Realistic or Modern The Shadow People

[Endgame]

"Eternal life is now on my trail
Got my red glitter coffin, man, just need one last nail."
- Eternal Life, JEFF BUCKLEY​

A N T H O N Y .

There were few perks to being dead. Drifters never slept so each day blended into next one until existence felt like living one uneventful blur. They couldn't interact with the people from their former life because when they did they were either a crazed lunatic (if they told the truth) or a con artist (if they played the part of stranger instead), with both choices leaving them even more lonely and depressed in the end than they started.

And such was the life of a Drifter.

But just because they were unexpectedly cast out into limbo with no rhyme or reason didn't mean that it didn't have its advantages. For one, they could eat themselves into a gluttonous coma; two, drink themselves into oblivion; three, smoke like a freight train; and four, make questionable late night choices without ever having to wonder what venereal disease they might have caught the morning after. Anthony exploited those advantages for all they were worth knowing there would one day come a time when he wouldn't be able to remember what any of them felt like. So Anthony smoke and he drank and he picked fights knowing the consequences of those actions would only last a single night. He mocked the living by doing things every day that the living shouldn't or couldn't do. And deep down, under that facade of self-hatred and self-loathing and misery and iron-clad cynicism, Anthony enjoyed every single second of it. He relished every one of those infinitesimal and fleeting moments for all they were worth until the cruel reality of their situation came back at him like a hard resonating slap across the face.

Cole. Fucking Cole.

Despite all of its grievances and all of its perks, there was only one terrifying and sobering truth that kept each and every one of them on edge: Bedlam.

They took the disappearance of a Drifter seriously, because the unexpected departure of even just a single one of them could doom them all.

Needless to say, it put a damper on Anthony’s day.

Anthony was still eating the remains of a taco when he found himself en route back to the apartment complex having just finished thumbing a text to Jess’s timeline query: “Long enough to have Selema worried”. Delayed, as per usual. If Anthony responded to anything even remotely on time it would probably tear the fabric of the universe.

He had just finished shovelling the last bite of the taco into his mouth, utilizing all five fingers and his palm in the process, when he crossed paths with Nico and a woman. At first glance, it looked like a scene from a nineties-sitcom. Was the kid trying to pick her up or give a sales pitch for China Life Insurance? In either case, they had more pressing matters to deal with -- like the potential extinction of Seattle’s resident ghost population.

Wrapping an arm around Nico’s shoulders, Anthony fell into a casual lean.

“I think it's safe to assume you haven't seen my text yet, Nico? Who’s your friend?”

She was pretty, in that sort of doe-eyed cautiously scanning her territory for potential predators kind of way.

Extending his hand, Anthony reached out into the distance between him and Nico’s companion, “He calls me Anthony. Mind if I borrow my friend for a moment?”

When their fingers touched, it lasted only an instantaneous moment, but he felt it. He felt that pull, but even Anthony wasn't cocky enough to assume that his 'feelings' were correct.

Taking Nico aside, Anthony studied the woman over Nico's shoulder, “New Drifter?”

Maybe that explained the bemused expression on her face. Or rather, on both their faces. Nico was one of the better ones, but even as experienced as he was, a new Drifter always took them off their guard.

“Nevermind that.” Anthony dismissed. “Cole’s missing. We may need to consider sending out a search party this time. I'm heading back to the apartment. If you are confident she may be one of us bring her along. If not, she'll soon forget all about us anyways and that mystery will be solved.”

M E N T I O N S
StoneWolf18
Coyote Hart ​

 

[StoneWolf18]

As the teen introduced himself as Nico, she sighed internally. Not familiar. Nothing was familiar. It was frustrating at times, not having any memory and just a vague pull in some direction for a reason you are unable to describe. But she didn't let that show as he then added where he lived, Valoire looked a bit more confused as he added this. But she didn't get time to ask as another man walked up beside the boy, leaning on him before jumping right on into the conversation. Still rather surprised by how sudden this was, she still remained silent as he extended his hand in greeting. Accepting it, the odd look spread across her face grew as she felt the same pull that she had from the boy. But with now both of them standing together but it was considerably stronger, but still also urging her on down the road where she had been headed.

Val had been quick to pull back her hand as Anthony took Nico back a bit to speak to him, taking a step back herself still trying to process all she had currently witnessed, not all that sure whether to remain where she was or move along her way.

Coyote Hart Endgame

 

[WordArtist]

Jevaan searched Cole's apartment carefully for anything helpful. He'd been in Cole's apartment a time or two before, when the man decided to hide from the world for too long, and he vaguely recalled the apartment's layout. He started putting things back where they belonged, and with each item he returned to its proper place, he became more convinced that the wreckage hadn't been caused by someone crashing into things as if there'd been a struggle. Rather, it was definitely more akin to someone throwing things about, angrily making a mess. Items that belonged on one side of the room were found broken on the floor at the opposite side as though they'd been thrown against the wall. The bookshelves were undisturbed but for all the shelves being wiped clean, as though someone had made an angry sweep of them with one arm. His theory of a thief was starting to become more and more reasonable.

He picked a watch up off the floor and returned it to a stand on the bookshelf where he thought he remembered seeing it once before. Both had fallen a short distance from the shelves, and it was a simple matter to put them right. He looked over the gold band for a moment curiously. He didn't remember Cole ever wearing it, and he wondered briefly if it had been a gift that he didn't appreciate. He glanced at the brand on the watch's face.

Rolex. Jevaan froze. Surely a thief would have taken the watch. He looked around again. With the place still in disarray, it was hard to tell if anything else might be missing. He quickly set about straightening the apartment to its fullest, putting everything back as well as he could remember it. Items he didn't remember, he put on the kitchen table; it had been bare originally anyway.

When he was finished, Jevaan stood in the center of the main room and turned slowly to examine it. That he could tell, nothing was missing. Everything looked exactly as he remembered it. The Rolex wasn't the only thing of value in the apartment - although it was the most obvious thing - yet none of the items that could be easily carried were missing. Either the thief was an idiot... or this wasn't done by a thief.

Jevaan frowned, but he didn't feel the unhappiness that he depicted. Instead, it was a unique sense of elation that visited him. Two theories down, and one of them far more dangerous than the other. Unfortunately, that left only two more that he could think of: Either Cole had faded, or he'd run off somewhere. The former was definitely the most probable, but Jevaan couldn't rule out the latter.

In the process of putting the apartment back in order, Jevaan had found an unusual scrap of paper. He pulled it from his pocket, now, and stared at it. "It's a wave," Jevaan muttered aloud as he read it from the paper. He turned the scrap over, found it blank on the back, and righted it again in his hands.

He was interrupted from his scrutiny by Jess' return. "Scratching?" he repeated back to her. "Odd." He handed her the note he'd been studying when she entered. "I ruled out two theories and have two remaining. Thankfully, this favors the least problematic of the two, but I haven't any idea what it means. I don't suppose you do either," he said.

Jevaan set about examining Cole's apartment again, now that it was mostly intact once more, this time listening for any strange sounds. For the moment, he heard nothing. If he was honest with himself, he really didn't know what he was listening for. What kind of scratching? He didn't see any signs that Cole kept an animal, so he doubted that was the problem. He looked over the room for any sign of clawing anywhere... scratched paint, chipped wood, anything of that sort. Although he'd already been through the closets and found nothing of particular interest, he opened them again to be on the safe side, examining the floor and walls for anything unusual. Scratching? He went back and, as an afterthought, checked the ceiling in each room as well. Was it even important? He didn't know.

 

[Coyote Hart]

Nico felt rather than saw Anthony walk behind him and put his arm over his shoulder. He had been waiting anxiously for the woman to make a reply, give a sign, anything, but all he saw was confusion. Good job, Anthony, interrupting my conversation. If this Anthony and not some other dude.

He heard Anthony voice a question, and it confirmed his suspicions that it was Anthony putting his arm over his shoulder and not some random hobo trying to get a bit of cash out of him.

"Text?" Nico asked, "My phone's silenced."

Nico took out his phone with the hand unburdened with carrying his guitar case, and sure enough, he received a text in the group chat.

With his free hand, Nico saw Anthony reach over to the woman, shaking her hand. It was then Nico noticed the woman's facial expression. Confusion. This signified that the woman was most definitely a Drifter. There was nothing confusing about a handshake unless she felt the pull for Drifters to band together.

Almost before he could finish his thought, he was dragged away by Anthony. Nico opened his mouth to protest, but then deciphered the emotion in Anthony's voice. Tenseness. Something had happened.

So instead of yelling child abuse, which would have been out of place, Nico patiently listened to Anthony's announcement, one eyebrow raised in surprise, and internally shocked. Cole. Gone. The first thing Nico could think was that he Faded. Never to be seen again as a human, but a monster who had lost all morality. Or worse. Someone had dragged him off and fed him to the Bedlam.

His mind worked quickly to create a plan, then he spoke.

"I'm fairly certain that the woman is one of us," Nico replied, "I'll be taking her along. Where are the others?"

He then noticed a strange sensation on his shoulder. Nico reached over and felt that area of his shoulder, and was surprised to feel it greasy. He looked at his fingers and sniffed carefully. Mexican food? The crap?

Nico then glanced at Anthony, "Taco sauce? Have you been gorging on tacos?"

He pulled on the shoulder of his shirt and looked at it. Indeed, there was a handprint of taco sauce where Anthony put his hand.

"Whatever," Nico sighed, releasing his shirt, "I don't want to know. I'll check back at the apartment to see if anyone on the street nearby has seen Cole."
StoneWolf18 Endgame

 

[KingofAesir]

J E S S.
"People die. It's normal."

Here's the thing, Jess hated when Drifters faded. Hated when they had to investigate every nook and cranny of that Drifters life to make sure that's what happened. But this was....this was different. Ussally it was easy to find if someone had faded and then the task would revert to trying to dispatch of the resulting Bedlam. That's what she hated most, having to distinguish all that was left of a former friend. Jess, in her Drifter lifetime, had only ever seen two Bedlams actually poof out of exsistance and they were events she'd rather not discuss. Ever.

Jess plucked the piece of paper from Jevaan's hands and plopped down on a newly righted couch as he prowled around again for more clues or what have you. She flipped the paper over in her hands and frowned, what is that supposed to mean? "Yes, both of them said they just assumed it was mice." Jess said, reffering yo the scratching thing. She took a cookie from the bag Leah had given her and took a bite, shoving the bag back in her pocket.

"The hell does 'it's a wave' mean?" Jess asked flipping over on the couch so that her head was hanging off the seat and her legs rested against the backrest. "Sounds like something Skye or her hippy boss guy would write." Jess grinned and did a sort of meditation movement with her fingers pressed together. "Life's a wave, man, you just gotta go with it. It's a wave." Jess said in her best mellow hippy voice as she shoved another but of the cookie in her mouth.

Jess did this when she was afraid or worried, tried to pass of her fear with humor. It worked most times but it didn't feel quite like it would today. Jess sighed, watching an upside down Jevaan searching the apartment. "No scratch marks? Maybe the were hearing something or somebody scratching something that wasn't the walls? Like...." Jess reached for the coffee table in front of her and ran her nails along the wood, effectively making a scratching sound. "Like that."

The note in her hand caught her interest again, "But what does this mean? Seems kinda weird to me. Not exactly a grocery list." Jess made a face and attempted to keep her hanging hair from touching the carpet and failed, "You think Cole wrote this or somebody else?" She couldn't imagine who but it could be a possibility because she doubted Cole would do this to his own apartment.

Tags/Mentions​

WordArtist Kennedy

 

[WolfSol]

Haloes Havana Grey
' There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so ,
-William Shakespeare, Hamlet
■■■■■■■■■
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Haloes

​

Budeuleoum the Queen

​

​

She should've felt it. She should've known. Hell, she should've seen it coming. It wasn't like her to miss the small things, and it certainly wasn't like her to dwell on the "could have" and "what if" scenarios. It wasn't "Hal." At least, it wasn't now. Then again death did funny things, and by funny... it was torturous, spontaneous, combustible snippets of sick, humanly horror. She'd realized years ago how painful it was to be emotional. Emotions were exhausting, but it didn't stop her today. It didn't stop her in this moment from feeling the urge to ask. Surely she'd heard wrong. Yes, she'd been too distracted by the fact that her cellphone was on the verge of a dramatic death due to her forgetfulness.

The woman that stood before her, clad in pink house slippers and a rather risque robe of shiny material, wrung her fingers nervously. Bony keys, those fingers, and for a moment Haloes couldn't help but stare.

"D-Dear?" She'd blinked, even went as far as to shake her head as she finally met the woman's gaze.

She'd almost made it to Myer's house with the white siding, red roof, and red shutters, but the nosy neighbor that lived closest to his abode had intercepted her. It was regrettably a normal occurrence. The woman fancied gossip to the point where she would confront every soul that wandered across the sidewalk by her house.

"Did you hear me," her voice reminded Haloes of broken keys on a piano, "about Myer?" Haloes didn't reply. She had heard, but she'd somehow chosen to not understand. The nosy woman took the brief silence as a no, "The ambulance came a few hours ago for him... he-he shot himself, they say. Suicide."

Haloes nodded slowly, cleared her throat, and asked the most childish of questions that would hopefully ever come from her mouth, "Is he dead?" Although she felt the emotion, something like sadness or maybe pity, it clearly hadn't shown well in her tone. The nosy neighbor's nervousness depleted and her doe-eyed gaze narrowed. Haloes half expected the woman to slap her upside the head, but instead she turned away and shuffled onto her lawn.

The absence of company was immediately welcomed, and Haloes took the opportunity to flee as well. She hadn't known her little apartment community before death, and she had little to no recollection or feelings for those who haunted her past life. For a Drifter, it was akin to common sense to acquaint with other Drifters. It was a sick and odd form of unconditional love. Yet there was no true desire to mingle with the living unless there was a purpose, at least for her. Myer and the other handful of her clients were the exception, her small purpose in life after death. Sure, it was for money, but she'd made connections whether intended or not.

Death was easy to handle on her own, when it had to do with her and Drifters, but death of someone she knew was completely and irrevocably different.

 

[Endgame]

"Bite chunks out of me. You're a shark and I'm swimming​

My heart still thumps as I bleed. And all your friends come sniffing."​

- Tessellate, ALT-J


​

"The others are presumably heading back to the apartment like we should. She doesn't say much, does she?" Anthony said still gazing over Nico's shoulder ignoring the latter half of the Drifter's questions.

If Anthony took note of Nico's revulsion to the mess he left on the shoulder of teen's shirt, it wasn't made evident by the expression on his face. Instead, finally looking away from the woman and back in the direction of the apartment complex, Anthony lit a cigarette.

Spoken louder than his earlier comments to Nico, Anthony paced back towards the woman in an effort to herd the trio towards the Drifter residence. "There is a burritos stand along the way if either one of you are hungry. I'd suggest trying the sweet potato burrito." Then, as an afterthought, he added almost defensively, "Don't knock it until you try it. Trust me. It is nearly twice as good as what you might imagine."

If Anthony wasn't eating, he was smoking. If he wasn't smoking, he was eating. Anthony was in such a perpetual state of either inhaling or consuming something -- sometimes both, when possible -- that if there was a text book example of oral fixation, it would be him.

Sigmund Freud had a theory about this, but the details of this theory would have horrified Anthony.

"So, how's your head? Jumbled, achy, a little foggy for words? At least you came to clothed. Some of us aren't that lucky. That is, I'm assuming you woke up clothed."

He watched Val's face for a shifting tide of emotions, some sort of hint to determine what stage of the mourning process she was in -- denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Denial was always the fun part to watch, like witnessing a group of anti-vaxxers at a CDC convention. Maybe she wasn't quite at the mourning phase yet, still stepping out from the fog (both figuratively and literally) back into reality. Anthony remembered what that felt like -- right before being thrown into the drunk tank along with the rest of Seattle's dipsomaniacs.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke off to the side, uncharacteristically courteous to those who knew him better. Civility wasn't one of his more noteworthy qualities; Nico and the rest could attest to that.

"None of this is making sense, I'm sure. Don't worry, it will. And when it does, you'll be wishing for the amnesia to return. Trust me, right now is probably the peak of the rest of your life. Well, not life, existence. You'll get my point. Shall we?"

 

[Coyote Hart]

Anthony seemed to be rushed, and Nico didn't blame him. Cole's life was in danger. To be completely honest, Nico always had a soft spot for the British dude. So without saying a word, Nico followed

He noticed that Anthony immediately decided to refer to the woman as a Drifter, and was appalled. Did people seriously trust his judgment so much?

"You know, I hope that I didn't misjudge," Nico said to the woman, "You do have a shadow form, right? You turn into some cool looking monster thing when you step into the dark?"

Nico then looked around him, afraid that people had overheard him. By no chance was Nico's voice loud, but if someone were to be eavesdropping, they would have thought that he, Anthony, and the woman were insane. And he didn't want that to be the case. Fortunately, not many people were out.

"Well, me and Anthony have got to do some work," Nico said, "A friend of our's has gone missing. If you are one of us, you should join us to the apartment. You probably have no money or anywhere to live, I presume?"

Nico then internally slapped himself. He was making too many assumptions! One, that the woman was even a Drifter. Chances are, she was some random person with amnesia just walking around. Second off, what if the woman did have a home in Seattle and he didn't know of it? Whatever. What's said is said.

He started walking backward toward the apartment complex, motioning for the woman and Anthony to follow. Better waste no time. A Drifter could be Fading. And the dog damned heat out here was just unbearable!
StoneWolf18 Endgame

 

[StoneWolf18]

Things were happening incredibly fast and she was having a bit of trouble keeping up.

First, Anthony had both of them follow as he kept speaking. Asking if they were both hungry and that there was a burrito stand on the way to apparent apartment they were heading towards. Valoire's expression still hadn't changed, although a slight frown began to work its way onto her lips to accompany it as she realized that the idea of food or eating in general hadn't occurred to her. That definitely wasn't natural. "I'm... alright..." She would respond hesitantly, still trying to wrap her head around yet something else she wasn't understanding.

Then he continued to ask about how she was feeling, basically describing the sensation much better than she expected herself to. "Yes, to both I suppose." Truth be told the last few days had been such a blur, it was difficult to tell.

Finally he finished with explaining the extremely obvious of it not making the slightest bit of sense. It didn't, none of it. Even as he said she would wish for the amnesia to return, it wouldn't be better then it knowing, would it?

Then Nico began to speak, explaining that he hoped he hadn't misjudged her before asking if she had a... shadow form? "I suppose I haven't really noticed..." And she hadn't, but now she'd pay a bit more attention.

Valoire nodded as Nico added his final question. "I don't although I wouldn't want to get in the way of your search..." trailing off here, it then occurred to her that she hadn't introduced herself. "My name is Valoire, by the way."

By now, it could easily be seen that she had visibly and audibly relaxed somewhat, most likely due to the others around her to seemed to be much more knowledgeable on her situation than herself. Or... it could be purely subconsious as the pull she felt towards the two was moderately strong and growing in the direction they headed.

Endgame Coyote Hart

 

[WordArtist]

Jevaan frowned as he propped himself on the corner of the coffee table. It had become a habit for him to express whatever emotion he thought he should be feeling in a given moment, especially if he didn't feel anything. When it came to unpleasant situations, he usually got it close to right. "If they chalked it up to mice, it was probably coming from inside the walls, not in the room... and it probably was mice," he said dryly. "Doesn't that girl next door do a lot of baking? Maybe she has a problem there." Suddenly, the scratching sound seemed unimportant to their current predicament. "Maybe the sound bothered him," he concluded with an absent sort of dismissal in his tone. "I'll call pest control a bit later." By 'a bit later', he meant after they'd found Cole... for better or worse.

Gesturing to the paper in Jess' hands, he said, "I can't really picture Cole getting into that sort of nonsense, but maybe he decided to try something new." He sounded unconvinced, but the possibility was there. Drifters who could feel themselves beginning to fade sometimes got desperate for something - anything - to keep them going. Something new and unusual - even unorthodox or outrageous - wasn't uncommon, especially in young drifters who were just beginning to realize what was in store for them if they didn't make the most of their second chance at life. Cole... wasn't that guy, at least to Jevaan's mind. Cole was already too far gone to get desperate.

Jevaan declined to voice his thoughts aloud and instead opted to stand again. "The handwriting looks like his, if his state ID is any indication," he said. "His wallet is still here," he added grimly, "in his room where it belongs. It was one of the few things that wasn't out of place, oddly. I can't say for sure, but it would be my guess that he wrote that note himself." He didn't state the obvious fact that this somehow made the situation even more confusing than it had been before.

After a momentary pause, Jevaan conceded, "I suppose it couldn't hurt to ask Skye what she thinks about it. It may end up being a dead-end, but at the very least, it weeds out one possibility." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger for a moment as he spoke before dropping his hand back to his side. "Beyond that, I'm at a loss," he admitted. "The next best thing to do is hit the streets... see if we can find him before nightfall. It will be considerably more dangerous to be looking for him after dark."

 

[KingofAesir]

J E S S.
"Let there be destruction."

Jevaan had dismissed Jess' example of scratching the table leg and she assumed he was right about the inside of the walls thing. She hadn't thought about that. She doubted they had nice though, Leah might bake a lot but she was a clean freak when it came to her home, every nook and cranny was always dusted and shiningly clean. Just another thing to occupy her time.

Ace hated rodents and would do all in his power to keep the away or kill them, so if they had mice Cole's neighbors would probably be a little more to keep them away. That had Jess thinking they didn't really think it was nice or Leah would have mouse traps all over the damn place. She shook her head, she didn't care about the damn mice thing why was she making it such a big deal? Jess' attention moved back to Jevaan as he spoke of Cole's wallet and his ID signature matching the note handwriting.

"Okay, so that definitely means he didn't just up and leave and decided to trash his apartment while he was at it. He would've at least taken his wallet with him." Jess stared at the note once more, flipping it over and over in her hands. "Damnit, I don't like this, Jevaan. This has never happened before." Jess groaned and let her hands fall back behind her head to the carpet. If she had a heart beat blood would probabkh be rushing to her head right about now.

The suggestion of going out looking for him had Jess frowning, eyebrows creasing to the middle of her forehead. The thought of going out and looking for Cole and running into something.....that was not him anymore made her shiver. But, being the group oriented person she was, she supposed she'd be fine if the rest of the gang came along. So Jess nodded,"That's probably the best idea." There was a brief moment of silence before Jess spike up again,"Jevaan, what are we gonna do if we can't find him? I mean, with the way this place is, it's highly unlikely he faded. This is Drifter buffet for gods sake." She didn't say any more, she didn't want to say anymore. The thought of something being out there that could scare a Bedlam away chilled her to the bone.

Tags​

WordArtist

 

[WolfSol]

Haloes Havana Grey
' There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so ,
-William Shakespeare, Hamlet
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Haloes

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Budeuleoum the Queen

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​

The walk back to the only place she called home was dreadful. Incredibly bleak to the point where it felt like the skin on her bones was wet paper, cold and clinging. She'd taken the long way back home, eyes downcast as she trudged through the numbness. It wasn't particularly sadness, no, she was sure of that. It was more or less the apathy. At least, that's what she told herself. Emotions were burdensome and, in her case, could lead to terrible, terrible things. The mere thought of fading made her visibly shiver as the apartment finally came into view.

The sight of it was somewhat comforting, but it did little to dwell the burning turmoil within her. You're being over dramatic, Hal. Yes, that was probably so, but a part of her thirsted for it. Emotion and all that defined "living" was a rarity. Hell, it was better than the bitter taste of her 10-shots-of-espresso-coffee.

She'd made a beeline for her room with a ghostly pace, dragged feet that made no sound and the look of vacancy. Why'd it have to be Myer? Her fingers were heavy as she fumbled with the key, dropping it twice before she successfully opened the door. The felines of her domain greeted her, a chorus of meows brushing over her like a cool summer breeze. She took their warm welcome with a smile, something that resembled a crack in ice. All emotion or lacktherof vanished in an instant, such was the magic of the fluff.

Each feline was greeted with a hug, a kiss, and something akin to baby-talk. The baby-talk was rusty, but her cats took it in stride. Budeuleoum was the last, and she showed her dismay with retrieving such affections later than the others with a rumbling meow. "Oh hush, Queen B." Hal grunted, sweeping the large cat up in her arms as she shuffled across the small room to her phone charger. She'd only placed Budeuleoum down momentarily to plug her phone in before picking her back up like one would pick up a baby. Then with a cat in her arms she made for the beloved Mr. Coffee shoved in the corner counter beside the sink of her kitchen.

The task with a large cat in hand and juggling coffee mix and filters simultaneously was difficult, but Haloes was talented. She draped the Queen over her shoulders like a drape, rubbing the fluff sporadically as she tended to the water level and ground coffee mix. "Want to read Hamlet with me again?" She received a purr in return as she cranked up the coffee pot's heat. She would've lingered there, by the Mr. Coffee, if it weren't for the sudden eruption of notifications from her cellphone.

It sputtered atop the nightstand, its vibrations so abrupt and hard that it danced off the edge and crashed to the floor. The cats scattered at the commotion, Budeuleoum pushing off Hal's shoulder frantically in unison.

Odd... it wasn't like her to get so many notifications... she raised a brow as she ambled to the fallen device. With a sigh she crouched down, swiping the screen quickly only to see even more depressing news. Well, then again... Cole was always a distant and odd fellow. Something like a hermit. Still, for Anthony to be worried...

"Anyone hear from him...? -H"

 

[WordArtist]

Jevaan couldn't hear Jess' internal monologue. Had he been able to, the direction of their discussion may have been dramatically altered. Despite having been in the complex for more years than he could remember, he did not know the other tenants well. Unless he was given some sort of warning that one of them might be in danger - or become a danger - he rather left them alone... and they preferred it that way. Jess knew them considerably better than he, and he found himself wondering - only briefly - whether her momentary silence was a result of her unvoiced thoughts or whether she simply couldn't think of anything to say in the moment. He dismissed it. Jess rarely kept her mouth shut about what she was thinking. It would be strange for her to start now, wouldn't it?

He shook his head after a thoughtful pause of his own and finally said, "Unless he decided to get out of Seattle and start over somewhere else," unconvincingly. It didn't take long for most drifters to discover that Seattle felt too much like home for any of them to want to leave it for long. "Either way, let's talk to--"

Jevaan was cut off by the soft chime of his phone once again politely informing him that he'd received a text message. Knowing full-well that it wouldn't be from Cole, he sighed with mild irritation and quickly read the message. He relaxed a bit. Of all the people to be checking in, he was pleased - or as pleased as he could manage to be - to see that it was Hal. He quickly tapped back a response to the group: "In his apartment w/Jess. Haven't heard from him, but something odd. Come tell what you think."

He nodded toward Jess as he said, "Hal, checking in about Cole," to give Jess the heads-up about the notification she must also have received. He slotted his phone back in his pocket before continuing, "Let's talk to Skye. Much as I hate to admit it, this sounds exactly like something she'd say. Maybe she'll have some ideas."

KingofAesir WolfSol Endgame Coyote Hart StoneWolf18 Kennedy Mage_Clawhammer (Text sent to everyone, trying to gather everyone to one place.)

 

[KingofAesir]

J E S S.
"I'm just a poor girl. Nobody loves me!"

Jess smiled when Jevaan mentioned Hal and slid her phone out to see the text message for herself. She was greeted by a plain black screen and the realization she hadn't charged it the night before. Jess huffed indignantly and shoved it back in her pocket. She retrieved her bag of cookies to drown her annoyance in chocolate. It worked pretty well.

"I don't even know where Skye is. She wasn't here when I got home and neither was Logan. Their probably at her work or something." Jess shrugged best she could upside down. Jess didn't understand Skye's liking of Logan but, she'd never question her about it. Jess was mature enough to understand that her friends could like people she didn't. It seemed that happened a lot because Jess was..... hyper-active and people didn't like that.

"Maybe Hal'll have some idea what "it's a wave" means." She grinned, letting her hands fall to the floor again. It's not that Jess didn't like Jevaan, she did, Hal was one of the few people that genuinely seemed to like her too. Which was a rarity Jess had learned to accept. Jevaan was all old and cranky, she annoyed him and she knew it. Jess didn't bother sitting up straight, she just let herself hang there in waiting for Hal.

Tags​

WordArtist WolfSol

 

[Endgame]

"Here's the pride before the fall
Oh, your eyes, they show it all."
- No One's Here To Sleep, NAUGHTY BOY
​

A N T H O N Y .

Well, it appeared she passed the test; she wasn't hungry. Although a perceived lack of hunger didn't exactly serve as conclusive evidence that Nico's newfound friend was indeed one of the walking dead. It was just as likely she had just finished binge-eating a McDonald's Big Mac meal and possessed rather an apparent lack of room to further engorge oneself as opposed to lacking the desire to eat entirely.

At the very least, it could be said that Anthony had tried to help. 'Tried' being the key word. As far as Anthony was concerned, he had done his good deed for the day – two good deeds if he was counting sending out a group message over Cole. Figuring out from this point forward whether or not Valoire was one of them was now Nico's problem. Anthony was just along for the ride. If she wasn't what they thought she was, she would soon likely forget all about them and simply return to a state of complete blissful unawareness. Just one of the many perks of being human – like not having to worry about the Bedlam; or rather, more specifically, becoming one.

As if on cue, Anthony's phone vibrated in his pocket.

Instead of retrieving it from the confines of his jeans, he proceeded to give Nico a knowing look and waited for the kid to narrate the message for him.

This look hardened when it vibrated a second time.

Both Anthony and Nico were aware that Anthony had no intention of reading the messages when someone else could do the work for him.

"You won't be in the way of our search." Anthony finally said dismissively to Valoire, flicking the expired cigarette onto the ground. "Nico's maybe, but I plan on letting everyone else do the work. I'm just the messenger."

They were about a block away from the apartment.

The uneasiness settled in his stomach about as well as a lead brick.

Anthony would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little concerned that their resident hermit had gone AWOL. If only for but purely a self-preservation standpoint.

M E N T I O N S
StoneWolf18
Coyote Hart ​

 

[WolfSol]

Haloes Havana Grey
' There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so ,
-William Shakespeare, Hamlet
■■■■■■■■■
​

Haloes

​

Flaugmig the Beast

​

​

Of all the people, she wasn't expecting Jeevan to buzz her back, and in such quick succession. A part of her wanted to drown in the depths of human empathy, but she was kidding herself. Even though it had been a passing of exactly five seconds, the apathy of a Drifter had returned, which meant that there no more time or reason to "feel sorry." She sat Budeuleium on the floor, the large cat giving an indignant mew as it scurried away with the others, and glanced at the phone one last time before pocketing it. Damn cell batteries, it had died at 10%, and had barely charged up to 12% but it would have to do.

She left her room in a hurry, parting with the felines and the freshly brewed pot of coffee. The thought that this had better be good crossed her mind briefly, but she shook it off as a childish reply. Her coffee and cats could wait... just this once.

Haloes walked briskly, purposefully, and paused only once to gaze at Cole's apartment door's plaque. The door was ajar and from her spot at the door she could hear Jess' bubbling chatter. Yet it was different than the usual and the recognition of the lack in Jess' normal tone made her tilt her head. It was likely nothing, perhaps Jess was still bothered by having been left alone or Cole really was stuck between a rock in a hard place.

"Sorry," Hal pushed the door in, slipping in the newly apartment before closing the door behind her, "my phone's been dead all day." As she spoke, her gaze swam over the contents of Cole's room. She'd never actually been inside Cole's apartment before, but it wasn't a surprise to find everything reeking of semi-order. There were still a few articles and items strewn about, objects on shelves not exactly straight, and frames tilted haphazardly to one angle. "Is Cole missing again? This isn't news though..." she acknowledged Jeevan with a glance before settling her attention on Jess and the bag of cookies.

Without a word she crossed the expanse of the main room and held out a silent, pleading hand. If it wasn't cats and coffees then it was cookies.

KingofAesir WordArtist

 

[Coyote Hart]

"Well, nice to meet you, Valorie," Nico said, then sighed and glared at Anthony for being a lazy bastard before taking out his phone and checking his messages. Yep, he received a message, so he proceeded to read it off, "Hal is wondering if we've seen any sign of Cole."
Rapidly poking at buttons on his phone, Nico sent a message back to the group, "Just got the news, I'll be @ apartment in a few"
He sent the text, then at second thought, added in, "BTW, might have found a new Drifter" then accidentally clicked the 'delete draft' button, and in frustration at his flip phone, tossed his phone at the ground, knowing that his Nokia wouldn't break.
After he retrieved his phone back, he told Anthony, "Well, if this is the most you're going to help us with, you might as well go and smoke some crack or something to await results."
In his mind, he said to himself, Lazy bastard.
"Alright, Valorie, let's go," Nico said as they approached the apartment. Instead of going toward the front entrance, he swerved to the right, toward the side stairwell. The stairwell lacked light due to the fact that the light bulbs in there had long been dead, and the darkness of the stairwell was the perfect place to test if Valorie was indeed a Drifter.
StoneWolf18 Endgame

 

[StoneWolf18]

Valoire let her eyes flick between the two as they spoke back and forth, getting the idea that Anthony wasn't the type to get his hands dirty even when someone was missing. Granted she didn't know who the person was and who they were to the man, but it still irked her slightly as he had Nico take out his phone and read the text out loud for him. Trying her best not to let this show, she simply followed until the apartments came into view, the building saturated in the pull she was feeling. Continuing after the teen, she was a bit surprised as they veered off and went towards an until stairwell rather than the front door. Unexpected, yes, but she didn't really think of much of it.

Not right now at least.

Endgame Coyote Hart

 

[WordArtist]

Jevaan was not one to waste time. The short interval between "Message Sent!" and Hal's arrival was spent wandering the apartment in search of anything he'd missed in his first several walks through. As expected, he found nothing new. He'd been thorough in his previous examinations, and additional scrutiny was unlikely to yield further information. He knew that... but it was better than waiting.

Hal's voice caught - and kept - his attention. Rather than the bag of cookies, it was something else in Jess' hand to which he gestured. "Tell me what you think of that," he demanded in a not-so-congenial tone as he noted the paper still dangling from her fingers near the floor. He waited, foot tapping impatiently on the living room carpet. Jevaan wasn't good at waiting. Worse than that, he tended to make everyone around him uncomfortable about waiting, too. It was a contagious sort of anxiety that fell on the room like a wet blanket and made the wait feel terribly heavy to bear. He didn't seem to notice; being drifters, maybe they wouldn't either.

The chime of his phone earned a rare snarl from the man. He ignored it. If he was the least bit honest, he didn't particularly care what anyone else thought of the strange note. Hal and Skye - for what little he thought her opinion might be worth - were the only two he envisioned having any idea what the note could mean. More bodies would help with a street search, but he didn't think that the others would have much to add.

Jevaan gave Hal just enough time to look over the note before saying, "It appears to be Cole's handwriting, but he doesn't seem the type. Any ideas?"

 

[WolfSol]

Haloes Havana Grey
' There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so ,
-William Shakespeare, Hamlet
■■■■■■■■■
​

Haloes

​

Flaugmig the Beast

​

​

Awkward wasn't quite in Hal's vocabulary... it was more so dysfunctional events and mannerisms rather than a bout of awkwardness. However, she really would have liked to have taken a cookie or two, but she caught on quickly. Jeevan was worried, in his own special way, and he was likely walking on little to no patience. She took it in her best interest to oblige, raising a brow as she plucked the paper from Jess' grasp. The writing scrawled across the paper reminded her just how awful her handwriting was. It's a wave. Well, that was... she turned the paper in her hand.

For a moment she thought to question Jeevan's reasoning. Was it really Cole's because it sounded like a phrase Skye would say. She would've audibly said that if it weren't for Jeevan's incessant foot tapping. Although she didn't stray from the possibility of, "What if you all are stumbling on a Red Herring? Cole isn't the type to share so how do we now know that this kind of thing is normal?" She posed the question before turning to Jess once more, offering a hand in a silent question. "Besides, if it does mean something then it could either be a song lyric... or a metaphor."

A metaphor for what exactly? She drew her hand back and eyed Jeevan. For a Drifter, it didn't hurt to ask what came to mind, but she was hesitant. The Fade was painful to hear, just the word and nothing else. In addition, it always tasted like burnt bread on her tongue. "How close was he, to Fading I mean? Was he getting into those drugs that Skye is all about?" She threw in the last bit to get rid of the sudden cold that rippled through the apartment. It did little to calm the sudden uproar of omens and tension, and Hal continued, "I guess first, what is a wave? A wave is never-ending, eternal... it's changed by the moon. Influenced by gravity and wind. A wave can also be akin to a wall, emotional or physical."

Perhaps she was thinking too much into it now, but... she shrugged , sighed.

KingofAesir WordArtist

 

[KingofAesir]

J E S S.
"I'm not terrible enough to wish bad things upon my enemies."

Jess grinned wide as Hal entered the room, flipping around right on the couch. She watched as Hal looked around the now semi-clean room. She narrowed her eyebrows at Hal as she approached, something was off. She couldn't quite put her finger on it and it made the smile on her face drop. It took a few seconds for Jess to register that Hal had stuck her hand out and Jess stared at it before feeling Jevaan's gaze burning into hee hand. Jess shoved the paper into Hal's.

That nagging feeling that something was wrong didn't go away as Hal looked over the paper. Piercing blue eyes stayed locked on the other's face. Maybe it was nothing, maybe she was just being paranoid because of the whole Cole thing. But... oh fuck it. Jess opened her mouth to ask Hal what was the matter when Jevaan's interrupted her. Jess crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Jevaan to finish so she could talk. Jess sat there silent like a chastised child until Hal answered Jevaan's question.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Jess asked, eyebrows knitting together and her head coking slightly to the side like a confused puppy. Hal looked like someone had died. Died. That was it! Had someone died? Jess hoped if they had that whoever it was didn't end up... here. She could never wish this upon anyone. Ever.

WolfSol WordArtist ​

 

[Endgame]

"There's no end, there is no goodbye​

Disappear with night."​

- Wait, M83​

A N T H O N Y .

Nico directed them to the side staircase.

Clever kid.

Anthony never really gave Nico enough credit. But being undead for nearly fifty-years had a way of testing one's intelligence. The dumb ones never lasted long; if they didn't fade immediately, they were Bedlam bait before the end of their first year.

At the top of the staircase a light flickered erratically, casting black ominous shadows about a nondescript cement staircase. For four floors it went up and for one floor it went down. There was a double pane window at the third floor covered in a quarter-century worth of dirt and dust. If they had a superintendent, it would have been fixed, along with the light, eventually. But Park 3025 hadn't seen a building manager in nearly twelve-years and none of its resident haunts were volunteering. In summary, the staircase of Park 3025 was decrepit and sketchy. If Valoire wasn't a drifter, she was dangerously trusting – and certifiably naive – for a human. In his previous life, Anthony would have taken one look at the dank rusted staircase and noped his way on out of there. (He made that mistake once, in his formative years, and found himself in a crack den with a knife wielding maniac. That was the first and last time he took his brother's advice about Seattle). But if she was indeed a drifter, the only threat to one's survival was the one thing they were worried Cole might have turned into. Any harm outside of that was little more than a paper cut for their kind.

With a wave of his hand, Anthony gestured for Valoire to follow Nico up the long dimly lit flight of stairs. It was undeniably that her presence had managed to pique his interest. There hadn't been a new drifter in Seattle in nearly five years.

The door closed and they were cast into darkness.

His steps fell silent.

The staircase, quiet.

Anthony melded into the blackness.

Shifting had never quite lost its grim fascination. It happened so abruptly and flawlessly, like a cuttlefish camouflaging to its environment, that it was hard to sense precisely when it happened. There was no internal trigger. No tingling sensation or electric static. One minute utterly corporeal. The next completely immaterial. They melted and merged with the darkness and reformed at the other side out from the primordial sea.

He stood at the top of the staircase, the scintillating halogen making his human form fade in and out like bad reception.

Now was the test...

Would she scream?

M E N T I O N S ​

StoneWolf18
Coyote Hart​

 

[WordArtist]

Jevaan sighed with impatience as Jess skipped over the issue of Cole's note and instead directed her attention to a different topic entirely: Hal's well-being. A Drifter had gone missing, and Jess was playing psychologist to one of the most emotionally-distant individuals in the local community. Where exactly were her priorities? Surely, if she wanted to toy with psychology, she could do it someplace else with someone else and some other time!

Rather than showing his impatience further, however, Jevaan paused a moment and considered. Jess was more observant than he, and she knew her peers better than he did as well. She wasn't always as slow as she seemed, and after so many years of watching drifters through her unusually-emotional outlook - unusual for a drifter, anyway - she had likely developed a strange insight into the psychology of a drifter's mind. If she thought something was wrong, something was probably wrong.

Jevaan had never been one to hide the fact that he had his favorites, and Hal was certainly one of them. Though he did not know her well - and all the better, he thought - he respected her opinions. She thought logically about things, offered possibilities that he might not have thought of, and still had some insight into those things called emotions that Jevaan had lost long ago... without letting them cloud her judgment. Hal's well-being was actually rather important to him, particularly in circumstances like these. He needed her head in the game, not lost in another world of thoughts, distracted by an internal monologue that he could neither hear nor understand. Perhaps, for once, it would do him some good to patiently listen.

And so he did... with as much patience as he could muster, anyway. He watched Hal, trying to gauge her reaction. He was terrible at it. He could glean nothing more by watching her than he would have by ignoring her. He doubted very seriously that she would express what, if anything, was troubling her. She wasn't the sort, in his mind, to spill her problems in front of others. Still, he waited. She might surprise him.

He really hated waiting.

KingofAesir WolfSol

 

[StoneWolf18]

Valoire didn't scream. On the completely other end of the spectrum, she didn't seem to notice as her form subtly shifted from one to the next and back again, clearly marking her as a drifter. Although once Anthony reached the top of the staircase, flickering between the two in time with the dying light, she did watch for a moment with a purely curious gaze as if this completely foreign action was familiar somehow.

(Gah, this is so short but I didn't think could add anything else.)

Coyote Hart Endgame

 

[Coyote Hart]

Feet clanking on metal sounded as Nico, Valorie, and Anthony headed up the stairs, with Nico in front leading. At the top of the staircase, Nico noticed his body changing into a blob of shadows from his skin and flesh form. Shadows. Skin and flesh. Shadows. Skin and flesh. Perfectly in line with the erratic flickering of the lightbulb, the only source of light.
Likewise, Anthony and Valorie's bodies were turning from flesh and bone to darkness
"Hey, welcome to the club," Nico said, smiling and patting Valorie's back as her form flickered back and forth, "Seems like you're also dead."
"Now let's get out of this creepy corridor before a Bedlam sneaks up on us," Nico said, opening the door at the top of the staircase, motioning for Valorie and Anthony to step through.
StoneWolf18 Endgame