represent the police or a governing body or...

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and saw she had a text from Papa, asking when she'd be home and if she could pick up some milk on her way back. She took note of the time on the phone's face: 7:38 PM. She looked out the window in surprise and saw the sun was indeed much lower in the sky than when she'd sat down. She'd spent nearly 8 hours here reading and writing and thinking, but it felt like much less. With a sigh, Sam closed her journal and her book and put them in her bag before rising to leave.

On the way back, she stopped at a deli not too far from the library she left, a little corner store she hadn't often had the need to go inside unless her father sent her on an errand as he had tonight. Inside, she grabbed a gallon of milk from the back and took her place in what she thought was a surprisingly long queue for such a small store. She saw a viewing or two above the heads of some of the customers, but that wasn't uncommon in a group of this size, so she didn't pay the images too much mind. There was a woman with her little boy buying eggs, a man in a brown trench coat, a girl of middle school years (yet still taller than Sam, she noted sourly) walking her little dog, a red-cheeked fellow who looked no older than Sam pointing his phone at the long-haired man behind the counter with a smitten look on his face...

Sam nearly yelped when she glanced at the man who was the subject of the man's cell phone recording. It was a good thing she did not drop her gallon of milk. For the second time that day, she found a man with more viewings swirling about his head than she'd ever seen a person have. Like with the dragon-man earlier, there were more than she could count, moving so fast she could hardly make any of them out. The man himself didn't seem particularly special, except for the fact that he was twirling his knife with a level of expertise that hardly seemed necessary just to make a few sandwiches. The man with the cell phone seemed to think he was a woman, what with the lusty way he stared at him, and it was not hard to see why: he was quite pretty, with long dark hair, a bright smile, and smooth, soft skin. Even his voice was androgynous enough that he might easily be mistaken for someone of the opposite sex. Sam would have thought that funny if she were not so distracted with what was above the Pretty Boy's head.

Though she did not take the time to make out most of what was swirling about him, one viewing seemed to reach out to her, as if it needed her to see it. It was an image of Pretty Boy's face, except, unlike reality, his face in the viewing was bruised and beaten. He had two black eyes, a twisted and bloody nose, and a swollen lip; he looked dejected and demoralized. After a moment, two hands brought a burlap sack over the man in the viewing's broken face so that it was no longer visible. Eventually, the viewing reverted back to the face without the sack, and she could see it again for a few moments before the hands brought the sack down again. It just kept repeating, like a gif on the internet, the man looking beaten up and a sack falling over his head. She was not positive--the viewings were not always foretelling what they appeared to be--but common sense seemed to suggest this man was going to be beaten badly. Probably quite soon, she thought. Maybe even tonight, though she wasn't too sure about the timing.

Before today, Sam almost certainly would have kept this to herself. Her father always warned her that she needed to keep her "gift" a secret, no matter what, and she knew from personal experience that he was right to warn her so. And even if he had not, she would have figured there's nothing she could do to change it anyway, only make it worse. Today, however...after what the dragon-man did...maybe these people with so many viewings were different somehow, outside the normal boundaries of fate? Maybe they could change the future, or have their futures changed, in a way that normal people couldn't? Even this hypothesis on its own would not have been enough to convince her to reveal herself to a stranger under normal circumstances, but given the amount of suffering that viewing suggested the man was soon to endure...she thought she had to at least try. If he was a sane, normal person, he probably wouldn't believe her, so she'd just have to find a way to make him believe her. Somehow.

When it was her turn at the counter, she plopped her gallon of milk down. She looked left and right, trying to be sure no one was close enough to hear what she was about to say. The woman and her boy had left. The man with the cell phone still gazed admiringly at the store employee from the corner. The man in the trench coat and the girl with her dog were still there, as well, but the former was absorbed in his phone and the latter with trying to keep the pup under control. Nobody was close enough that they could hear her if she were to whisper, she thought. There was no one else behind her that she could see, at least not close enough to overhear.

Sam would have liked to lean over the counter to get closer to the Pretty Boy, but to her great annoyance, she was too short to do that without lifting her feet off the ground. Instead, she gestured for the man to come closer to her. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to multiply by a hundred. Was she shaking? It was probably too much to hope he could not tell how very nervous she was right now.

Catching a movement in the corner of his eye, Tannur looked up from what he was doing and saw a small girl with hair that reminded him of Silver beckoning to him from the other side of the counter, looking around to see if there was someone else she was after, he found no one and leaned over the counter. "Need something?"

"This is going to sound crazy," she began quietly when he was close enough, "but you shouldn't go out tonight. Sleep here, if there's a break room or a storage room you can hide in. If you go out, something terrible is going to happen to you. I know how it sounds, but...please, just trust me."

Tannur stared down at the girl incredulously. "Okay fine, I'll make sure to stay out of any dark alleyways and not talk to strangers." In his experience, 'fortune-tellers' usually pretended to read a person's palm or something before throwing out predictions, this one wasn't even demanding payment yet.

Plainly, the man wasn't taking her seriously, Sam thought. She should have expected as much. Furrowing her brow and biting at the end of her thumbnail, she decided she needed to take a gamble if she was going to get anywhere with him. She directed her attention briefly to the sea of swirling images above his head and picked out a few that she hoped would mean something to him.

"Do you know any monsters," she asked even more quietly than she started, more wary than ever of unwanted eyes and ears. "Big black ones wearing masks. Maybe they have a set of drums or a big baseball bat covered in spikes? They walk on thunderclouds and storms seem to follow them wherever they go? Or how about a giant silver cat? A female lion, I think? Have you managed to put a collar on her yet, or is she still giving you trouble?"

At the description of his two allies, Tannur briefly considered playing dumb, but quickly dropped the idea and leaned closer, then dropped his own voice to a low tone, not the sort of whisper that would draw suspicion but still impossible for anyone not close by to understand. "Alright girl you have my attention, who are you and where did you hear about such creatures?"

"I see things sometimes," she replied, fully cognizant of the risk she was taking by telling him this so candidly. "Things about what will happen later. And one of the things I see for you involves you getting beaten and having a sack thrown over your head. That's why you need to stay here tonight. I don't know if it will stop it from happening--if I had to guess, I'd say it won't--but it's worth a try." As she spoke, Sam fished a few coins out of her pocket and put them on the counter to pay for the milk, hoping the normal action would draw attention away from their whispering for anyone looking too closely.

Tannur got the hint and sighed heavily. "You're one of those seer types?" He said while putting the payment through the till. "Look girl I've had plenty of people that claim to see the future some of which actually could after a fashion but the only thing such predictions are good for is making you second guess yourself. Seems like most of the time people end up making what they're trying to avoid happen anyway."

Sam blinked at that and then smiled, pleasantly surprised. Pretty Boy had a good head on his shoulders. "You don't know how right you are about that," she said, grabbing her gallon of milk. "But I've never been wrong." Well. Except this morning. "It might not happen tonight, but it will happen soon. Be careful." She squinted at something above his head again. "Oh," she said offhandedly, "If you go home one day and find your pet lion is missing, you shouldn't worry. She's with a friend, but she'll come back." When that viewing came true, as Sam knew it would, it would be just one more little nudge to convince him she was telling the truth and not just some imaginative little girl.

With that, Sam figured she had done all she could to help this man short of tying him down. Whatever happened next was up to him; she noted glumly, however, that the gif-like viewing did not shatter as the skull had. "Bye," she said, heading past the other customers and out the door for home. She made a mental note to come back here tomorrow to see if the viewing remained above his head or if her telling him might cause the image to shatter later on instead.

Watching her leave, Tannur shook his head. "Pfft I'm always careful." The last time he had listened to a seer he had spent so much time looking for 'peril from above' that he had been badly wounded by someone aiming for his back, and the worst thing to come from above had been a freak spell of hail, though he had ironically been too busy recovering from his injury to be out in it anyway.

"Wait, what was that last part again?" Silver wandering off was definitely cause to worry.

Written with IG42

Samantha's Night Activity Complete

 

[MagicPenguin]

Arryn Bennett
Elena's Apartment

Tired after a long day of work, Arryn ascended the steps up to Rose and Ana's shared apartment with a small bouquet of roses he picked up on a whim from the flower shop next to his most recent job site; her namesake flower as a little get-well present, he figured. He'd been anxious about coming here the last week, torn between worry for his friend and the need to let her get her rest so she could heal. He'd called her a few times over the course of the last few days, though, just to see if she was feeling any better or if she needed him to bring anything for her. The last time he talked to her, yesterday or the day before, she asked him to come by today to see her after work. He was reluctant at first, both because he knew he'd have someone new staying at his place and also because he again worried that she needed to focus on healing rather than entertaining guests, but Rose sounded so insistent and--if he wasn't mistaken--so incredibly bored, that he hadn't had the heart to decline the offer. And, in truth, he WAS quite eager to see her himself; he hadn't tried very hard to argue the point.

He knocked lightly on the front door and was rewarded with the sound of shuffling on the other side. "Hey, guys," he called out, not sure if it was Rose or Ana he heard. "It's Arryn. May I come in?"

If not for Winston's obnoxious yowling at the front door, Elena wouldn't have known there was someone waiting behind it. She poked her head from around the kitchen corner, eyeing the old fluffball with an amused expression. "Is someone there, Winny?" The female asked as she slowly walked over, a cooking mit in one hand.

In a few short movements, the door was open and Elena's eyes automatically lit up. It'd only been a week since they last saw each other and hardly day since they last spoke, but it genuinely felt like ages.

"Arryn! Hi!" The woman said, her voice musical and light. "Yes, come in."

"Thanks," he said with a grin as he crossed the threshold. "I heard it was a custom on Earth to get flowers for someone who was sick or injured in hopes they'd get better, so..." he held out the bunch of roses he held in his hand for her.

Elena eyed the roses with awe, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink as she accepted the bouquet giddily. Her lips curved upwards she she glided her way back towards the kitchen. "Ah, they're beautiful. Thank you, Arryn."

Arryn examined Rose head to toe and was surprised to find her...if not in perfect shape, quite lively for someone who'd been impaled clean through the torso by a tree branch. She winced, perhaps unconsciously, every now and then and seemed to favor one side as she moved, but all things considered, it was a miracle she was up and moving at all, given what he'd heard had happened. Maybe Roland had exaggerated...?

"You're welcome," he said as he followed her into the kitchen and took a seat across from her at the table. "...though you don't even look like you need it" he finished in pleasant surprise. "How do you feel? Any better?"

After placing the flowers into a vase and checking the meal that was cooking in the oven, the woman stood up and crossed her arms in thought. "I actually feel great. I'm still a little sore and there's kind of a ghost pain in the area, but overall I'm as strong as a bear." Elena began before pausing. "But it is weird though. I started feeling better by the third day even though Tom told me things wouldn't really close up until a week or so."

"Is that so...?" Arryn pondered this for a minute. Healing faster than she should? What could have happened to cause that? Curious...

The kitchen timer abruptly sounded, causing the dark blonde to jump in her place. She swiftly took out the coq au vin, which was a simple French dish that consisted of chicken, cream, and white win, and set it on the dining table next to the fresh loaf of bread she'd made that morning.

"This isn't much, but I hope you like it. There's also a dessert sitting in the refrigerator if you end up having room for that."

Not having eaten all day, Arryn's stomach growled in anticipation of the meal set before him. It was an effort not to let his mouth water.

"No, this looks fantastic. I didn't realize you were such a good cook!" It was far better than what he'd be feeding himself at home, a sandwich or canned food in the microwave.

The blonde woman smiled proudly as she did some last minute adjustments. Besides writing and singing, cooking was something she also enjoyed doing even though she didn't really have the time for it lately. "I learned how to once I moved out of my mom's place. You should invite your new flatmate next time. It's a little soon, but I'd love to meet him."

The two dug in and, as they ate, Arryn responded. "Actually," he said, "It turns out she's a woman! Her name's Scarlet Sommerfeld. I was really surprised when I saw her. On Aether, an unmarried man and woman living together is...unorthodox, to say the least. At least, it was in Alcamoth. But nobody seems to have an issue here. It's...going to take some getting used to." He felt heat in his cheeks again, as he had when he first met Scarlet, and again worried that he might actually be blushing at the whole situation.

Elena's eyes widened in surprised as she listened to Arryn speak. The smile she wore earlier was still plastered on her face, except it was one of amusement rather than happiness. The thought of Arryn living with a woman was a bit humorous but only because she'd seen how he was at times.

"She seems nice," he went on. "I feel bad that I have to lie to her about who I am and...everything else. But it's for the best. The farther away she stays from me...the real me...the better off she'll be. Less chance she'll end up like Daniel did," he said, a touch sadly, downcast eyes fixed to his plate. He glanced briefly at Rose again and wondered to himself if she wouldn't have been better off if she hadn't met him and Daniel either. She never would have ended up with a tree branch through her stomach. Never would have had to worry about keeping secrets or risking her life or...any of it. He'd come to accept, after Daniel's death, that people who stayed near to him had a bad habit of dying before their time. First old Hogan, his dwarven foster father. Then Roland almost died at Blackrock because Arryn wasn't there when he needed him most. Then Daniel in Covent Garden. He couldn't protect any of them; instead, they'd died for him. What if he couldn't protect Rose either? The idea tied his stomach in knots. He couldn't bear the thought.

"Arryn? Arryn?" Elena called gently as she noticed the male's change in posture, her eyes softening. "Are you okay?"

Arryn abruptly realized he was frowning at his plate of food and tried to put on a smile again. "Yes. Sorry. I was just thinking of Daniel. I had to get rid of a lot of his things before Scarlet came. It wasn't easy. Giving away all his clothes just made his death seem so much more...real, somehow. It's really hard knowing he's never coming back."

Nodding, Elena chewed slowly on a slice of bread. "I know I didn't know him for very long, but he was a good man. I'll miss him." She said softly.

"If I hadn't left him on that front porch..." he mumbled. "He told me to go, but I can't help but blame myself. I should have done...something. He should not have had to die."

Instinctively, Elena got up from her seat and walked around the table. She bent down and wrapped her arms around the male as best she could, rubbing his back. "Don't, Arryn. It's not your fault. Daniel died hero. He wouldn't want you glooming around because then his death will have been in vain. We should salute him, not mull over past decisions."

"I know. Thank you, Rose," Arryn replied, smiling. He told himself that all the time, but it was nice to hear someone else say it for once too. Still, no matter how true it was, no matter how many times he repeated it to himself, there was always that little voice in the back of Arryn's head, whispering about how it was his fault, how he couldn't protect anyone close to him.

Despite Arryn trying to remain positive and occaisionally strike up another conversation, the rest of the meal remained relatively silent, grim, and somber.

Written with koala
Mentioned: Pilgrim59

Arryn's Night Activity: Done

 

[Disco]

Avery Luciano​

​

​

Night Action – Streets of London



A dark crawl infested the cramped alleyways during night. Many would avoid wandering these streets with the unknown lurking. Uncertainty is insidious. Creeping within could be the harmless mouse, or the dangerous thug. This night the latter was in meeting.

Avery lay back, calmly waiting alongside the stone brick. His eyes carefully darting. The man is an observant type, and even one of his stature needs to be careful alone at night. Thankfully, he didn’t have to be alone much longer. Even if the company was more dangerous than most.

An older man, likely somewhere in his early 50s, staggered forward towards Avery. He was a larger, brutish looking fellow. Dressed sharply and professionally, a full suit to assert wealth and dominance. He still carried the demeanor of a rough thug despite this. “You’ve checked the perimeters, kid?” His gravely, smoky voice husked in accusation. A clear lack of expectations from Avery.

In the world of organized crime, respect is something of incredible value. The toughest men earn it with decisions rooted in cold blood. It’s not simply enough to be born into a place of power. No, not nearly enough. Such is why Avery is sent on missions like these, to meet with the true criminals of the world. He has to earn his respect. It’s especially important for a young pup like him to earn it, great things are expected from the boss’s son. Although whether or not the circumstances to earn that respect were fair Avery had no control over.

“I’ve been checking for the past 15 minutes. You’re late, Tony.” Avery retorted with chilling tone. It was just calm enough to not be provoking, but the smartarse intent could still be felt. A careful dance with words was to be had with Capos. They’ve earned their rank but that doesn’t mean one should just whimper from them.

The older man’s expression crinkled in disgust. He was one to make his thoughts very clear, and everything in his face read that he wanted to smack Avery right then and there. It wouldn’t be productive to start any fights, however, and Tony was well aware of this. Not only did Avery have some protection, what with his father, but he had to begrudgingly work with the brat the next morning. Might as well get to the point.

“I’ll show when I want to. Be grateful I decided to not leave you here all night.” Tony grumbled. “Listen kid. We have a small hustle at some broad’s house first thing in the morning.” Shuffling deep in his pocket, Tony removed a small slip of paper for Avery to take. “Show up. Get the money. If she doesn’t have what she owes, we break some shit and come back a few days later.”

Avery took a quick peak at the address. His mind read it over several times quickly, internalizing it to memory. He’d burn it later tonight. Avery took a deep sigh, already loathing the next morning. From what he understood, this woman was someone who has already been down on life. Single mother, low income family, had to find another source of cash to support the kids. Now she has the mafia down her neck. This was the exact kind of thing Avery despised, Tony would dismiss it as getting herself into trouble.

“I understand. I’ll see you later.” Avery was brief and concise. He didn’t want to spend any more time with Tony than he had to. The infamous drug Capo hated Avery, and Avery hated him. It was a mutual agreement.

​

Avery Night Action Complete​

​

 

[doneanddusted]

Written with koala , mentions MagicPenguin

The pain of a broken wrist seemed to finally register once Summer began to address it. Needless to say, she got herself over to the hospital as quickly as possible. Summer could describe the stay there as… agonizing. There was some waiting, some paperwork, more waiting, questions from the doctor, more waiting- Summer did a lot of waiting. In the end, she walked out of the hospital with a cast and an excuse to not work. She still went to the cafe, though, so that she could observe other people and talk to her coworkers. That was what she liked to do best: watch, and listen, and get to know everyone around her- not just for manipulation purposes, but also because people were just so damn interesting.

Soon, evening came about, and the store closed down. Summer left the building relatively quickly, having not much to do. The sound of a musical bell filled the quiet streets as Elena stepped out of the bookstore. Her floral dress whooshed with the movement of her body as she spun around on her heels, slowly reaching into her purse to pull out the store key. For whatever reason, Thomas was adamant at someone else closing up place. "If I've clocked out, I've clocked out." The older man would always argue.

Turning around to head home, her doe eyes stopped on the blonde not even a couple meters away. "Oh, Summer?" She called, squinting her eyes through her large glasses as she cautiously stepped forwards. "It is you! Hello."

Summer turned to see a young woman with gorgeous brown eyes; otherwise she looked like any typical white girl.

Realizing that they'd never formally introduced themselves after all their time working near each other, the dark blonde let out quiet, embarrassed laugh.

"Sorry," she began, her American accent noticeable even though there was a faint hint of London in it, "You probably don't know who I am. I'm Elena Benoit, the manager of Author's Attic. I kind of make it my job to know everyone at the bookstore and bakery. It keeps the environment warm and friendly, you know?"

Looking down, she'd realized the other female was wearing a cast. Wide-eyed, she let out a worried, "Oh my gosh. Are you okay?"

"Oh, this?" Summer lifted her wrist up. "I almost got hit by a car.” As if that was some small mundane event, she continued. “They call you Rose, right? I've seen you around."

"Ah, yes. My friends do. Not quite sure how that started." Elena replied with a slight chuckle.

Summer’s eyes widened.

"You don't happen to be friends with this man named Roland? A bit short for a man... redheaded... tattoos on his arms…?"

Elena's eyes lit up, both excitement and curiosity flowing through her veins. Roland was a rather friendly man, so it was inevitable that he'd meet new people. The chance of them sharing an acquaintance so soon was what really surprised her though.

"I do, actually." Elena began, the corners of her rosey lips curving upwards as she checked her small wrist watch. "He's a friend of a friend, really, but I guess we're closer now thanks to recent events. Why do you ask?"

A friend of a friend? That wasn’t too close now…

“Roland was the one who saved me, I suppose.” Summer explained. “How’s the bookstore?” She giggled a bit. “You look like the kind to have read all the books in there.”

Letting out a gentle laugh, Elena nodded her head. "I'm not surprised he did. He's the hero-type." Adjusting her bag so it was draped over her shoulder rather than dangling in her hand. "Is it that obvious?" The female began, checking her watch once more except with a little urgency.

"I've made it a habit to read everything before they're officially sold on our shelves. So sorry Summer, I'm going to have to cut this short. I have a dinner date tonight and need to get the food into the oven as soon as possible."

As Elena began walking away, she turned and made sure to wave at her coworker. "I'll see you tomorrow if you're working!"

Summer waved back, saying: "See you!"

Elena wasn’t so bad… The young woman nodded to herself. Yes, Elena seemed like a normal person. As Summer was about to go towards her apartment, a tug at her jacket stopped her. Summer turned to see her longtime friend Diana Miller; a rather curvy young woman with what people liked to call a “doll-like face.” Summer had to agree; she did kind of look like a Victorian doll. Though, to her, Diana looked more like a snack.

Her friend's face seemed more neutral than normal- something was wrong.

“I’m going back to Manchester,” she said.

Ah.

“Is it the Covent Garden thing?” Summer asked, a gentle smile still on her face.

“Yeah,” Diana sighed. “My parents don’t want me to get hurt.”

“I see,” Summer nodded.

There was a bit of silence between the two. The whole Covent Garden incident was a mess; so many people had their own theories about what happened. Summer herself had her own ideas, though she kept her ideas to herself.

“Do you want to come with me?” Diana asked. “My parents would be fine with it. You know how rich they are.”

“No,” Summer replied immediately.

“Come on, think of it as a little vacation. It’s not like you can work with a broken wrist. I know you haven’t left London since… since medical school!”

Summer faked an embarrassed laugh.

“It’s not like you’re averse to change,” Diana continued, her tone far more serious. “You didn’t have a problem switching from medical school to baking.”

“Well there was nothing I could do, I got kicked out,” Summer shrugged. “No use worrying about the past, y’know?”

“Okay, but you still seek change. You’re always bored. So why not come with me to Manchester?”

Summer shrugged again.

“I’m not really feeling it,” she said. “I’m in a stay home sort of mood, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Diana sighed. “Ugh, you weirdo.”

“That’s why you love me,” Summer winked.

Diana’s lips formed a small smile. She gave Summer a hug, and promptly left, leaving Summer alone on the streets.

Summer's Night Thingie Complete!!