Fantasy The Case of Lockheed Orphanage for the Supernaturally Gifted

[CeaserXIX]

Quinn
- Locking himself away, actively ignoring the time, refusing to retreat to the dining hall
-  Rage and hostility we're all that filled the stressed child's once innocent, now twisted, mind

As the day progressed through it's usual dreary cycle, Quinn could only feel disgust towards the events of the day. He was glad to have eventually discover Colette and Gwyneira safe and sound, but his mood had long since soured, and he showed intensifying progress in anger, his mind continuously muddled by Abigail, by the Caretakers, by the orphans, by Colette being a careless fool who went God knows where, by Gwyn for being the most puppy following it's desired being so close to their luckily dodged untimely Denise, and that staircase. That damnable staircase, that lead to no where, yet must lead to somewhere. In turn, he avoided everyone as much as he could, going as far as to dodged any attempts at interaction from even Frida and Colette, two of the only other children present that he could genuinely admit to wanting to be in their presence, and dinner was no different, having managed to dodged everyone to avoid any chances of the Caretakers forcing the irritated and sleep deprived boy to eat. "Don' want no damned food. Do I look hungry," he muttered to himself as he moved like a shadow between the other orphans, mindlessly flocking to dinner, like nothing but braindead lambs to be fattened up for whatever was slowly picking at their minds. Once he gained himself plenty of space, he walked against the shadowed walls, and began pushing himself within the shadow, the once still shade now a rippling pool of black liquid, as if pushing through a liquid mirror, before he slowly vanished within, making it impossible for anyone else to follow, using his chance to sneak off to the woods, as he did, only pulling himself out of the shadows once dar enough away, appearing within a beautiful clearing within the woods, deep enough where only him and Mateo would know, the songs of birds echoing throughout the trees, an ever so calming place for anyone who's lucky enough to discover it, moving over to a hollowed out trunk of a tree, reaching his hand within the tree, pulling out a small metal box out of it, opening the lid of it, digging out a box of cigarettes he stored away, knowing orphans weren't allowed to have these items on hand, so hiding them deep within the tree, pulling out a box of matches along with the box of cigarettes, hitting the bottom of the pack against his palm, before opening the box up, and removing a single tube from the pack, placing the filter between his lips, removing a match from the box and strikes it against the side, using the flame to light the cancer stick, before flicking the match out, slipping it into his jacket's left pocket, refusing to define such a beautiful face with litter as he dragged from the cigarette, letting out a shaky breath, letting the smoke leaving his lips as he looked for a good spot to sit.​

 

[Kovacs]

Makoto Madiyarov

Caretaker

theme

Location

the tree; east Orphanage perimeter

Tags

Mateo Solinas

AmberV

Adelaide Furse

mizton

Abigail Lipton (NPC)

SavannahSmiles

The Professor (NPC)

@Coyote

The tree was no different from when he'd last laid eyes on it a month ago. Months before that, it had been near the gates, and two years before that it had stood next to the cellar door. As a fresh caretaker, his mind and its tricks were at first to blame. Now, Makoto patrolled and met each new cardinal direction with an uneasy nod to the gods, heart heavy with superstitious caution. A constantly shifting nomad of a tree in all but looks. The same withering stripes of bark and dead wood wreathed around a once-proud base, its all too-familiar splintered crown of edgewood reaching no higher than his chest. What forces cut it down, he had not known back then, and would never think to ask now. The darkness of the hollow cavity caved within was all that a buried promise needed. His buried promise.

That voice; low yet amiable, the beginnings of age abradening the throat like burr. Mr. Solinas, though the man always had insisted on Mateo. There was an air of unexpected weariness surrounding him, as if he too had been burdened by a troublesome line of thinking. Makoto felt a familiar spark of pity for one of the longest-standing Caretakers; to tire but never be granted respite from one's own action or thoughts was a fate few could handle. The irony was starker than usual, for today was a holy day for rest, in a place and a world that denied it at every opportunity.

Makoto blinked. Dinner hall?

Dark thickets of brow curved low from the weight of his confusion. Briefly, his mind retraced its steps. He had left the Professor's office in the late morning. Noon tea was on the verge of being served when he began to patrol the perimeter, resisting the temptation to reexamine the file of the new Caretaker. Minutes later, like clockwork in the corner of his eye, he spotted the tree stump...

Minutes, insisted the taste of earl gray still reminiscent on his tongue. Yes, only minutes, echoed the warmth still brewing in his skin. But his eyes---now drawn to the groundskeeper's firm weathered hands---told of a much longer length in time. Hours perhaps, spent grappling with the damned fences again.

"I...I---only buri---"

Makoto caught his truth like a frog, mouth closing to keep it from jumping out. The sudden feeling to confess, to finally breathe life into the stonewall he bore, faded. Mr. Solinas was not him, the man he had to answer to, the father who at a similar age, had taken him in all those years ago.

What Mr. Solinas was, Makoto sternly reminded himself, was a Caretaker who had missed that morning's surprise kitchen briefing. Like Adelaide, though he prayed to the gods that by now, someone had already had the misfortune of filling her in.

"Abigail Lipton," he finally said, a bit too quickly. "Hospitalized, as of last night. That is the story for us to tell the kodomo. But..."

Makoto glanced at Solinas, careful with what he had to say next. "That kozu who disappeared. Year before Furse and I came. Something like with what happened to that boy happened last night, Mateo. The girl was out after curfew. The Okami, she had me deal with her. Put her and her hysterics to sleep, bring her up the stairs blind, to a room that is never there in daytime."

The memory, and retelling it still made his skin scrawl, but the soldier in him kept his voice matter-of-fact, though with every word a superstitious zealousness overcame him. "Something strangled her to death, Mateo. I know your respect for the Okami, but she was the one who blinded me to it. I have not been here as long as you, but I know my duty. It is to care and make sure they do not meet their deaths early. You must feel it too; a devil's eye over this place, over us all. After all these years, the signs I've seen, all these omens enough to drive a crow mad---"

A loud crinkle of paper. Makoto looked down. It was the new Caretaker's file, sitting next to his boot and half-covered in snow. The pause in picking it up seemingly cooled him down. With a sigh and a shake of the head, he held the file out for Solinas to study, her striking photo plain to see. A contorted, pained smile flickered across his lips as he began to move to go back to the Orphanage.

"...and then this. A child is dead, and the Professor hires. Not more manpower, just another pretty face for the children's comfort. An American, no less."

❂​

CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER

 

[AmberV]

Mateo Solinas
Mateo despised himself for a moment. He despised the way that the death of this little girl didn't surprise him, that the thing that actually struck him was denial of the Owner's involvement or cruel intention towards the children. For a long, gut-wrenching moment, all he could think is that he had been here too long. Mateo had been a traveler, a wandering laborer who had rarely stayed in one place long enough to truly become attached. And here he was, years into service to a woman he'd never seen face-to-face, and yet he still considered slapping Makoto across the face for daring to even imply that the Owner would drive Makoto to do anything to cause harm to the child.

The anger passed as quickly as it came. Cooler heads always prevail and this was no time. Mateo folded his arms and began to slowly tap his fingers against the thick cloth of his jacket, "If such things are true, I presume it was because she was on her way to even greater trouble." Mateo looked back towards the orphanage, then up at the darkening sky, "I found a peculiar book in her room and I'm concerned that she may have been looking where none of us should. Perhaps such tragedy was inevitable."

He'd heard the knock at the door those years ago and Mateo heard the bells in the night. He may have a bit of protection, but all that did was make it clear to him that outside the Orphanage is where the wolves lurked. The Owner was safety, everything else was danger.

Mateo took the file and gave it a short glance, "I trust she'll fit in well. Besides, what fun to have an American. We've nearly got one from every continent now." He handed it back and gave Mac a pat on the shoulder, "We should get inside before darkness truly falls. Everything looks better after dinner and I'd like you to look at the book before curfew. You know I'm not much of a reader, even plain English is often like Aramaic to me."

---

Location: The Grounds
Tags: Kovacs
Mention: Makoto

 

[Coyote]

AmberV Kovacs

Mateo's lantern flares angrily, letting out a shrill sound like the crackling hiss of a rattlesnake. The Owner is watching... the embers linger, floating into the air and towards the stump and although rare, Mateo was familiar with such an occurrence. It was protecting himself against a Thing and when an ember landed upon the stump, a shriek echoed out. The bark splintered and split, the wood writhing and shriveling into an odd form. For a moment, it appeared almost like a hand, fingers and all, before collapsing into the ground, leaving nothing but dark pit. Then, roots stretched and coalesced, closing up the hole that had appeared. For a moment, silence... an eerie breeze whistled through the trees as the skies went from lavender to a deep blue. It would be only minutes till dark but just when it seemed proper to turn back to the orphanage, the sound of bells were heard. Church bells, ringing out on a Sunday evening, echoed throughout the forest and the lantern's light flickered weakly for a moment. The Owner's keen eye lingered on Mateo and Makoto, however, and a tightness grew in their chest. It felt as if a hand had reached into their bodies and grabbed ahold of their heart leaving a sharp, chilling sensation that caused them to shudder uncomfortably. As they should... for something else was lurking about causing trouble.

CeaserXIX

Something is lurking nearby...

 

[Ghostiiys]

CODE BY SEROBLISS

Frida Wagner

Location: Dining room

Frida hated classes at the best of times, but today's lesson had become a haven for her. Diligently writing into her notebook, the noise of her pencil scraping against the paper was cathartic for her. Her shoulders visibly began to loosen as time passed. Frida actually engaged with Doris, asking questions and seeking help. A far cry from the way Frida normally acted, but the young teen so desperately wanted the normalcy that she hated on a normal basis.
Frida's demeanor was more subdued for rest of the day, maybe it was due to Quinn not being with her, but Colette and Gwyneira being found helped to settle some nerves.
Time flew by for the young lady, Lunch wasn't much to talk about and for once in her life, Frida actually paid attention to her other classes. And before she knew it, it was time for dinner. Frida felt no rush to attend dinner, it was as if she had no energy to run down the halls like the other kids in the building. However, upon noticing Quinn she perked up.

"Hey, Quinny!" She shouted, trying to get her voice heard due to the small crowd of other children rushing to the dining hall.

She couldn't tell if he heard her or not but she could tell he had no intention of joining her and the others to eat as he quickly morphed into a nearby shadow and disappeared from her view.

"Ugh! What a knob." she pouted before rushing to dinner.

When Frida entered the dining room she noticed how quickly seats were being taken. She couldn't see Cole or Quinn and for some reason Frida was feeling rather lonely, clutching her chest as she stared into the room.
Taking a seat in the middle of the table Frida began to fiddle with her fingers. Maybe she wasn't that hungry after all. Although now she realized that Olivia's annoying sibling, Oliver had been staring at her. For how long? Frida wondered before her face contorted into that of anger.

"Who do you think you're looking at?" She scowled, clenching her fists that were under the table. Frida was in no mood, she had enough today, and if Oliver didn't give her a good explanation as to why he was staring her down. Frida was already contemplating jumping across the table and giving him a piece of her mind.

mentions: CeaserXIX SavannahSmiles

 

[housegoat13]

CARETAKER

Character Sheet

Oddity

Injury Transfer

Location

Jasper's Bedroom ----> Dining Room

Interactions

Doris

Tags

Paperface

Jasper Cummings

In Jasper’s bedroom where he often slept and painted, the chair that usually sat in the corner was now scooted dramatically to the dresser. A towel was laid neatly against the wood and Jasper’s wrapped wrist laid on top of the soft fabric. In the chair, sat the man himself.

After Jasper had helped Olivia with her sprain, he had taken her to get a towel and similarly he got one for himself too, but he anticipated not needing the fabric for another hour or so. He took to wandering the halls, supervising the children when his presence was needed, but he found himself drifting. Each step that he took felt like falling, and his mind, he supposed, was sluggish when trying to process new information. He knew he needed to rest. There was very little he could have done to help in the kitchen anyways, seeing as he could only use one hand, he proved to be more of a hazard than anything.

The grandfather clock ticked faintly in the hall as he sat towards the ajar door, the clock was perfectly in his view. He supposed he would look rather strange to all who found themselves crossing the hall and just happened to peer inside only to find their caretaker staring back at them. A few moments were all he needed however, just to decompress.

As he sat, his mind was nowhere and just the same, it was everywhere, processing the day’s events but not inherently thinking about it all. He was lost within himself, and yet it felt so comforting to wander.

He was startled when the clock played its familiar chime, marking the hour. Was it seven already? It seemed merely a second had passed before he had seated himself 30 minutes earlier.

The chair creaked as he lifted himself up with a tired sigh, and he grabbed his towel. Moments later he was in the entryway of the dining room.

He took a moment to stand in the doorway, surveying the room before spotting Doris, and he started towards the woman.

“Good evening, Doris.” Jasper issued a greeting, giving a light smile once he had made his way beside of her. “May I sit here?” He asked, gesturing to the chair to her left.

coded by natasha.

 

[CeaserXIX]

Quinn
- Hiding away from the rest of the Orphanage in his self claimed sanctuary within the woods
-  Alert and  Uneasy, the boy can tell something is off

Quinn slowly took in the peace of the meadow around him, enjoying the calming effect of the nicotine rushing through him, his mind still being ravaged by his angry and confused thoughts, but as he enjoyed the silence, he felt himself slowly feeling at- wait, silence. 'Why is it so quiet?' His mind questioned, noting how the birds had stopped singing, the wind suddenly growing louder, as if the wind was mocking him, allowing him to hear his heart begin to race, screaming at him as his unease grew. As he stood there, trying to silently listen to the air, deep in the back of his mind, soft whispers creeped through his ears. "This place is no longer safe", "We need to leave. Now", "To the shadows, quickly, come to our cold safety", "No, this place is ours", "We will not surrender our sanctuary", "We can't leave, this meadow is our claim", his anxiety peaking higher and higher as the whispers fought over what they should do, flee or fight? Retreat and live to reclaim this place, or refuse, stand his ground, and hold his own over whatever comes his way? Despite the protest of some, Quinn ultimately decided to hear out the ones proclaiming the meadow as their own, standing his ground, firmly planting his feet into the snow, taking drag after drag on his cigarette, waiting for his unseen foe to finally show it's ugly face.

- Coyote ​

 

[Coyote]

CeaserXIX

Some time passed when nothing was heard. If it moved, its steps were quiet. But there, in the distance where the fence stood, a figure shuffled into view against the dark oaks that shaded the snow with nightly shadows. It was small with a youthful face and upon spotting Quinn, waved timidly. A young boy severely underdressed for the weather.

"H-hello?" he called out, "You there! Could you help me?" His arms were folded over his chest and he shuddered as a gust of wind billowed past him. His dark messy hair was matted over a fair face with a button nose and pink lips. At a glance, he appeared about as old as Quinn. Perhaps a year or two younger.

"Do you know where I am?" he asked, standing by the fence.

 

[CeaserXIX]

Quinn
- Woods/Meadow
- Still cautious and nervous, Quinn imma feels concerned at the sight of the boy

HIs eyes continued scanning around his surroundings, trying to spot whatever it was that lit his nerves alight, stepping a bit further out from his spot under a nnearby tree, before he caught glimpse of the figure, noting how the figure seemed to shiver in the cold, squinting his eyes at it, trying to see it better from under his cowl. Upon realizing it's simply a boy, and poorly dressed for this weather, his instinct of flight or fight seemed to dullen, replaced with deep worry for the boy. "Hey, why're ya' out in this cold with no proper linen on? You're gonna get sick," he immediately called out, seeing the boy wave at him as he spoke, causing him to start his approach towards him, though something inside his gut stopped him when he was in the center of the snow filled meadow, his caution returning at the flick of a switch. "You're on owned land, that's where you are. Why are you outside with so little clothing,' he questioned from his spot, his cigarette halfway burned, lifting it back to his lips as he pulled another drag from it. "Do ya' need any help?"

- Coyote ​

 

[Coyote]

CeaserXIX

"I... I was running. Running away. And something was chasing me, I didn't have time to look back. I just... felt it,” the boy said. "I was once from a place called Lockheed Orphanage. Do you know of it?"

Quinn gulped at the boys words. "Y-yeah...", He murmured back, looking at him with fear in his eyes, yet resolved to stand his ground still, refusing to back down, "You're...actually on the land that Lockheed sits on...do I know you?"

The boy lowers his gaze wistfully. "I see..." he mumbled, falling to knees and sitting down in the snow opposite the fence. "Are you an orphan too? Do you know? What she does to us?"

Quinn could feel his blood both boil, yet freeze at the child's words, a creeping dread climbing up his spine as he listened. "I...am," he replied, dropping his cigarette as his hand shook, taking in the words leaving this child, and as soon as he asked, Quinn's eyes lit up. Abigail flooded his mind, and the words seemed to pool from his lips, the black liquid unwillingly pushing it's way by his eye, softly whispering, "The Owner...she's killing us..."

The boy’s deathly silence was all he could offer for an answer. ”I can help you. This fence… only residents of the Orphanage can give permission to outsiders and I… well… could I pass through?” he shuddered, the biting cold numbing his fingertips. The winters are always difficult,” he said with a poor attempt for a smile. “You can call me Georgie.”

 

[CeaserXIX]

Quinn
- Woods/Meadow
- As he spoke to this person, he felt  anxious, wondering who this individual was.

At the sound of the boy's request, Quinn had begun to say something, but yet again, the whispers kicked up, rattling on about caution, and to continue testing the waves on which they rode, and this he retracted his words, though his legs shuffled him closer to this...Georgie. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you, so I'm afraid I can't until I'm sure you're not lyin'. I've never seen you before, Georgie, and I've been here a pretty long time now. Why are you out in the snow?" Quinn continued to question, slowly, yet carefully moving closer to the boy, a mix of curiosity and anxiety keeping him on his toes, in case it came down to him having to run or fight, though he hoped it wouldn't come to this, his father had taught him to always be ready, "At the drop of a cap", as he would say, keeping his silver, lupine eyes on him.

- Coyote ​

 

[SavannahSmiles]

location

Dining Room

mentions

Frida

tags

Ghostiiys

Twins

The twins were seated at the table awaiting the delivery of dinner. Thankfully the rest of their day had been uneventful, if a little tense once they heard the news that Cole and Gwyn had been missing for a short period of time. As everyone began to file through the doors, the twins noted that the mood seemed somber, less lively than it normally might have been on any other day.

Olivia's eyes scanned the crowd hopefully, her tiny shoulders slumping when she realized Makoto hadn't arrived yet. She had been hoping to return his scarf to him, Oliver had helped her fold it neatly and it was currently laying over the back of her chair. But there was still time before dinner started, maybe he was just running a bit late.

Sighing softly, she grabbed her napkin and awkwardly spread it over her lap with her left hand; her bandaged right hand was currently resting on a soft folded towel situated on top of the dining table. Jasper had given her stern instructions to avoid using it for the time being and as such, she was left to fumble around with her non-dominant hand.

Oliver, who had been watching the door as well, scowled when he saw Frida walk into the room. Olivia had told him everything that had happened this morning and while it was still uncertain exactly what had transpired, his sister had been hurt and it had been in the presence of someone who never tried to mask the distain she felt towards the younger members of the orphanage.

When Frida meet his icy glare and demanded to know who he was staring at, he sniffed delicately as he took a sip of his drink. "Obviously I'm looking at you." He replied dryly, "I just think it's interesting that my sister was sent off to class with you and she ended up getting hurt."

Olivia's eyes widened at Oliver's comment and her gaze darted nervously between her brother and Frida. She nearly hid her injured hand underneath the table but she knew Jasper would likely scold her if he caught her doing so.
​

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nine lives

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[Ashy_OCdesigns]

Yep, stuff was going down. Ethel noticed the fight brewing between Oliver and Frida as she was watching closely. She noticed Olivia look nervously between the two, so Ethel moved closer to the fight, partially to hear what they said, and partially to get Olivia away from said fight. It was noted that he often made situations worse, given the fact that Ethel couldn't shut up at all. She didn't want to bother finding Collette, so she decided to overcome her fear, and approached the stormy table.

"Excuse me?" Ethel was off to a good start so far as she addressed the entire table. "May I take Olivia for a quick sec?" Ethel stayed stony, she didn't want to screw this up. It was just as likely as not that Oliver and Frida would gang up on her instead, something she didn't want. Ethel obviously wasn't used to being quiet, and she shifted from foot to foot.

pings: SavannahSmiles , Ghostiiys

 

[Kovacs]

Makoto Madiyarov

Caretaker

theme

Location

the tree; east Orphanage perimeter

Tags

Mateo Solinas

AmberV

Abigail Lipton (NPC)

SavannahSmiles

The Owner

@Coyote

Doris Martin

Paperface

Makoto looked intently at the man before him. Inevitable death over a book. Not only a breach of curfew, he was coming to learn, but robbed of air for the sin of a curious eye and a little thief's touch. Such blood-and-thunder cruelty and consequence, they were no strangers to the soldier within. But he'd thought those days of war were over.

Makoto closed his eyes. Her acrylic ghost of a face flashed briefly before him. The seed of guilt grew into a sapling of quiet fury. How mindless of you.

Finally, dark Japanese copper met Italian grey-blue. A soft, derisive hum of breath escaped his lips. "Greater trouble for who, Mateo? Abigail or the Okami-san?"

The older man did not answer. Or chose not to, opting instead to accept the file in good humour. The word fun stuck out like a sore thumb on Makoto's shoulder. When Solinas' hand pressed against it, he stifled the urge to flinch.

What could not be stifled however, was the rumble in his stomach. Tonight was Doris' cooking after all; utter delicacies that had never before failed in lifting his spirits. The thought of enjoying it next to her made the tension much more tolerable. A flicker of a sympathetic smile eased out of the veteran at his fellow foreigner's plight with English.

"On the steamer from Japan," he nodded slowly, taking and tucking the file back into his jacket. "For weeks, there was only one English book I read. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. A novel for children, but I myself was only a boy then."

Guided by the soft whispers of nostalgia, Makoto placed a hand against the tree's withered bark and shook his head.

"I was no natural. Even my---my wife, she lost patience with me. But I kept at it. All for..." his voice trailed off, swaying unsteadily for a moment before settling into a misty-eyed timbre. "For my daughter, Kairi. Not even a year old at the time. But every day on that ship, every word of that book I read to her. With her." A slow, loving sheen glazed over his eyes, stern mouth melting into a rare, humourous smile. "When we docked in London, a rich man's lapdog came to us, white as snow. She said her first word right then. Pointed to it and called it rabbit."

No sooner had the last word left his lips, did the air suddenly tremble. Bleeding into the winter breeze now was a loud, piercing, serpentine hiss of flame. As embers sailed into the tree base's wooden embrace, time slowed to a crawl.

It was less of a landmine's terrifying roar and more of a dying creature's caterwauling. But a soldier's body knew not the difference. Only the action. With all the urgency of a hundred trench falls, Makoto marshalled Mateo to the ground with him, one arm covering his own head and the other splayed defensively across the older man's back.

Fear hammered and slipped through the cracks of his heart. Through the cleft of his underarm, Makoto watched a twitching, meandrous form begin to take shape. Swiveling around, his boots kicked up lumps of snow as he retreated further back. In a blink, finger-like tendrils reached out from a human-like palm, before curling back into a chasm of darkness.

Without thinking, Makoto lurched forward, his own fingers grasping for the roots pooling and welding together over the gaping hole, over where his old promise was once buried.
Nails dragged over hardened radicle, a fevered whisper of 'no' stumbling out his mouth. "Iyaiya, iyaiya, iya..."

By now, he had drawn onto his knees, cap hanging askew off his dark, sawtoothed hair. The tree was gone. Emptiness as heavy as the anvil in his chest took its place, comforted only by the chime of a soft breeze and...

Church bells.

Amaterasu's evening glory was no more; the witching hour had begun. In the sudden darkness, Makoto felt the anvil in his chest turn into a snake's coil. Breath hitching, his spine curved somewhat as an arctic freeze traveled through. Jaw clenched, memory whispered of a familiar coldness from her fingers, as well as his companion. Over his shoulder, a weary, leather-tinted gaze drew to the flickering flame first before dwelling back onto its keeper.

"Kuso..."

With a breathless groan, Makoto heaved himself back onto his feet. Wordlessly, a hand, half-helping and half-apologetic, held itself out for Mateo. The tightfistedness around both their hearts needed no explanation. The toll of bells mysteriously persisted. Echoing throughout the entire wood, beckoning them to follow it to its source, to trouble no doubt. Makoto forced out an exhale of breath, free hand kneading circles over his tightened chest. He regarded their surroundings in long, agitated bouts. The feeling of being watched never ceased.

"Imaimashī akuma..."

Makoto shook his head quickly, unable to stifle his sapling of fury, or stop his war nerves from fraying further. Out of wretched habit, a cold palm grasped at a damp neck for his one source of consistent comfort. But it was still back at the Orphanage. Comforting and draped across the shoulders of a certain young orphan. He had foolishly let the Hawthorne girl soften his heart, which he was now paying the price for. As if Mateo---whether he'd accepted the hand or not---were nothing but air, the thought continued aloud in a dark, superstitious mutter, calling back his earlier words. "Sore ga kanojodesu. A devil. Her devil's eye...over this place, over us all..."

❂​

Imaimashī akuma...// Damned devil...
Sore ga kanojodesu. // That's her.​

CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER

 

[AmberV]

Mateo Solinas
Mateo knew well the Owner's hand and, as he took Makoto's to rise to his feet, his grip on the lantern remained steadfast and strong. He drew one, long shuddering breath as he looked towards where the Tree had crumbled away into the ground and hidden itself from view, leaving behind only an impression in the snow to indicate it was ever there at all. He had gotten slow these past few years, but in his own defense, he had hardly ever been a hurried man. A steady pace always beats haste, after all. But it was clear the soldier beside him had hardly gotten slow or soft. Mateo gave him a little nod before looking up towards the sky, the bells in the air.

He'd chased those bells many times, but they had never come from anywhere. It had always seemed as if the bells rang from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Today they were ringing from a steeple. He could see it above the trees, a scar against the rapidly darkening sky. He lifted a hand to point towards it, "There's not been a church there before."

He enjoyed hearing about Makoto's daughter, he always did. They had spoken of her before and it was those conversations that made Mateo yearn both for his own father, long passed, and for a child he'd never quite settled enough to have. He would have loved to talk longer, to dwell on those gentle moments with his friend. But the Lady of the Orphanage would not stand for them waiting.

Still, he could offer one kindness, at least. "You could go back to attend the others, see to the book with the Professor." He lifts the lantern, the light spreading in a soft circle around him and castling long shadows across the snow. "It won't be my first or last time out here after dark. I know the way."

The path towards the steeple took them closer to the fenceline anyways, so he gave Makoto a small tug on the hand before setting off through the crisp snow, footsteps crunching through the thin layer of ice that coated the surface. He was carefully to not step too far ahead of his companion, always sure to keep them both well within the lantern's warm glow.

---

Location: The Grounds
Tags: Kovacs
Mention: Makoto

 

[Paperface]

Doris Martin
As per usual, Doris had proven herself to be a creature of habit with her position at the table. She had sat herself down deep into the room. A few still empty chairs separated her from the end of the dining table. It would appear to be nothing more than a matter of preference to the uninitiated. It instilled a sense of consistency which was perfectly in line with Doris' tight schedule around dinnertime. However, to Doris, it was a matter of oversight. With that chair, she had given herself a vantage point. It let her keep an eye on both doors leading into the dining hall without even turning her head. That way, she would always know which orphans were present for their meal.

It did not take long for the first children to pour into the dining hall. She had barely been able to set all the plates before the first were already present. They must have been drawn in by the scent, like bees to honey. At least, that is what Doris silently hoped to be the reason. It had to be. She put effort into her cooking, especially on Sundays. “Good evening, children,” she addressed the arrivals, swallowing down some nerves as she raised from her seat, “I... hope you have worked up an appetite throughout your studies and free time.”

“As it is Sunday, dinner is a... lamb roast with potatoes and root vegetables--” Her pale eyes reacted to the budding disruption at the table, centering onto Frida with mild annoyance. She could tell from a glance the girl was frustrated, but she could not blame her. In a way, she also felt like retreating to her room after dinner. Laying her head to rest like one of the orphans, and praying tomorrow would be a return to normalcy. However, that was not her role to play. “Frida, please stop antagonizing Oliver and eat your dinner.” She warned the girl before once more seating herself. Concluding her announcement and hoping it would suffice in staving off a repeat of the breakfast debacle.

Doris kept her gaze focused on Frida as she drank in a few moments of hopeful silence. She hoped, more than anything else at that moment, that this was the end of the disruption - that they would be able to enjoy their meal in peace. Before knowing whether they could, Doris had her attention stolen by the man who had appeared standing beside her. It was Jasper, standing there with a light smile and a tightly wrapped arm. The sight immediately brought the situation with Olivia to the front of her mind. “Yes-- Of course! Please, let me assist you,” she insisted, already getting up to pull back the chair for the injured man, “How is Olivia's condition, and yours as well--”

She had hoped to spend her attention listening to Jasper as she returned to her seat. Or, at least, getting a chance to lift up her silverware and eat. She only got as far as cutting into her meal when her ears caught not Jasper answering her but instead the dry words leaving Oliver's mouth. He appeared to have a veiled accusation to share with the table - aimed at Frida. It was not over yet, and Doris could not be more displeased about addressing the issue a second time. “Please, excuse me, Jasper,” she addressed him first, trying to keep her voice neutral before addressing the children far sterner, “Oliver, you as well! Please stop, and eat your dinner. I do not wish to repeat myself again-”

“-And Ethel, no, you may not. Please, children, sit down and eat your meal, or you will retreat to your room without one.” She said, closing the sentence with a strained sigh before returning her attention to Jasper. “I apologize, Jasper. Please, tell me what happened.” She followed, and her tone reverted to one expressing genuine concern towards the injury.

- - - - - - - - - -
Location: Dining Hall
Interaction: Frida ( Ghostiiys ), Jasper ( housegoat13 ), Oliver ( SavannahSmiles ), Ethel ( Ashy_OCdesigns )
Mentions: The orphans present

 

[Sybela]

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Gwyneira

The Telepath

Everything was quiet, too quiet. It was unusual for any voidness in noise to grace Gwyneira, but here she was, standing with her back to the bedroom door and her eyes focused on the frost that bit at the window before her. Her fingers, white at the knuckles, curled around the windowsill in a feeble attempt to keep herself grounded. With the loss of her hearing, horrible as it was, her balance had also taken a knock. Her legs wobbled a little too much when an ache splintered into her eardrum. Her hands flew out occasionally when the world axis tilted, and Gwyns' eyes chased the spin in the room, even when obscured by the darkness of her eyelids.

Gwyneira had put up a fuss the moment Mateo had entered the room hours before, clung to Cole like a newborn babe she did. Crying, sobbing even into the pretty ballerina's shoulder in an attempt to keep a distance from the older caretaker. It wasn't that he had done anything wrong; Mateo had always been a kind gentleman, but Gwyn felt a little too sensitive in the moment, and, much to her dismay, a man had come to help. If it had been Doris, Adelaide, and even Uriel, the moment would have gone smoother. The events were too raw, the foreign appendage on her face too significant and achingly symbolic of her torturous past.

She tensed under the draft of coldness, legs trembling under the ferocious stab of frost that battled its way in, tooth and nail, from the cracks in the skirting boards. It levelled her head, tore her from the nightmare threatening to spill forth and create a messy scene. She needed to fix this. Gwyn needed to build up that mental wall-- Again.

Mateo had been one of the more careful caretakers around her; his thoughts were often guarded, usually an annoying buzz akin to a bluebottle that wouldn't piss off. Gwyn had learned that whenever that drone occurred, Mateo was usually around. But there were times when he often slipped up, his thoughts projecting unguarded and, as such of a moment, when he entered Colette's bedroom, his thoughts filtered into Gwyns' head.

There had been a moment between them, just a flicker of an image from a spoken word. Monster. Gwyn still had to tell Colette about it, and with the evening dinner upon them, she wasn't sure when she'd get the time. Surely her pink friend would want to sit with Frida and Quinn; they were, after all, her best friends. The orphanage's trio reigned fear into most other orphans' hearts. Cole, however, was the nicest of the three.

Gwyn turned from her spot, lip caught between her teeth as she suckled menacingly at the trivial thoughts that entered her head-- Her poor aching head. Regardless of how she felt, it was Doris who was creating the dinner tonight and Gwyn, without a doubt, was not missing this.
She turned from her spot, leaving the snow-crusted window and exiting her room with careful steps. During the hours she had been absent, Gwyn had managed to scrub herself clean of blood, patch herself up and acquire new clothing, missing her signature gloves.

Entering the dining hall was enough to mirror the first meeting in the breakfast hall. She braced herself, yet again, against the doorframe and felt the absence of Cole dearly. She hoped the pinkette would join soon; at least then she'd have that blanket of security that soothed her. It was odd how she had come to depend on her fellow peer so much; she was her lifeline, her anchor.

The buzz in her head was as loud as bees; it was like a beacon, and she was nectar to the bees and butterflies. Still, she sat at an empty seat and sat silently. Her eyes dragged over the caretakers and students before her; their lips were moving, but...No sound reached her ears. At least she could hear bits and bobs in mind-- and, quite surprisingly, the pain wasn't too bad. Nothing compared to the morning.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Coyote]

Footprints in the snow. The soft pitter patter of boots packing the ice underneath their soles was not easily heard. But Georgie could. The very forest called out to him in whispers on the wind warning him of the oncoming trouble. He needed to act fast if he hoped to avoid the eyes of his once forgotten captors. Georgie took a step back from the fence, growing timid at Quinn’s refusal.

“I-I don’t have much time. But… I have proof. I can show you what she’s done,” Georgie slowly turned and pointed a shaky finger towards the steeple piercing through the forest canopy and into the darkening sky. “If the Caretakers find us, there won't be any hope og escape for anyone." He slipped behind some trees and beckoned Quinn to follow whilst remaining close to the trees that cloaked him from the moonlight.

 

[dontPanic]

Hank Mason

At the end of the dinner table, Hank busied himself with cutting his meat into little pieces before eating it—much like a normal person would. He was vaguely aware of the drama that was unfolding in the room, but paid little attention. It wasn’t out of the ordinary; in fact, nothing that day had been terribly out of the ordinary. Sure, the morning was a little strange, but it hadn’t amounted to anything. There was also that very obviously impromptu lesson, (Potential adoptive parent? He didn’t remember ever seeing anyone be adopted, or even adopters ever stopping by), but that was little more than a nitpick. Then again, there was still the elephant in the room.

“Abigail is in the hospital, they say—in such a condition that a house doctor wouldn’t do. Is it even possible for someone to fall that ill without showing any symptoms whatsoever the previous day? Perhaps it was some sort of physical accident. That would explain it. Though I’m not entirely sure what here could injure a person so critically.”

He chose to end his line of inquiry there. It wasn’t like he was going to get any answers; the caretakers certainly weren’t telling. It was much better to just accept what had to be accepted and enjoy the meal. So he sat, eating contentedly and in silence, nearly oblivious to what was going on around him as he savored the last few bites.

“Thank you for the meal. It was good. Please excuse me,” he declared as he stood up finally, taking a gulp of water before bringing his glass down on the table. He promptly left and made his way towards his room. Once there, he crouched down and felt underneath his bed frame until his fingers made contact with a smooth, familiar object. It was a half-empty glass bottle of golden liquid. After all, what was good food without a little drink? He stowed the bottle in his pocket and left to find a place where a caretaker was less likely to walk in on him. Unfortunately, there weren’t many of these in the orphanage for those who couldn’t shadow right out the window. One place came to mind, however, as he strolled into the foyer. He made brief eye contact with the Owner’s portrait and gave it a lighthearted nod as he passed by; the meal was setting in at this point, and he had to admit he was getting a little sleepy. “No matter,” he thought, as he made his way up the stairs.

The stairway was dark and covered with a thin film of dust. No one came here often, simply because it led to nowhere. Or, rather, it led to many places, none of which were the second floor. “Just another bit of Alice in Wonderland bullshit we’ve all become accustomed to,” he muttered sarcastically as he brushed off a place to sit. Surrealness aside, though, it wasn’t a bad place to relax. It was very peaceful, really. He procured the bottle once more and popped off the cork. Before raising it to his lips, he paused for a moment.

“This one’s to… Hmm, I’m not really sure. I guess… this one’s to five-eyed ravens, moving paintings, and the staircase to nowhere. Sure! I’ll drink to that.”

Location: Stairs

 

[CeaserXIX]

Quinn
- Woods/Fence line
- Curious and feeling a bit bold, Quinn leveled his current situation.

As the echo of bells rang softly through the woods, Quinn almost seemed to forget where he was. 'This is something I need to know', he thought to himself, though the echoing whispers called out to him, all in absolutely protest to the very notion of this situation. Though, even as his trusted guardians, he seemed to slowly attempt to drown them out, the searing pain from the black muck that dropped from his glands whenever it could, he looked over at this boy once more, ever so quietly listening to the beings words, deciding on taking an unusual risk for the boy.

"Fine, I'll follow ya'. But, I'm keepin' me distance, an' if I even smell a hint of trouble, I'm gonna leave, ya' got me," he informed Georgie, unaware of the slow descent of the sun, and not yet noticing the ever so slow climb of the moon, yet his body seemed to, his energy, despite his intense lack of sleep, seemed to perk itself up once more, finishing the cigarette he had between his fingers, drowning the burning cherry of the embers out in the snow, before putting the butt in his trouser pockets, slowly following the boy deeper into the woods, maintaining his words, watching the seemingly young, yet extremely unnerving, boy as they walked, his eyes keeping a close, clear view of Georgie, even as the light began to sink.

Coyote ​

 

[Feral]

Colette.

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Backroom Labyrinth

Colette's tall figure drifted through the doorway like a troubled ghost, cold and blank. Her eyes were darker than night dilated. Her mind felt clouded like the fog that dissipated in the early morning. A frigid, burning metal filled her veins. Scrapping her as if running a scalpel across her arms. She didn't mind.

She chewed her cheek, flesh nipped between razers as her cheeks stung. The sweet taste of her blood comforted her. Letting out a breath, trying to calm herself, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before flickering them open, boring into the heads of the people around her.

They may not see her, but they'd soon be hearing her. Stepping purposefully on a board she knew made noise, the soft creak emanating from beneath with a soft hiss.

It was strange to memorize how to boards creak and feel underneath your feet. No ordinary child would feel the need. She was Colette, and Colette wasn't normal. She was prepared.

Even now, she could imagine the grain of the wood beneath her feet. How the splinters dug into her soles like a million tiny needles, a bed of thorns beneath her, everlasting.

She avoided thinking of the dark place she barely had left behind, too raw for her mind to process or cope with. If she dared even ponder... Well... She'd scream. She'd yell. She'd shut off from the world and put her throat through the wringer. She could do all that later. Right now, all she knew was that something else was going on, something she wouldn't, No, couldn't ignore.

The fluttering feeling of being watched struck her lightly. This feeling had never been light. The emotions that 'The Other' made her feel so much worse. Barbed wire dragged across her skin, and she bit her lip, itching absentmindedly.

She couldn't dwell on this. She forced a foot forward, and a scowl of judgment lit her face. Ugh, Frida couldn't be quiet for one night, could she? She didn't spot Quinn anywhere, which meant the manchild was likely somewhere hiding out. She'd leave him be... So that just left...

Her heart softened, and the tightness choking her loosened its grip. She flexed the fingers digging into her palms and relaxed her posture so much that her shoulders didn't make her look like a long rectangle. Something almost unnoticeable.

Gwyn. Sat alone in an empty seat. Cole ached, unsteady feet bringing her before the peer that she'd come to adore so. Her diminutive figure reminded Cole of a white spotted doe. Caught by the hunters, farmers, and wolves... Well, she'd have to protect her then, wouldn't she? The thought amused her, at least.

Ma Chérie, tu vas bien? Are you Alright? Mon trésor... The tone of her projected thoughts was filled with deep worry and affection as she settled in a seat beside her companion. Have you eaten, love?

Cole was starving. The debacle in the morning with the fight and the following nightmare that ensued, well, it all but ensured she didn't eat. Cole wouldn't have been able to down lunch then, avoiding people like the plague. Even her bloodied cheek had still yet to be treated. She felt her health wasn't significant in this case. Gwyn was meaningful, just like Frida and Quinn were more important than her.

The soft feelings that blossomed when around Gwyneira filled the air like a gentle spring breeze, a scent of strawberries nipping at her nose. Though only she and Gwyn would feel the warmth, she was sure of that. Cole rested a hand on the damsel's arm gently. Her eyes softened, begging her to let go of all her problems and rely on Cole.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Kovacs]

Makoto Madiyarov

Caretaker

theme

Location

on their way to the church

Tags

Mateo Solinas

AmberV

The Owner

@Coyote

Trembling hands cupped against the bridge of his nose, Makoto blew a harsh, warm wind into them. Guided by Mateo's finger, his eyes widened at the sight of the dark wedge in the distance. A mysterious church and her bells. With each passing moment, a sharper, more insisting edge grew onto their ever continuing toll. As steady and bright as Mateo's lantern was, there was no telling what darkness lay ahead.

Makoto shook his head, hands now clasped and rubbing against each other like two sprigs in search of a spark. At times, it boiled down to the plans of only two. To stay put in the trench or to risk it all and charge forward---no, it was not even that. Book or no book, Professor or no Professor, there was no desertion between soldiers.

Little toy soldier.

He tucked a hand back into his pocket, appetite once again making itself known through a rumble, stifled by the thickness of his jacket. "Iya. You have my back. I have yours. Lead the way, Mateo-san."
A simple truth was rewarded with a simple beckoning gesture. A small tug of his other hand and off they went, the warmth of the groundskeeper's lantern and their quiet march soothing his nerves somewhat. But vigilance was kept close, finely-tuned to any and all sirens' calls of danger...

❂​

Iya. // No.​

CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER

 

[housegoat13]

CARETAKER

Character Sheet

Oddity

Injury Transfer

Location

Dining Room

Interactions

Doris

Tags

Paperface

Jasper Cummings

Before Jasper could respond, to refuse Doris’ offer, or to perhaps pull out the chair for himself before she could, the busy woman had already stood up. Jasper stepped back, fumbling to get out of her way. “Thank you...” He murmured politely, unsure of himself. He vaguely noted her question, and once he was certain he could safely sit down, he did so steadily.

“A minor sprain-” he started, before being cut off by Doris.

He followed the woman’s words, noting the brewing conflict between the children, and in response his neutral expression easily gave way to a frown. If tonight was anything like the morning, he wanted to ensure that the conflict would be short-lived.

“Olivia says she fell and landed on her wrist, while in the presence of Frida.” Jasper responded to Doris, making a small hum as he looked down onto his own wound, “Whatever happened, I felt she didn’t deserve all of it.”

He glanced up, looking towards Olivia, before his heart stilled. He caught a familiar gaze staring at him, and he made brief eye contact before dropping his head, unwilling to look at her any longer. He stared numbly at the potatoes and lifted his utensils to separate one of the bigger pieces of vegetable.

The portrait had changed, and even if he was given the opportunity to know why, he found himself not wanting the answer.

coded by natasha.

 

[AmberV]

Mateo Solinas
He didn't slow his pace, but the sound of Makoto's feet crunching through the snow behind him brought a smile to his face for just a moment. He rarely ever had company out here beyond the fence. It was a strange feeling, to know exactly what was following him this time. But it certainly wasn't an unwelcome one.

The insistent pull of the lantern led him along the fenceline for a few hundred meters before gently arcing away and deeper towards the trees. It was somewhat bright still, with the moonlight reflecting off the pure white snow and casting shadows that bounced and broke along the thick trunks.

There were parts of these woods he knew well, and the area they were passing was one of them. Quinn liked to slip away to a spot near here, a clearing that Mateo had found him holed up in many times. Quinn was a lucky lad, it seemed. A very lucky lad. He had never seen anything or, if he had, he'd never so much as let a letter slip about it to Mateo. Still, every time Mateo found him, day or night, he was careful to quickly return the boy. There was no keeping Quinn from the woods, but he could make sure the boy had a safe journey home. He didn't want to follow a set of footprints leading in one direction.

Unfortunately, it appeared he didn't have much choice. They appeared suddenly, as if from nowhere at all. That was hardly uncommon. Quinn had a habit of popping out of nowhere without a trace to show how he arrived there, so Mateo didn't worry too much. But as continued along, past the clearing, it was the second set that worried him.
No one besides himself and Quinn was usually out in these woods.

The trails led in the direction of the steeple and Mateo's pace quickened. There was the smell of burning tobacco on the breeze and the footprints had yet to collapse in from snowmelt or be filled by fresh fall. They were somewhat recent, he hoped. He prayed. It smelled like Quinn's cigarettes. He still didn't know how the boy managed to get ahold of them.

"Stay close to me, Mac." His voice was little more than a whisper and he slowed to allow his fellow caretaker to walk alongside, "And if you hear me shout to cover your eyes, do so without delay."

There were shapes in the distance, moving through the trees. They were too far to see clearly, but their destination was obvious. It towered, casting a thick black shadow across the forest. If one of them was his boy, he wanted to reach them before they even laid eyes upon the church building. Mateo raised his hand to point to the figures, two at least, and began to pick up the pace. "We need to stop them. None of the children should be out here." If only he were a younger man and could sprint through the snow to drag the children back to safety. But his hands were cold and his knees were aching and all he could manage was a jog through the deepening snow.

---

Location: The Grounds
Tags: Kovacs CeaserXIX
Mention: Makoto, Quinn

 

[Coyote]

Paperface housegoat13 mizton

The Owner is watching... you feel her... counting... searching for those unaccounted for... Someone is missing...

CeaserXIX

Georgie giggled. "We better hurry then. They'll be following us," he gave Quinn a brief smile before darting deeper into the woods. What little light remained was extinguished the moment the sprawling branches swallowed the sky. As it happened, Georgie was quick... unusually so. Glimpses of him would appear just long enough for someone to keep giving chase but the moment he was within reach, he would disappear around a tree or bush, then reappear further along the way. "This way!" he called out loudly, his voice reverberating in the space around him.

AmberV Kovacs

"This way!" a voice echoed. One that hasn't graced the Orphanage's grounds in some time. It sounded playful and for a moment, it almost sounded as if it were calling out to you. A strong gust of wind passes and the lantern light dims. It seemed as if it would go out but the embers remained, burning defiantly against the biting winds. A motion, a shuffle out of the corner of your eye but when you look, you find only branches swaying in the breeze. The darkness obfuscated your periphery and in an eerie sense, narrowed your view. The path ahead felt like the only option and the path Owner wanted to pursue. You give chase...

CeaserXIX

A hand grabs your sleeve and pulls you out of view. Georgie looked at you headlong with the same smile still stretching across his face. "We're here," he said, pointing out to a large oak with gnarled, barren limbs, reaching over a small clearing where spotted freckles of moonlight poked through. Beyond that... a towering structure overgrown with vines and roots that seemed to have eaten away at the building for some time.

"If you and I want to escape this place. We'll need to deal with the Caretakers eventually right?" Georgie said, "I think I know a way. We need to lure them into the Church. If you and I get spotted walking in, they'll follow us inside."

He steps out into the clearing and approaches the rotted doors of the Church. He looks back at Quinn for a moment, his expression serious, and takes a deep breath before saying,

"Dear old Evidna, who weeps and mourns,
remember my shadow walking through these doors."
​

Georgie then knocks and for a moment... silence. Before a voice called back.

"Dear little Georgie, who weeps and mourns,
Wipe your tears for you shall be reborn."
​

Georgie turned back to Quinn. "It's your turn. We can throw them off our trail with copies of ourselves,"

"...with copies of ourselves..."​

The doors open. From it, emerges a precise replica of Georgie. For a moment, the copy's eyes glimmered with a darkness inside its pupil, but only for a moment. When they smiled, they were identical to the last wrinkle and tooth. "Just say the words and you'll get one too. They won't tell the difference. Then, we can run back to the orphanage."