Transcender of Gender
Barclay Residence, June 3rd
A British man had answered the door. Was Simon British? Ciro couldn't remember him having an accent, but then again, all he could really remember from their conversation was how pained Simon had sounded from what had landed him in the hospital. Remembering that helped settle his panic back into resolve. "Hi, sir, my name is Ciro. I'm looking for Simon Barclay? I'm a... classmate of his. Actually..."
The nurse had said they were contacting Simon's family, so it was okay to bring it up, right? He hoped so. "I was with him at the hospital, after... what happened at the school. I wanted to check in on him, see if he's been alright since then?" It was the truth, more or less, so Ciro didn't have an issue with keeping steady eye contact with the man while he explained himself.
Spring Park, June 13th
"Oh! J-Josephine..." The girl had managed to sneak up on him, no louder than the shadows cast by the morning sun. A single glance told him that she wasn't handling this mess any better than he was- not that he could really expect otherwise.
More than that, however, there was a strange coldness to her, something he didn't remember from their last encounter (in her demeanour, that was- he still remembered vividly how she'd frozen her hands to her desk). He repressed the urge to shiver as he answered. "Uh, yeah... honestly, I wasn't sure if I should come, since..." He hadn't been on good terms with any of the victims, but he didn't say that. He remembered a moment between Josephine and Nadine, right in the middle of the school's chaos, a moment that hinted at them being close. She didn't need to hear anything bad about Nadine, especially not at her wake. "Well, since... everything's just such a mess."
"But I'm holding up, as best as any of us can, anyway." It was the closest answer he could get to 'I'm fine' that didn't sound like a complete lie. He raised a hand to his neck, rubbing a kink there that had settled in over his past few nights sleeping on a couch. His attention was drawn again to the heavy bags under Josephine's eyes, and his voice became softer as he continued. "How about you? I-I mean obviously, things aren't good, but... if it's something you want to get off your chest..."
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Spring Park
This time, it was Finn's turn to quirk an eyebrow. "You don't have to show me anything," he whispered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You can just, you know, use words? Like we're doing now?"
"Finn!" the woman with him reproached with a disapproving frown, "Be nice!"
The redhead looked particularly dour at this. "Fiiiiiiine... she's in the loop, by the way," he explained, gesturing to his companion, "So don't worry about that, at least."
"I'm Muireann Flannagan, Finn's mother," she clarified quietly, "It's nice to meet you, Mina dear. Forgive him for being so prickly. He just gets like this when he's nervous~!"
"Do not!" he grumbled.
"Do too~!"
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
An Ordinary Oddball
Wilmarina Printer, Spring Park
Wilmarina immediately started to apologize again. “Oh, s-sorry, so sorry, I-I didn’t understand—” she squeaked, face remaining crimson. If it filled up with any more blood she feared that it would burst. “This is a-all very new and scary to m-me, please be patient...”
“I can pull my eyes o-out and they turn into...familiars? I call them Huginn a-and Muginn. And I can shoot l-laser beams out of my eyes, turn th-them all the w-way around in their sockets, s-see through solid objects, see h-hidden things, and, u-um, see...” Wilmarina paused, unintentionally giving her explanation a dramatic effect. “...See the future. Sometimes. I t-think.” The girl wilted even more as she considered that fateful day in the past.
“I could h-have helped during the b-bombing, but I didn’t get my powers until a-afterwards. I’m so w-weak. I’m sorry,” she apologized once more.
Edited by JumpingFruit on May 1st 2020 at 4:10:08 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
"Oh, of course, of course," I hear my Dad say down below. "Well, don't worry, Simon's doing much better. Tough situation, but I'd say he's on the road to recovery..."
"Jeff, who is it?"
Oh, ye gods, it's mum. I wince, blinking my eyes hard as I hear her voice from downstairs. I can already imagine her bustling her way over to the door, still wearing that black jogging outfit she was in this morning.
"Classmate of Simon's, dear. He was with him at the hospital on Monday, just wanted to check in on him."
"Oh, that's wonderful! Come in, come in, please!" I hear the door being shut, so that can only mean whoever it is has been welcomed into the hall, willing or not. "SIMON?" My mum calls up the stairs, "SIMON, THERE'S A FRIEND HERE TO SEE YOU!"
I let out a long groan, audible only to me and maybe Shirin. It's just a classmate, I want to say, not a friend. Don't know that I've had an honest-to-god friend in ages, just good terms with classmates, that's all...probably not even that any more. It takes a few more seconds but I manage to heave the weight of my torso upwards. My feet thump on the ground as I trudge my way out my room like a zombie. I slowly make my way to the corner of the stairs, to the bridge point between my landing and my parents', and pause there to take in the situation.
My mum and dad are in the hall beside the stairwell, in some hushed conversation with dad saying something about 'not wanting to overwhelm him', presumably meaning me. Then, there's him...that guy from earlier in the week, hell, long before then. But the one from the hospital room, Cyril or something, who was scared or angry at me but then started to listen to what I was saying. I guess if anyone from school wanted to talk to me, it'd be him. He must think like I look a right state. Cast in shade at the top of the stairs, hair a mess, bags under my eyes, giving a half-apologetic look from on high.
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Spring Park
Finn looked more and more aghast the more Wilmarina talked. "...Christ," he muttered eventually, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he sighed hugely and reached out to clasp 'flyer girl's' shoulder. "I don't care that you think you're weak. Maybe you are, but that doesn't matter! Just listen to me!" he demanded in a harsh, even lower whisper, eyes narrowing into an intense glare, "Do not ever, under any circumstances let anyone know you can do that last thing you listed! Do. You. Understand?"
"Ow!" he yelped as his mother pulled him back by the ear, "Mom, come on!"
"He's just worried for you, Mina dear," Muireann helpfully clarified in her own hushed tone, "If people know about that, you'll become target number one, after all. So, as rude as he's being, please do as Finn says. Okay~?" She smiled sweetly.
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
An Ordinary Oddball
Wilmarina Printer, Spring Park
“I know what will happen. I’ve seen it,” Wilmarina responded, voice strong for a moment before she started stuttering again. “B-but thank you for c-caring about me l-like this. It seems like you kn-know a lot about this s-situation. Thank you s-so much,” she continued gratefully.
“If you know other p-people who’d like to sign my p-petition, can you refer them t-to me? It would help a l-lot,” she pleaded.
Edited by JumpingFruit on May 1st 2020 at 4:22:12 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Spring Park
Finn took a deep breath and exhaled sharply, evidently regaining his composure. "Yeah, sure," he agreed shortly, "We'll do that."
"We will!" Ms. Flannagan confirmed with a nod.
"Look, if you're serious about this petition business, you're not going to get anywhere alone. You need to get organized," Finn instructed, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Don't just ask people to sign and tell others; ask them to help you pass out flyers, too. I assume you're doing this out of your own pocket, too, right? I can get you the money you need to start building an actual movement, maybe start a nonprofit. For something like this, the classification would be, uh... 501(c)..."
"501(c)(3)," his mother provided.
"Right, that! That way, you can gather donations and be tax-exempt. Also, you'll want to start a website, make a mailing list, that sort of thing. We can hire people to help with that."
"Oh~?" Muireann murmured slyly, "What's this 'we'? You're talking like this is already a joint venture, Finn!"
"Yeah, I guess I am," he conceded, then proffered his free hand for a solemn shake, "Let's work together to prove Nadine Bauer's innocence, Mina."
Edited by darksidevoid on May 1st 2020 at 5:18:51 AM
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
An Ordinary Oddball
Wilmarina Printer, Spring Park
Wilmarina looked at Finn’s outstretched hand hesitatingly, as if not quite believing that it was real, before reaching out to grasp it cautiously and gently. But as she realized that his offer was sincere, her grip turned firm and sure. “Y-you’re really willing to help me set up m-my movement? Oh, thank you, th-thank you!” she squealed, jumping up and down.
“I already s-set up a little website, but I need help r-registering as a non-profit. I guess that’s where you and y-your mother come in...” she mused thoughtfully. “And...I’m worried that wh-whoever did this will try to eliminate all w-witnesses and evidence. Are you q-quite sure that you want to get involved j-just yet?”
However shy and retiring Wilmarina seemed before the “bombing,” she was still concerned for others and willing to step up by herself in order to protect others if need be. That much was apparent, now.
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Ivy had woken up early today.
Red, digital numbers repeated that time, which Ivy refused to accept. She strained slightly, she pushed her head deeper into her pillow, and cleared out her nearly vacant mind to try and return to sleep. She couldn't rest easy, and she couldn't rest in general, it seemed. Nails grip the edge of the bed as the sheer exertion in her mind to go back to sleep only serves to keep her up. Red, uncomfortable numbers. If only they could move faster.
This house had, since the events that had been on everyone's mind transpired, been on lockdown.* The curtains had been shuttered so that the only light in her room was the golden outline at their edges. She had stepped out of her room an easily countable amount of times since this occurred. Mom and Dad had kept close; Mom was naturally available the whole time, Dad requested and received a good deal of time off to help his family cope.
The atmosphere between them was palpably different than before. Adjusting to their daughter's new lot in life was on hold; their desire to make sure that nothing happened to her was even greater. They handled their conversations with her with hushed tones, and they took great efforts to make it so that she barely had to do anything. Ivy had stepped out of the house once, and she wasn't even sure why. She ended up seeing Jem, so it wasn't really worth it.
Not to mention, the glowing, wire-filled elephant in the room. The device that Ivy had made out of the fridge was still churning idly in the kitchen, and they had to go to great lengths to keep it out of view of everyone else. On top of all that, they didn't have a fridge anymore, and replacing it would mean letting strangers inside. It meant that they drank a lot of tap water and got a lot of take-out since it was made.
Ivy stepped over a thick cable that sprawled out from her strange invention, as she walked over to the television in the hopes that whatever was on would find something distracting.
The television was turned off very quickly. She turned back around to her room.
In there, where little bits and pieces of dismantled electronics scattered the floor like caltrops, she got back into bed and reached an arm out to her rearranged computer. She didn't have to leave bed at all; she just remained where she woke up, most of the time. Glazed eyes gave a half-lidded stare through askew glasses buried into the pillow.
At least, in all of this, she had people to talk to. People on the internet...besides the usual ones; she could talk to the others through here. And Luna.
Luna had sent her a pic of a dog with a little sombrero that she said kinda looked like hers at 3:30 A.M.
Ivy responded, at first, that it's the wrong breed.
She replied with a confident looking emoji, and a simple message. "ok youre awake."
Then, Ivy got her hat on. And her unseasonably warm parka.
The Fantabulous
Spring Park – A Funerary Matinee
No matter how much Zia enjoyed a good show, she was not enjoying the prospect of performing at the Mayor’s festival. Principal Shooter had practically begged her mother to ‘help’ plan the event, and it had become very clear he meant she would be running the whole thing. At least Ms. Brayne had been able to negotiate a new grand piano for the school out of the fiasco, and the Mayor even paid for it to be properly tuned for the show. If she could get through the day, it might be worth the stress.
Of course, Zia was keeping the venture from failing as well and was currently trying to resecure a set of speakers to the main stage. There was already a crowd gathered in the security clogged park, a constant murmur in the back of her head she was determined to ignore. Since the hospital, her telepathy had only grown in scope, the borders of her awareness steadily expanding across the town even as she practiced dulling the voices. Altogether too many of those voices had bought into the Mayor’s lie about Nadine, despite her efforts to protest the misinformation. “You need a hand, Zi?” Her mother’s call broke through the ever-present thought-static, “No, I nearly got it!” Zia called back, adding another zip tie and stepping back from the stack, “There we are.”
Straightening her vest and tie, Zia stepped back behind the stage and tried to smile like she had actually slept in a few days, “So, we’re starting in 15 yeah?” Dana kindly pretended she wasn’t worried about her daughter’s worsening health, “Unless Mayor Goodman feels particularly full of himself today – yes.” She chuckled, ambushing Zia with a quick hug, “You should go hang out with your friends for a bit – get rid of nerves, hm?”
Edited by Lt.BGob on May 3rd 2020 at 2:01:34 AM
“Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?”
Happy Box Hater
June 13th, 2017 6:00 AM, Miller Residence
Jacob jolted awake, the sound of the nearly muted alarm on his phone easily rousing the light sleeper. Only a moment later, the teen turned the obnoxious sound off. Soon enough, he hoped, his body would adjust to this new schedule he was creating for himself so the alarm would be unnecessary.
His mother didn't know about this new time he had at the beginning of the day. In this moment, when the rest of the household was still asleep, Jacob was able to do what he wished.
And what he wished to do was training and testing.
Various items of all shapes and sizes were laid out before him. For an entire half hour, he moved them and then used his powers to make them repeat the motions. Even as a migraine threatened to split his head, he pressed on with his practice. There could be no more errors with his loops again, he needed to improve his precision and make sure his emotions wouldn't trigger any unwanted time shenanigans.
If he messed up, and the unfortunate victim wasn't immortal, he could kill them. They would die... Just like what had happened to Barbra, but permanent. These powers, his and everyone else's, had brought nothing but problems and danger and death, and Jacob was sick of it. Seeing Barbra die had been bad enough, and she had ended up perfectly fine afterwards, but ever since actual deaths has occurred...
Another thirty minutes was spent testing new applications of his ability. Things like trying to rewind only parts of an item or looping things he couldn't see, whether because he wasn't looking or because they were invisible like air. The first wasn't successful, though he still felt it was possible. The second... It was hard. He had managed it at one point, but he hadn't been able to reproduce it.
Further practice had to be left for later, though, since it was now 7:00 AM. His mother would be up in several minutes. She'd knock on his door and ask if he was awake yet, even though they both knew from many repetitions of that routine that he'd always be up and ready by the time she arrived.
He began to put everything he had been practicing on away. Footsteps approached his door, predictably culminating in a loud and unpleasant creak right outside. He hated that noisy floorboard, as did his mother, but it was familiar and at this point it would just feel wrong to do anything about it.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Like clockwork, exactly as normal (though nothing about the recent past was normal) after three seconds she knocked on the door. The two sharp thuds reverberated through the room.
"Are you awake, Jacob?" His mother asked rhetorically. Like they didn't both know the answer to that question. "You know what today is. We want to get to the park at least fifteen minutes before noon, preferably sooner, so make sure to get your problem sets done by 11. Have your breakfast and then you can get started."
"Of course, Mother. I'll be out in thirty seconds," he replied, already busy putting on his shoes and buttoning down his shirt.
This was the day he had been waiting for. Ever since the bomb incident, Jacob's mother had been watching him carefully, as if she was afraid something would happen to him the moment she looked away. He hadn't even been outside of the house for more than a few minutes at a time, since returning from the debacle at the hospital.
And in this whole period of time, he hadn't been able to contact anyone. His mother wouldn't have stopped him, of course, but she'd ask questions if her friendless son suddenly had a social life. And Jacob couldn't trust himself to provide answers without revealing the truth. It was now, for perhaps the first time in years, that Jacob felt stifled by his mother.
There was no way his mom would ever miss the event at the park. Some people might make mention if Jacob and her failed to show up, since she was such an active member of the community. Something like that wouldn't be acceptable, so they were both going to attend.
And, Jacob was sure, several of his peers would be there as well. Once in public, his mother wouldn't be able to watch as closely. Being a helicopter parent to her degree stood out, so she tended to ease up around others. And that would be his chance to actually interact and talk about the future with the other teens in this bizarre situation.
Determined to make the most of this chance, Jacob opened up the door to his room and stepped out, skipping over the creaky floorboard.
11:42 AM, Spring Park
Three minutes earlier than his mother's deadline. That was good. Eighteen or so minutes before this farce started. Plenty of time to try finding someone he could talk to about the current happenings. And then waste precious time listening to speeches by people who didn't understand a thing about what had happened.
It made him ever so slightly angry whenever he thought about who was getting the blame for this disaster. Two of the actual perpetrators were mourned as innocent victims while someone else took the fall. It was disgusting. He had even told his mother about where he thought the blame lay, since hearing her believe the publically accepted truth had been too much. She hadn't rejected his own interpretation of the truth, but it was clear that she didn't think it would change anything if the guilt was placed on one person or another. It was already over, and Nadine was already dead, so it wouldn't do her any good to be postmortemly cleared of guilt.
That was as close to an agreement as he'd get. He took what he could get.
Standing next to his mother, who always looked put together and composed no matter the circumstances, Jacob just felt awkward. She was a bad person to compare himself to, but it was inevitable when she just oozed the charisma and social skills that he had never picked up on. If anything, his personality and attitude towards interacting with others had probably taken more from his father.
Luckily, it only took a minute for his mother to become occupied. "Oh Rachel, it's been ages!" he heard his mother exclaim, clearly talking to one of the many acquaintances she had. "Last time we talked you were worrying about your daughter's scholarship, right? Has that all worked out?" And now she'd schmooze for a while, somehow perfectly remembering even the tiniest minutiae from conversations dating back months ago.
But that would give him a chance to do his own thing. Breaking away from his parent's side, the plainly dressed teenager began to scan around for familiar faces. Benedict would be nice, since the genius would most probably be pretty knowledgeable about what was going on, but Jacob wouldn't be averse to speaking to someone else. Barbra had... somewhat grown on him, and he was also concerned about what she might have ended up doing in the past weeks with her new found immunity to dying. He'd even settle with asking Hyeon, if only because they had impressed Jacob during the bomb incident.
But, instead, the first student he had spotted wasn't even a student anymore. Finn Flannagan, someone he hadn't seen for quite a while. Now that he thought about it, Jacob had literally no idea what he had gotten up to after being... expelled? That was what had happened, he was pretty sure. He was kind of fuzzy on the details.
While he didn't really care about Finn, he was the only other person with a connection to this that Jacob could see. Time was running short, he was keenly aware, and it was important he found someone to discuss this with before the event started. Trying to find someone that he actually wanted to talk to might take too long.
After he had already started walking towards him, though, Jacob realized he would be interrupting a conversation... Not only that, it was a conversation with a girl he didn't recognize. Someone who might not be involved with the whole "supernatural powers" thing. It wouldn't be a good idea to just try to ask a few questions now. Waiting until they were finished talking was the best option.
Which was the thought process that lead to Jacob Miller lurking near Finn and Wilmarina, not trying to hide the fact that he was watching Finn.
Why is a yam attacking me?
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Spring Park
"Just yet? Heh!" Finn chuckled and shrugged, "In case you don't know from your visions or whatever, the government is already after us. Or someone claiming to be the government, at least. Besides, I can just be the funding source and conceal my name. It's not like charities have to disclose their donors... right?"
"Correct," his mother confirmed, and then her voice took on a cautious bent, "Finn, nine o'clock."
"Hm?" the redhead frowned and subtly glanced to his left. "Oh," he said, letting out a breath when he saw who it was, "It's only Miller." He beckoned at their onlooker with a hand, whispering to Wilmarina, "Jacob Miller; he's one of us."
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
Schrodinger's Human
Spring Park
"I hope you're genuinely holding up, and not feigning wellness..." Josephine said with weakness in her voice apparent.
She noticed the softness that Ciro enchanted his words with, and she smiled wearily, the best she could do to show appreciation. The girl struggled to find her words, to determine how exactly would she tell him about herself? Lie that she managed to recover completely? None of it worked on family or strangers alike, what was to say that Ciro would be different? Understatement? She almost let out an instinctual sigh at the thought of it. Every time she understated the state of her mindscape, she felt like harming herself.
"...I miss her. I miss her a lot." Josephine Engel let these words escape her mouth. It was too late to stop this, and she never had any intention to stop. "Truth be told, I didn't really know her a long time. It was sheer coincidence that we met. And that is exactly what I used... to not hurt. We just ran into each other unintentionally, I didn't spend that much time with her. Yet... Oh, I'm sorry, Ciro. I... I shouldn't have said it. Just can't stop it, can I?" She added the last words with a bitter whisper, after which she returned to a smile yet again.
Everything that lives is designed to end.
Happy Box Hater
Spring Park
Now that he was close by, though not trying to actively listen in (as that would be rude), Jacob noticed the flyers. Clearing Nadine's name? What good would that do? She might have been blameless, but at this point the only way he could think of to move the guilt off of her would be to get confessions out of the surviving members of Daigo's gang. And, at that point, the one who actually orchestrated the whole thing was dead. Most of the surviving members of that group weren't involved or were basically pressured and forced into helping... but they'd still have their reputations ruined just by association. The one who most deserved that sort of punishment was deceased.
It wasn't wrong to want the truth revealed, but it wouldn't really change anything. A purely symbolic victory.
His musings were interrupted when Finn took notice of him. He had been hoping to start a conversation after this one ended, but clearly Flannagan thought now was a good time. They had barely ever interacted, so Finn must have been aware that Jacob probably wanted to talk about power related things as that was their only connection, yet he still gestured towards him and whispered something to the girl. Since she was high school age, and at this event, it was likely she was a Roger's High student... which definitely made it possible for her to be empowered... gifted... they needed a term for this.
Regardless, he was whispering something about him that couldn't be said aloud to the girl, which meant it was likely she was in on this. Not that Jacob would actually say anything incriminating without making sure, but it seemed to him like a good assumption. And, as a reasonable next step in his logic since Finn didn't strike him as reckless enough to even mention anything he wanted kept secret around those not in the know, the older woman, presumably his mother, might also know about what was going on.
"Hello, Finn," he stated plainly and clearly, having already planned how he'd start the conversation, while walking up until he reached a normal distance for talking. "I haven't seen you since May 25th, if I remember correctly." His posture was unnaturally stiff, almost robotic. Times like this, he wished he knew how his own mother was able to make everything she did seem natural and normal. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important. If you can't talk about things right now, I don't mind walking away." That was his way of saying that he didn't know if present company was in the know about the matters he'd have liked to discuss.
Well, even if it wasn't alright to talk now, there was still one thing he should do. Jacob withdrew a pen from his pocket and, for a moment, said nothing. Then, realizing his intentions might not be immediately clear, he turned to Wilmarina. "You have a petition, right? I'd like to sign," he told her, still not letting any emotions into his voice. Even if he didn't think it would make a difference, there was no harm in putting his name down.
Edited by pillowmantis on May 3rd 2020 at 11:54:31 AM
Why is a yam attacking me?
An Ordinary Oddball
Wilmarina Printer, Spring Park
“O-oh, yes...” Wilmarina let Jacob sign, and then stowed all the signatures away for safekeeping. “I’m Wilmarina Printer, b-but everyone calls me M-Mina. I-I’ll be joining your ‘s-special circle’ sh-shortly,” she said, hoping Jacob would catch her secret meaning.
Wilmarina was frankly galled by everyone paying attention to her, but Huginn and Muginn were elated to finally have found some friends too. Hopefully they would be able to find out the truth of matters and get this over with, but according to her vague visions, this wouldn’t be easy in the least.
Edited by JumpingFruit on May 3rd 2020 at 3:48:35 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Transcender of Gender
Barclay Residence, June 3rd
Unable to resist the unstoppable might of an enthusiastic mother, Ciro found himself hurried into the front hall of the house, his arms suddenly clasped to his sides as he became painfully aware of his presence in the home. A small smile had frozen on his face once he stepped in, its limits tested by the inaudible whispering that Simon's parents engaged in once the door was closed.
Trying not to dwell on it, he peeked upwards when he heard footsteps shuffling at the top of the stairs. Simon looked... well, probably not much worse than Ciro himself did. A little (okay, a lot) gloomy, like a vampire nested atop his perch. Ciro blinked the imagery away. He was walking around, which was a step up from the hospital bed where Ciro had last seen him.
Still with his arms by his side, Ciro raised a hand and waved it awkwardly. "Hi, Simon." he said, not much louder than the whispers coming from further down the hall. Though his smile remained, he couldn't hide the exhaustion and discomfort in his eyes as he looked between Simon and his parents. "Is, um... is it alright if I come up?"
Spring Park, June 13th
When accused (rightfully) of downplaying his own stress, Ciro only breathed an awkward chuckle. He didn't make any further sound, bringing his hand back down and waiting quietly for her to continue. Once she had done so, and apologised for opening up to him, he was quick to shake his head. "It's fine, really, I asked you to start in the first place."
He went quiet again for a long moment, gathering together his words while fighting the sorrow that crept in with them. "I... I won't pretend that I know what you're going through. I can't even begin to imagine it. But I know how much it can hurt to miss someone, even if you didn't really know them that long." He fought the urge to fidget, to distract himself from how uncomfortable he felt sharing anything. "It's not something that ever goes away, not entirely, but it will stop hurting so badly. Eventually. There'll be other stuff to fill up the hole they left, to stop it from eating away at you."
Ciro raised his hand again, this time laying it softly on Josephine's shoulder. His sad smile matched her own, though he forced himself to sound reassuring. "And you have all of us to talk to if you ever need to. Don't forget that, kay?"
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Jemimah Chen; Spring Park
Jem was never actually sure what was going on at any given point, but she knew she liked two things: walking in the park, and taking random pieces of paper handed out to her, because she liked making people happy.
"Clear Nadine's name? Sure!"
She snatched the flyer, then pulled a bright pink Sharpie out of her jacket pocket.
JEMIMAH RUI-TONG CHEN AGREES WITH THIS STATEMENT!
She then added three hearts and an even bigger tilde.
"This is for you," she grinned, handing the flyer back to Wilmarina. "Best of luck with this Nadine person's name!"
Mancunian Candidate
Michael Babayev: Spring Park
Tuesday, June 13th, 2017
11:42AM
Right Up Wilmarina's Ass
When Kublai Khan had awoken six hours ago beneath an unfamiliar ceiling, he'd been disturbed to realise he was still Michael Babayev, nineteen, aspiring boxer and pitiable clerk. He'd taken a strange breakfast in a strange room, watched strange announcements flashing across a strange box, lamented his sudden awareness of oatmeal - there was a stench of whimsy here, some strange celestial spite, and the absurdity of its injustice had cut him deeply across the morning news. In no functioning universe would he have cause to know of NECN.
The boy's mother spoke to him in English, what remained of her father drooled his meal back into his lap, and he saw the both of them in tandem, as to his eyes and as to the boy's. So he'd cleaned the dishes and wiped the old man's mouth and taken his position at the tills, as he'd done the day before, because that love was infectious, in him now as deep as the wind and the hawk and the lore of the plains. The box had started barking things he didn't care to contextualise, so he silenced it at the outlet. He'd been surprised to realise how little they troubled him, the thousand words and associations not his own.
There was, he reasoned, a purpose to this, something to correct. He'd debated Daoshis and Bodhisattvas both, heard the case of the Tengrists and Nestorians and his brothers' pet Moslems, and found that in no extant system was such random happenstance permissible. The boy had found no words to express his faith, but on this matter they concurred; their course, therefore, was simple. Kublai was in the boy and the boy was in Kublai. With this recognised, rationalisation could bow gracefully before expedience.
The Great Chinggis said: "There is no value in anything until it is finished."
So at lunch he'd abandoned his post, knowing the boy's parents would permit him, and jogged to Spring Park. There was some kind of ceremony, some celebration of the Founders - the boy had never bothered to find out which ones they were, and Kublai had reasoned it was irrelevant. The nature of power was static, even here, but the colour of its local reverie was largely lost on him. Michael Babayev had been no patriot. He looked at the guards and in his hindbrain thought flatly 'bacon', and wasn't quite sure why.
The scanners let him through with keys intact, not so much as a knife to his name, and inside he'd found no Goodman Mayor; instead flyers, Nadine, a name with soft lips and bitter memorial and preternatural suspicion, and a crowd of faces neither of them recognised.
"Uh, hi," said the body of Michael Babayev, edging past the girl with a missing tooth to take a flyer in his hand. "Do you have a pen I can borrow? Also, did you guys know her?"
Edited by OG-Sama on May 3rd 2020 at 3:33:00 PM
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Spring Park
"Whoa, special circle?" Finn rolled his eyes. "Sounds pretty exclusive! That's not suspicious at all, nooooo... Anyway, yes, Miller. I can talk now."
Before he could get another word out, lo and behold, Jemimah Rui-Tong Chen appeared! "Nevermind, I can't talk now," he muttered to Jacob, then turned to address the elder girl's shocking ignorance.
"Nadine Bauer is the one the media and politicians are claiming was behind the Rogers High 'bombing'," he explained with a 'can you believe this shit' kind of air, making sure to put bombing in physical quotes in case the meathead didn't understand, "I'm pretty sure — no, I know — her name was all over the news. Don't you watch TV, Chen? Or at least read headlines?"
As soon as those words left his mouth, yet another person appeared looking to sign the petition! Shit, I didn't think Flyer Girl would attract so much attention...
"She was an acquaintance," the redhead answered as he stared down the new arrival, putting on a friendly smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. Something about the bearded young man was familiar. Where have I seen him before...?
"Oh! You work at uh... that Chinatown supermarket, right?" Finn said after a sudden epiphany, snapping his fingers, then leaned in for a whisper for Michael exclusively: "Just between you and me, the numbers I bought from your store were winners, so once word gets out, you guys are gonna get a lot of business, heh!"
Meanwhile, Finn's mother helpfully passed over her son's pen, which she still hadn't returned, to the Khan incognito. "Here you go, dear! You see, Mina?" she said, winking at Wlimarina, "So many new signatures, and it's only been a few minutes! We're already off to a great start!"
Edited by darksidevoid on May 3rd 2020 at 9:14:35 AM
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
Jem Chen; The Jem-Bubble
Michael was here! Great! She liked Michael. He was terrible at rolling, but he packed a pretty mean punch. Imouto-san still said that he dragged his feet and didn't use his hips enough, but Jem didn't really think dragging your feet was much of a crime.
Now, if she could just teach him to keep his arms looser when heading towards the mat as opposed to over it, she might be able to use him as a proper uke.
"Hi, Michael! What are you doing out here?"
Oh, and Finn was here too! She liked Finn. He'd shown up at the club expecting to throw everyone with his brain or something, so she'd put him into about fifteen different flavors of pin, and then he had tapped with his lips. Good times!
Everyone said he was stuck-up, but Jem knew that he was just waiting to open his heart to the wonders of judo.
"Finn-Flan! You're here too! Nah, I didn't see any headlines. I was trying to throw Uke, you know Uke, he's my tree, and Jae-Jae didn't want to tell me what happened at the hospital, so I don't know what's been happening."
Jem tapped her chin with the Sharpie.
"She seemed kinda mad."
Edited by troydenite on May 4th 2020 at 4:41:13 AM
Happy Box Hater
Spring Park
Did she really just call this a special circle? Was that this Wilmarina's attempt at being subtle or coy about it? She made it sound like a cult or conspiracy. "It's... interesting to make your acquaintance then, Wilmarina," Jacob replied plainly, trying to not express an untrue level of interest. "I certainly hope you're more subtle normally." At the very least he now knew for certain that the girl was one of them.
Not that that meant anything about being on the same side. Daigo was proof enough about that.
Of course, anything looked subtle compared to the incoming existence known as Jemimah Chen. Just seeing her there, snatching the paper to sign it, was enough to make Jacob reflexively take a step back. Chaotic people like her were impossible for him to deal with. If he had wanted to be around someone unpredictable, he wouldn't have approached Finn. The fact that Jem signed her name with a pink sharpie, of all things, pained him.
And, along with this known chaotic figure, there was new source of chaos in the form of a newcomer he didn't recognize in the slightest. Not even Finn seemed to know the guy, beyond a passing familiarity. An unknown, which meant he needed to avoid anything related to powers. In other words, Finn was completely right that they couldn't talk now.
It was starting to tick him off, with all these unexpected interruptions. If he hadn't practiced his control these past weeks, his powers might have started acting up. As much as he'd like to just walk away, though, he knew that would just seem strange. Giving answers to questions was important, because otherwise people would jump to their own conclusions.
"I only knew her well enough to know I didn't want to associate with her," Jacob stated coldly, before his gaze turned towards the ground. That was too callous a thing to say about the recently departed, even if it was completely true. "...And enough to think she wasn't behind this," he reluctantly added.
As much as he didn't want to talk to this guy, though, he would still prefer this complete stranger's questions to whatever Jem was talking about. He entirely tuned her out, until his ears picked up the name Jae and the word "hospital" amidst the babble. That was... a terrible way to end that terrible day.
He wondered if Jae felt any remorse for her actions, beyond regret for the harm they brought onto herself. Not that it would make him think any better of her if she did, but it would be good if such an event didn't repeat itself. "Like she didn't bring it upon herself," he muttered, not intending to be heard, at the mention by Jem of Jae being mad.
Why is a yam attacking me?
An Ordinary Oddball
Wilmarina Printer, Spring Park
Wilmarina graciously took Jem’s hot pink signature and thanked her lots for her contribution, at which point Michael came over. Oh dear God, Michael. Wilmarina’s poor face, which had been slowly returning to its normal color, heated up until it was redder than most depictions of Guan Yu’s majestic bearded face. Perhaps even a little purple too. She curled in on herself as if she wanted to disappear or run away.
After stammering and spluttering for a few seconds, Wilmarina finally gathered herself enough to speak: “No, I didn’t know N-Nadine very well. I’ve t-talked to her once or t-twice, and she was pretty cool. T-too cool f-for the likes of me. H-heh. But I want to p-prove her innocence since there’s o-obviously something wrong h-here. I want to prove t-the truth.”
At that point, some kids behind Michael had picked up a huge stick and half of a brick and were attempting to play a mock game of baseball. Wilmarina’s vision tunneled.
Her field of vision suddenly splintered and she was suddenly plummeting into a void of darkness with manifold futures spooled out around her like movie film. She flailed and her eyes caught one singular frame—the rock connecting with Michael’s face, shattering his jaw—connecting with his head, sending his brains flying everywhere—too much, simply too much—
Her teeth started chattering and she turned white in the waking world, managing to grate out two fateful words before her legs failed her: “Behind you—you—you—” Her words hold no uncertainty or stutter, they just held an ethereal echo like her voice was coming from different directions or even times.
In the background, the half-brick was already sailing through the air towards the deadly bat waiting to propel it towards Michael’s head. Wilmarina collapsed in the foreground, made insensate by the horrific gore she had seen.
Edited by JumpingFruit on May 3rd 2020 at 10:31:12 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
"...I, uh..." I glance down at my parents. They're already looking up at me expectantly. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "...d-yeah, sure, come on up." I gesture to invite him up, then look back down at Mum and Dad. "We're, uh...just gonna go talk about things, okay? We were gonna talk at the hospital but never got around to it, so we're just gonna talk about stuff, okay? Like, us. Private convo." Christ, did I really just say 'convo'?
"That's fine, Simon," Dad says.
"Let us know if you need anything!" Mum adds, brightly.
Have to admit, I'm a little surprised. Considering how much they've been breathing down my neck all week, I expected them to be up in arms about me wanting to do anything in private, even so much as talking to another guy. They're probably keeping cool so I let my guard down, and then they'll go right behind us and listen in on what we're saying through the door. Better make this quick. I look back to the other guy and nod in the direction of my bedroom, leading him up that way.
"Maow! Mrow!" There goes Shirin, mewing up at the newcomer in the house. Always likes to welcome a guest. On my way back to the room, I kneel and pet her head for a bit. She seems to still enjoy it.
...And so, let us once more shine the spotlight on David, on this piece that has yet a story to tell.
So far, however, this is the story of a pretty normal day. A normal day where, deep in thoughts, David had just returned from jogging around. It was something he'd started doing after the school year was cancelled, just as a way to pass time and do some activity. It wasn't like he disliked it anyway, and to top it all off it gave him a chance to gather his thoughts.
A lot had been going on lately, hadn't it?
Reports of a terrorist attack, there, at Oldport- of all places! A town that had seemed, as cliche as it sounds, so normal... Well, ok, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. A lot of an exaggeration. Strange stuff had happened there, hadn't it? First, there was that weird thing at school. David had honestly assumed it was some kind of weird dream he'd had. He probably dozed off in class or something. He hadn't really told anyone what happened, not like anyone'd believe it was real. I mean, the power turning off? Ok, fair enough. That happens. The speakers playing loud music all of a sudden? Could be some kind of joke a tired employee pulled, or something.
But ghost snakes? The teachers not even perceiving them? The green smoke? That could not have been real- hence, a dream. Very realistic, to be sure. David could swear it was realistic enough that he had actually felt pain; but what else could it have been? Surely, you couldn't suggest that that had happened for real. This was real life, not some weird superhero story.
Then was the second really unexplainable event: the bomb. David had not known much of it beyond what the media- and thus, he believes, everyone- released. A fire alarm had rung out before the bomb had even been detected, and as such he, along with everyone, or so he had thought, had evacuated.
From then on, as mentioned, all he knew was what everyone knew- the truth, to him. An explosion had occurred, the police had come, a girl had ran out of the school and had been shot, as she had been identified as the culprit of that incident. Furthermore, as had later been revealed, the tragic deaths of two other students David didn't really know had made the number of people lost that day. The school year had been cancelled, and the media had naturally been all over that case, naturally.
Some outlets were using it as a shock story to rake in more sales; others were broadcasting the opinions of the local politicians, so as to sway the general opinion one way or the other; and others yet were more... conspiracy theory-aligned.
Even someone who wasn't all too good at keeping up with the news had heard them. Apparently, some people didn't believe it was a bomb at all. There was a lack of evidence, they said. The police was hiding something. The girl was just a scapegoat, she couldn't have made a bomb. It was just a conspiracy to hide some non-descript higher power.
...His train of thoughts was interrupted, and he was brought back to reality, when he heard some people talking, quite loudly too. Oh, right. Today was the memorial service for the students who had passed away before their time. And that meant, the place he was now at could only be...
Spring Park
David realized he'd jogged till there. He decided to stop and take a look around. Why not, he thought. It's not like he was doing anything. True, he had something to finish at home, but it was coming along well enough. Even if it was a deadline he'd set for himself, he wanted to respect it- but he was still very much on time. So, he stopped, and looked around. What to say. This was... different.Metal detectors and police officers patrolling the area, with dogs at that. Such tight security might have been expected, even, but it just felt out of place there. But there was something else that had caught his eye, perhaps more so. Up until now, he'd thought those conspiracy theories were upheld by a small, though vocal perhaps, minority; amongst his friends, they had gained little traction if any, so he had no reason to believe others thought otherwise. Especially, he had figured, with the students that went to that school everyday, who might have known the two unfortunate victims.
So naturally, he couldn't help but be surprised and curious when he saw people handing fliers, looking like students, and from what he could read from such a flier carelessly dropped by someone, they were protesting that girl's innocence. Talking about it too, with whoever would stop and listen. Raising an eyebrow, he approached them silently, thinking they'd probably notice he was a student too and talk to him. More than anything, he was curious. He'd probably get a story to tell his friends about, and that would be that. The talk about what new conspiracy theories popped up every day was- at least in their group- still there to some extent.
Edited by DarknessAwaits on May 7th 2020 at 10:32:22 AM
Two knocks on the door. Then silence hangs for a moment or two. After a couple of seconds had passed, Ciro would've seen through the frosted glass of the door window as someone came down the stairs. The door opens, and standing there is a tall man in a sky blue sweater, with black hair greying around the temples. When he speaks it's with an English accent, with a bit of northern inflection. "Oh, hello," he says with pleasant surprise, if not without a twinge of confusion. "How can I help you?"
Not me down there. Obviously. No, right now I'm upstairs in my bedroom, with the sound of conversation drifting up and through the door. Over on my desk, there's a laptop opened to an application form for the University of Rhode Island...or at least it was, but it's been on screensaver for the last minute or three. I haven't been counting the time. I've just been on the other side of the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into the floor. Don't know if I'm analysing the patterns of the floorboards, or just letting my mind drift into the nothingness. Must've been somewhat trancelike for the knock to snap me out of it. I glance over to the door. It's about halfway open, and Shirin the Tonkinese Cat has been sitting in it for a while. Most days she'd be in the room already, mewing away, looking for petting. She's been keeping her distance lately, though...and I think I know why.
It would've been better if Mum and Dad kept their distance too. If nothing else I wouldn't be suffocating in this house. Choking under the constant regiment, the strictly enforced routine that lets them keep tabs on when I'm waking up, when I'm eating, when I'm on the computer, even when I'm so much as crapping. Most of the week it's been Dad doing that. He's taken a leave of absence from to keep tabs on me. Mum's still going to work- just because my school's shut down, doesn't mean hers is. But the very instant she gets back, she's instantly on my case about what I've been doing all day, how much progress I've made, and when I'll be taking my medicine. Pretty much all the privacy I get is here in my room, in my little box in the house with the computer on and the blinds drawn. Mum wouldn't want the blinds drawn, especially not during the day with the computer light on. One of the many disagreements we've been having.
Like why I should even bother applying to university, taking a course, plugging on like everything's normal when it's not. When nothing's normal anymore. When I just got handed a grade I didn't earn because half the school got blown up and now everything's a mess? What was the point of all the preparation I did for finals? What was the point of all of it anymore? That was what was on my mind the other day when I finally blew up at Mum and Dad. I don't remember what exactly was said in response. Mum shouting something about moving forward, and asking why I didn't want a better future for myself. Then Dad leading me around the corner, and telling me in a tone like cold iron that I was upsetting my mother who just wanted what was best for me.
I know that I quietened down fairly quickly. Not because I agreed with what they said, or because I was 'upsetting' my Mum. But because I'd started sparking again, right at the end. I'm pretty sure I caught it in time before either of them saw. I'd walked off gripping my arm when Dad caught me and led me off. I can't let that happen again. So I've been keeping control for a while. Keeping it all pushed down. Holding a lid on whatever I'm feeling no matter how messed up it is. I've been keeping quiet, keeping at it, pretending to work on my future learning career. Taking a break right now, though, that's what I'm doing. Can't even muster the energy to goof off on the internet. Just letting it all wash over me.
Everything's gone upside down. Dad's always around and I'm waiting for Mum in the evening. I should be at school but I'm at home. I worked hard for exams but they all got thrown out. School's blown to hell but no kid's celebrating, while some dead girl is taking the fall. Everything's backwards. Everything's wrong.