Spring Park
Ivan was tired. Three words that had defined him for the past few weeks, but now worse. There had been so much to think about, over that time, but so few chances to just sit still for once and... and process! It was with that heat in his veins that he separated from his parents as soon as he arrived at the event - they meant well, but things at home were getting stifling, and if he let the excuse of meeting with friends slip by there was no telling when he'd next be able to breathe. So there Ivan was, leaning on a tree, running his hand through his hair on repeat, thinking about his hair because even after going to this trouble he wasn't sure he wanted to think about it too deeply. "Take score", that's the phrasing he kept needing to dance around, the words that just popped into his head to remind him that even though people had died, even though things had irrevocably changed, a part of him still saw this as a game. Almost certainly the same part of him that had let it get like this in the first place.
But this day wasn't about him, and he wouldn't waste it on introspection. Not this time. He flipped open his notepad. At this point, he knew which page he'd prepared. The choice of who to go for first was easy; none of them were going anywhere. The ink on the page shuffled and reformed, until it became a pair of words. It really was unfair, wasn't it? He let the words reset before thinking of the next name, the same pair staring blankly back at him. So many stories got to go on, but not only did these ones end, they weren't even written. He let the words reset again before he brought back the words with the final, though no less important, thought of the last name. This ritual, the causal equivalent of quickly flicking a light switch on and off so you could see the whiteboard, wasn't much, but it was all the weight he was able to give to each name's presentation. After all, there's not much variation between two writings of the words "The End".
Ivan closed the notepad with a sigh, and slid it back into his pocket. He'd come here to process, but now that he finally had time, he found himself unsure of where to begin. While he thought, his eyes slid across his surroundings, idly looking at them but not really seeing anything.
Spring Park
"So kind..." Josephine Engel muttered as if saying this to herself, not to Ciro.
What would indeed fill this void in her heart, a gaping wound?
Friends and love? Josephine now realized that they could only be temporary, especially in a world that could not welcome people like them. The only way for them to become permanent was knowing who was conspiring to hurt Josephine and denizens of her world. And they needed to be excised from this world.
But, to her despair, that part would come much later, and may never come.
The girl turned to her "friend", who was surrounded by air of melancholy. "Can he be called a friend? He did listen to my... rambling that would make others sick. Certainly not like those who said they would "listen"." Josephine pushed aside the walls of distrust and let herself accept comfort in Ciro's presence as a friend. She hoped that her friendship with Ciro Gardner would at the very least dispel some of the void.
"Thanks for putting up with me. And... yes, I won't forget. You don't seem like a type to betray."
'Hope I'm right this time...'
"I don't know if I'm actually worth for anything, but I'll be... I'll try to help you as much as I can too."
'So that you won't leave me. So that you won't betray me. So that they won't take you like they did her... So that I won't be a complete failure again.'
For a moment, Josephine Engel observed her new friend and noticed what she considered to be a discomfort.
"..Did I make you cold by accident?" the girl asked with worry, unsure whether to check his temperature or not. Her hands remained in an awkward position.
Edited by kaalban on May 9th 2020 at 11:39:35 PM
Everything that lives is designed to end.Casa Del Jung
Monday, May 29th, 2017
11:27 PM
His feet traced a pattern across the linoleum of his kitchen as the beat of the song began to pick up, his heavily-bloodshot eyes slipping shut while his neck jerked to and fro in time to the beat. “Son you better be ready for love~” He mouthed along, getting his shoulders into the action as he flexed them along with the intermittent keys of the piano. “On this glory day!”
A body in a pool of bloodied water.
Devin, pinned to the wall.
BANG
Hyeon took another bite of one of his pot brownies, and the sights and sounds melted away, replaced with an all-consuming mellowness. It was fine. Everything was just…
Fine.
“To-night when I chase the dra-gon,” Hyeon continued, the horn section kicking in giving his moves something more solid to groove along to, “the wa-ter may change to che-rry wine, and the sil-ver will turn to gold…”
His buzz and his rhythm were both interrupted when he almost stepped on Kwang, the animal scurrying underfoot across the kitchen floor.
-Fucking—watch it!- He said, his voice unconsciously reverting to the series of squeaks and chirps that would most get through to the animal.
Kwang promptly made his way up the leg of one the stool next to the kitchen counter, before bounding off the top of the stool onto the counter proper, and then sniffing inquisitively at the bag of pot brownies that had been twice as full when he’d first gotten home from the hospital waiting room.
-Hey, hands off!- Hyeon said, making to shoo the animal away with light, but determined swipes of his hands. -The fuck you need those for? What are you supposed to be sad about, huh?-
Kwang reared back onto his back legs, quirking his head to the side while he twitched his tail into curved shapes behind him. -Mom!-
-Oh, here we go.- Hyeon said, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward onto the counter, jabbing an accusatory finger in Kwang’s direction. -You know that the only thing you’ve done since I’ve met you is guilt me about your stupid mom? I’m sorry, alright! I’m sorry that you’re at the bottom of the food chain! I’m sorry that cat chased you into the bottom of the street! I’m sorry that they haven’t invented the car mirror that lets me see that close to the ground!-
Hyeon slid into the stool proper, Kwang bounding away slightly to give him space before facing the boy while Hyeon gestured with one hand wildly. -And I’m sorry that I was so freaked out by the most stressful day of my life, and I’m sorry that—no, you know what I’m really sorry about? Benedict. I’m sorry I ever trusted that fucker. I’m sorry I looked at him, all poor and pathetic and hoity-toity, and ever thought, ‘hmm, this guy’s not so bad’. I thought that, I really did. But if I’d never met him that night, he wouldn’t have thought to hit me up the next morning, wouldn’t have—and what part of him is the smartest man in the world? I, I just thought…- Hyeon was finding it harder to speak, harder to take in the necessary breaths. His eyes were tender and wet, and he could taste the salt flowing down his cheeks and collecting at the corners of his mouth. -If I’d never believed him, if I’d never gone with him, I could’ve been with her instead. And I could have… I don’t know.- He said these last three words quietly, as if he were suddenly at a confessional instead of his kitchen. -Something. Anything. Even if it had been me instead, it would’ve been better. Better than… what they’re saying. What people believe about her. But then, if I’d never met Benedict, I might not have met her again either, and then… I might believe it too…-
-…Mom?-
Hyeon looked down at Kwang, down at his wide, black, guileless eyes, and reached forward, resting his hand clumsily on the creature’s back to give Kwang’s head a soft stroke with his thumb. -She’s dead, buddy. I’m sorry, but she’s dead, she’s not coming back, and it’s my fault. I might’ve—could’ve—should’ve done something different. But I didn’t.- He drew his hand back, propping his cheek with his other hand, and watched for the creature’s reaction. -You can… go, if you want. I wouldn’t blame you.- Hyeon’s head drooped down, until it was cushioned in his crossed arms, his eyes now at a level with Kwang’s. -But—maybe you could just—stay until morning, maybe. It’s really—I’m kind of—I don’t want to be…-
Hyeon wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, or when he felt the tears begin to spill out in earnest. But what woke him was the sensation of a soft, furry shape, pressing its warmth against his cheek while a small, wet tongue flicked out to lap at his tears.
-Mom…- The animal chirped, and though Hyeon couldn’t prove it, he swore that the animal understood.
Hyeon pulled him in closer, and together, they mourned for what was lost.
The morning sunlight streamed down onto Hyeon’s face, and he let out a noise of satisfaction while he seemingly wrung out every bodily kink from the previous day with one, long stretch.
Hyeon’s sunny good mood lasted until he opened his eyes and looked at his toaster, which was now twice the size that he was.
-Brother!- Kwang chirped happily, running a happy circle around Hyeon, a disorienting sensation now that it appeared that the small rodent had grown to match Hyeon’s human dimensions.
Or maybe not, Hyeon groggily reflected, as he stared into the reflection in the chrome of the toaster, and looked into the eyes of a grey squirrel with black rings around its eyes that looked suspiciously like…
“…fuck me.”
Edited by Uncandescent on May 10th 2020 at 3:18:09 PM
If I had that kind of power, I'd have dropped a meteor on your house ages ago~Naturally, the cat gets a more cheerful reaction and greeting than I do. "Her name's Shirin," I say. "Usually we just end up calling her 'Cat', though." I stand up and briefly gesture to her, trying to indicate that he can pet her too if he likes. Then I slowly wander into my room. I stick the light on while I'm at it, and wind up squinting at the sudden burst of brilliant light. Finally, I head to my bed and just drop my butt down onto it, trying to aim for the spot I was sitting last. Sitting upright this time, though. Want to get in the right position for what's probably not going to be a comfortable chat.
And a Strange Figure Emerges.Barclay Residence, June 3rd
"Hey, Shirin." Taking Simon's gesture as permission, Ciro stopped by the little feline and gave her a quick pet, rubbing the top of her head and then moving down to scratch under her chin. Once satisfied, he righted himself and followed the other boy into his bedroom.
His eyes scanned the new environment, little judgement in them as he appraised the barren decoration. He hesitated with interest on the quiet lava lamp, the idle laptop, and the figurine that he didn't recognise. It did strike him as a little odd to turn on the light when it was still morning outside, but Ciro didn't comment on it. Instead he leaned himself against one of the walls, staring awkwardly at a random spot near Simon's body as he worked up the nerve to address the elephant in the room.
Well, no need to jump right into it. Asking right off the bat why Simon had acted the way he did during finals would likely do more harm than good. "So, uh..." Ciro said instead, one hand sneaking into his pocket so he could fidget with the lining unseen. "How have things been? Since the hospital, I mean... or, I guess, before that too?"
Spring Park, June 13th
'Betrayal', 'worth', 'putting up'- Josephine had said little but revealed a lot. Though he couldn't be sure, Ciro suspected those feelings were too deep-seated to have only been a result of recent events. He thought a lot before he spoke again, his concern evident in his eyes. "I'd appreciate the help, of course, but... don't put yourself down like that. Nobody's worthless, and- and you don't have to prove yourself, or, uh, or anything..."
Then his discomfort was brought up, and Ciro was quick to shake his head. "Ah, no, don't worry about it. Just have a lot on my mind, y'know? Although..." He couldn't ignore the strange chill where his hand had rested on Josephine's shoulder. It was the middle of summer and Ciro was uncomfortably warm in just a shirt. He hadn't even thought to bring a coat that he could offer. "You do seem pretty cold. You alright?"
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob"Mr. Gardner, I presume."
Standing besides the tree, wearing an impeccable black three-piece suit with a grey tie, his (still long) hair slicked back, and with a vaguely annoyed smile on his lips, Benedict Tudor made himself known, stepping out from behind the tree Ciro had parked under. Wincing slightly, he made sure to step around the dirtiest spots of dirt on the floor (his shining shoes probably the reason why) as he approached the boy and Josephine. "And... Ms. Engel, correct?" He narrowed his eyes and then suddenly waved it aside before Jo could say a word. "That was a jest, you see. I know your name."
"Now what I don't know is if we were properly acquainted. I am Benedict Tudor, member of a highly prestigious group that you two are also part of." Benedict cleared his throat and leaned forward, almost subtly pushing the two away from any other groups. "I feel as if we have already met, but my mind was far busier with other things these past few weeks. Things I needed to share with responsible members of our clan, as opposed to... Jung-" He practically spat the name, adjusting his tie to release some of his venom. "- and his ilk."
Again, before any of the two could say a word, Benedict snapped his fingers. "Don't bother to remind me where I might know you from— I know everything. Unfortunately, my powers have forced me to learn about compartmentalizing my own thoughts. I can't solve the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture if I'm worried about holding onto frivolous information like the name of the security guard who bothered my father as we walked into the park."
Benedict stopped to stare at Ciro, raising an eyebrow and looking at him from head to toe. "You could certainly use someone to give you some fashion advice... or some tips on how to look presentable..." He muttered under his breath, almost reaching over to adjust Ciro's tie before slapping his own hand back. "No, no, focus! Listen to me, you two. I'm pretty sure I know the source of our powers."
A hand grabbed the half-brick as it sailed through the air towards Michael's hand, and before long, that exact same hand was throwing the half-brick right back at the two jackasses who thought it'd be fun to play around at the park the same day as a solemn event. "Fudge off!" Destiny announced, adjusting her stance in a baseball-like move before throwing the half-brick back.
Her companion rolled his eyes as he watched the two 'jagoffs' grab their half-brick and scurry away. "You could have said something much better when you threw it back to them." Ed mused, rolling up to the group in his wheelchair, taking a moment to lock it in place and tap his fingers against his chin, thinking. "Something like 'right brick at ya' or 'this is the park, not the cementery!'"
Destiny rubbed her hands on her pants- both of them were wearing more formal outfits for the moment, with Ed fitting nicely on his vest and shirt (alongside a rather charming bowtie), whilst Destiny's own pants and skirt looked and felt like hand-me-downs. "Well, you forget," Destiny pointed at Michael with her thumb. "This guy's parents pay my bills every Christmas."
"Oh! So you're the—"
There was a brief second during which Destiny soared across the air and put her hand over Ed's mouth. "Yeah, the NICE GUY whose FAMILY owns the PLACE I WORK AT DURING THE HOLIDAYS."
She moved her hand, and Ed took a second to shrug. "I was going to give him a much better nickname. Yours lack that certain... uh... that certain French word I don't remember at the moment." He spun his wheelchair to the side, turning to face Finn. "But you would know, wouldn't you, Flannagan? In fact why don't you spill the beans already, hm? Spill all those beans you've got in your... bean... can— I can come up with a better one!"
"He figured you're up to something and asked to come over." Destiny explained, before turning over to Wilhelmina. "Is, uh, something wrong with that girl? Or is she the kind that actually likes rolling around in the park?" She pointed at the girl on the floor, raising an eyebrow. "Not judging, but just, y'know... weird."
"My guess is—" Ed raised an accusatory finger at Finn. "—you know who really did the crime, don't you?!"
Jem's phone would buzz at the moment with a message from no one but Jae herself: im at your house but youre not here, you didnt go to that dumb memorial thing did you???
Principal Shooter scurried back and forth in the backstage area (which was just the field behind the temporary stage), muttering to himself about something or other and flooding Zia with the insecure thoughts of an insecure man. Which made him a stark contrast to Mayor Goodman, the old man with an obvious brown toupee, currently conversing with the day's other speakers: a set of older couples who looked like they could buy the whole town twice over and still have plenty of money left.
"Ms... Brayne." Mayor Goodman cleared his throat as he approached Zia's mother, Dana. Zia would be able to tell he had forgotten her surname for a brief moment before remembering. "Let me once again thank you for taking charge and ensuring that today's event becomes one for the history books. Your city thanks you- and I've heard that we are livestreaming today to the You Tube, which means you'll be able to show it around. I don't know many high school music teachers who get the chance to direct a performance to the entire city."
In a move that was so subtle one might not even notice, Mayor Goodman pulled out a napkin out of his pocket and offered it to Dana. "Napkin? It is a hot day." No matter what she did next, he would continue, as if she had given him permission to prattle on. "Now, we're going to proceed as scheduled in 10 minutes. I will speak first, then the Chaynes, then the Tudors, and finally your band will perform. What song will they perform, again?"
Zia would sense a presence approaching her- that of Vanessa Tenorio, clad in her Sunday best, still looking as vaguely uninterested as possible. "When are we getting started?" She asked, violin in one hand, phone on the other. "We've been here for almost two hours now. Well, to be honest, I've only been here for one, because I knew it'd take a while for us to get started."
"Excuse me?"
Even though she had traded the light blues for more somber grey (with her hijab now a tender black), Esther Byun's smile was still rather noticeable, brimming brightly against the day's sky. But no change in clothing could disguise the true reason why she was here, as a notepad and a yellow folder filled with papers were still sticking out of her purse.
"Hi. I'm Esther Byun." She held out her hand towards Ivan, held it back for a moment, before holding it forward again. "I'm an investigator, a private investigator, currently working for a few concerned parents. I hope I'm not being too forward, but then again, I've found there's no use in... tiptoeing around my reason to be here."
"To put it bluntly, are you Mr. Bjelnic, and if so, may I ask you a few questions?"
All things considered, Luna Black did not look out of place.
Sure, she had chosen to wear all of her darkest colors that particular sunny day- hoodie, shirt, boots, shorts, all of them some shade of black- but considering the general mood on Chadwick Street (dour, quiet, empty), Luna did not look out of place. But the way she was acting certainly didn't help.
After making sure no one was looking at her (the only other person on the street was a guy cleaning up the sidewalk in front of his store with a broom), Luna practically ran across the street to meet up with her contact, her partner in crime, her secret weapon: Ivy Havilland. Who was standing in front of the modest apartment building in between the laundromat and the bike shop.
"Do you have the materials?" Luna asked, clearly trying to disguise her voice by just making it deeper. "Are you ready for the extraction?"
There had been a few signs. Harriet might have noticed Marko staring at her thru the boxes and the cases he was carrying into the store. She might have noticed him still staring at her as he organized the chips and the cookies. She might have seen him slightly glancing at her as he handed a soda bottle to a customer.
The staring in itself wasn't new: Marko tended to do that a lot, ever since he asked (read: demanded) Harriet move in to her home and asked his parents to let her work at the store in exchange for a place to stay. He would always stare at her, but more often than not, those stares would be followed by questions. "Are you still sad?" or "why aren't you eating your food?" or "you know you shouldn't say those sad things, right?" or "do you know how to work the cashier?" or "did you look into that therapy video I told you about?"
But this time, no questions... until Marko suddenly placed a 'we're closed' sign in front of the door after a customer walked out with their brand new bag of Doritos. "I wanna show you something." Marko said, taking off the yellow apron that was supposed to be their uniform. "I know it's gonna cheer you up." He threw the apron over the counter, holding out his hand for Harriet to give him hers.
"What is the one place on Earth you've always wanted to go?" He asked quietly, holding out his phone- an older model, but still useful. "Put it in there, show me the pictures. You're gonna love this. It's really gonna cheer you up." The repetition wasn't an accident. Marko was obsessed with cheering Harriet up. To a fault, some might say.
Hyeon's phone would soon start to ring. If he didn't pick it up, it would ring, ring, ring, then stop and start ringing all over again. Caller ID made the perpetrator clear: Nalia, no picture (she notoriously hated photos and made a point out of not having a Facebook account).
"Don't talk." Her gruff voice broke through the instant the call was picked up- it was rougher than usual, a sign she was either going through some hoarseness or had made an unwelcome return to tobacco. "I need you to come to the cemetery right now. Nadine's body has disappeared."
Silence, then heavy breathing. "Please, just come. Please." Click. Call over.
Edited by Stratofarius on May 25th 2020 at 11:06:52 AM
For a second I stare at the boy. I'm keeping my face so blank I can't even feel it, but I'm swearing so hard I swear that my 'are you for real' energy is coming out like beams of lamplight. I break eye contact, to look around the room, chew the little bits off the inside of my lip, then stare at the ceiling, drum out a beat on the bed, all the while trying to formulate all my words and woes. Then I sigh, get up to check the door, go over, push it all the way shut, and the moment it clicks closed, I begin.
"...Last week, I got jabbed by something not of this earth and got filled with glowy zappy stuff that frightens me even now. The next day, I freak out in the nurse's office and the next thing I remember, I'm in a tree with no clothes on and that nurse has apparently been blown to kingdom come. The next few days, I'm waking up exhausted in the morning with my boots by my bed and feel like I've been jogging for miles and still haven't recovered. During that time, I'm all stressed out with cramming for finals, thinking that what a couple of hours of checking boxes and writing essays are going to be what changes my life forever. Then the day comes, there's a CIA spook in my homeroom, everyone goes crazy about a bomb threat, I run to my locker and then everything goes black again. Then I wake up, in a wartorn entrance hall, wearing an outfit I've never seen before, and I get punched in the chest by an electric girl because everyone's suddenly convinced I'm some kind of dangerous psychopath. Now I'm stuck at home, monitored twenty-four-seven, prepping for a future career that doesn't even matter because I got handed a grade for nothing, all the world's gone to hell, everything I thought was important is meaningless, and for every bit of it I've got to constantly keep myself level and calm because if I lose it even for an instant, my body and mind are going to turn against me and I'll wake up to everybody hating me even more for things I don't remember and would never do anyway."
I sniff, shrug, and put on a smile. "So yeah, y'know, things are going pretty cool right now. How's your fortnight been?"
Edited by LizardOfAus on May 15th 2020 at 10:54:24 AM
And a Strange Figure Emerges.Kublai Khan; Michael Babayev; Spring Park
Wilmarina's Personal Space
He took the pen and signed, distracted for a wordless moment by an indignation that was not his own. Nadine seemed to have inspired little to her name but base recognition and cold appraisal, and inside him the boy was screaming- their best years of companionship had left him with only a fleeting impression, the vaguest shape of a personality, a dim outline of a human being, and over time his remorse at that shallow affect had been swallowed by the lurking fear that that shadow on the wall was simply all there was to Nadine Bauer. He knew just how right the skinny little fuck was.
Still, he permitted a cold gaze at the skinny little boy wreathed in what passed here for finery, disgusted instinctively by a class of which he was only barely conscious, standing at his full height as the girl behind blurted something whose urgency penetrated just a fraction too late, and then wheeled around to-
There was a soft thwack, and half a brick fired back from a hand that wasn't his. "Hi Destiny," he said, lamely, and nodded at the cripple. "Hi, uh, guy-"
Someone behind him hit the floor, to Michael's mind hit the deck, ate shit fuckin' hard bro. Kublai glanced over his shoulder for him, and swore more loudly than he intended.
The rest was instinct. He wasn't sure whose, exactly. He'd had a great many children and the boy had a habit of collecting younger siblings - it was a simple enough equivocation in either case. There was an endearing stockiness to her, but she was as light as any girl her age.
Scooped into his arms, he gently brushed the hair from her face and tried as best he could to assess the damages, finding nothing beyond the superficial. Behind him exploded a court intrigue; he gave it half an ear. Flannagan had nowhere to run.
"Shit," he muttered, shaking her gently by the shoulders. "You conscious?"
Edited by OG-Sama on May 20th 2020 at 4:42:08 PM
Wilmarina Printer, Spring Park
"Uh—unh!?" was Wilmarina's pithy exclamation as she suddenly found herself so close to Michael. There was no hiding the fact that her face was fire-truck red and seemingly teetering on the verge of implosion. "O-oh..."
She registered Michael's expression of concern and his question. {Safe to answer. There will be no splattered brains in this dimension. Shattered jaws pending. Adjust course of action? Y/N} She rubbed her eyes hoping to disguise the minuscule pinprick of red that shone from her retinas like a demonic back-light from that revelation alone. "I-I have a c-condition!" she answered quite hastily, once she had recovered a bit. "It's j-just this w-weak heart of m-mine. I get so sh-shocked when I'm s-surprised that I j-just f-fall over, heh..."
"I'm s-so sorry for the trouble, e-everyone. I-I'll be fine in a bit. H-honest," she rubbed her head as she looked around sheepishly at those gathered around her, eventually peeling herself off the ground slowly.
Edited by JumpingFruit on May 21st 2020 at 2:21:58 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.Spring Park
Jacob had expected a bit of anger at how callously he had dismissed Nadine Bauer. In fact, he knew that he probably deserved it. Speaking tactfully was never something he had been good at doing, another trait he had gotten from his father. Getting only a cold stare from this Michael guy was pretty good, considering how he had just spoken ill of the dead.
Still, the thin teen wouldn't take back his words. They were his honest thoughts, even if they shouldn't have been expressed. His mother would be ashamed if she raised a son that would try to backpedal and correct themselves. Things couldn't be unsaid once spoken.
Luckily, there was a slight break from the awkwardness in the form of a brick. Thankfully it both didn't hit anyone and provided a good distraction from Jacob's lack of care for the deceased. An ideal situation, in his opinion.
This gathering was just getting more and more people now, though. What was originally just two teens and an adult woman when he had walked over had now become a veritable mess of people having many different conversations all at once. It might have looked pretty conspicuous if there was anyone here looking for oddities in the crowd, though Jacob was aware that that was a paranoid way of thinking that shouldn't be given much weight.
"There's a bit of a line for getting information and updates from Finn, Edward," Jacob remarked. That was why he had come over here in the first place, but it was kind of ruined by so many others congregating around Wilmarina in the past few minutes. "Line seems to have stopped moving, ever since so many people came over here. I anticipate it won't start moving again for the next few minutes."
He started to take a few steps away from the cluster of people, not wanting to be near the middle of the group. Too much chaos, too much noise. It was messing with him, making him anxious and annoyed. He couldn't get stressed in public, that would make his powers act up and then everyone would notice.
Why is a yam attacking me?Spring Park, Backstage
Dana Brayne was already under more stress than the average school performance entailed, but the arrival of the Mayor seemed to set her jaw into a particularly unimpressed expression. She waved away the offered napkin as politely as she could and folded her arms, trying not to stare and whatever dead rodent he was wearing as a hairpiece, "Yes, the band is quite excited - I just wish it were under better circumstances." She managed to interject somewhat pointedly part way through the man's prattle, not that it halted his spiel one bit. "Well, after some negotiation with Mr. Shooter, we've decided on St. Louis Blues. A classic and it should keep the event from being too depressing, hmm?" Some distance away, Zia smirked as she heard the part her mother didn't say. And wake everyone up after however many hours you keep talking...
Vanessa's approach snapped the telepath back to the here and now, "I think it's set to be 15 minutes, but knowing who's speaking first..." She nudged her head in the general direction of the mayor, "Prooobably should have brought War & Peace for some light reading." Zia smirked.
Edited by Lt.BGob on May 24th 2020 at 2:34:18 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?”Marko's Shop
A place she wanted to go...
Harriet considered the question as she rested on the counter. She did have those sorts of getaway-of-a-lifetime ideas, once. Recalling them was like rediscovering an old, discarded note, crumpled and faded. And perhaps not the most presentable thing...
Whatever Marko had planned kept her wary, too. He provided her with lodging and a way to keep busy, but he would come to collect eventually. But he might come down harder if she refused...hrm. Might as well take the offer, she'd have something to gain this way.
She lifted the phone from Marko's hand, and put in a search for Áhkká, a mountain in Sweden, before placing it on the counter. Not exactly truthful, but she did have some interest in it. "The peak, if you would," she added, dulling her voice to mask the distrust.
Edited by AtlasStratus on May 25th 2020 at 1:36:58 AM
Timers to measure time, thermometers to measure thermomets, mometers to measure mom, and measuring containers to measure measurements.Somewhere on The Streets of Oldport
Alright, time to face the day. He didn't want to, but they really weren't giving him a choice here. He had to get his hands on some nebulous things his mother had asked for - he stopped listening about the time she shouted it - and so he'd taken a tour of town. If mother was too lazy to get up and do it herself, she could wait the extra few seconds... okay, the extra few minutes it would take. At this point, he was just a glorified errand boy anyway.
Ryan Thomas stretched as he marched on down the practically-silent sidewalk. Damn, was the whole town out at that... what was it... memorial thing? He tuned out and refused to go, not because he didn't care about the victims (he didn't) or the incident as a whole (second verse, same as the first), but because he saw the site of Spring Park on the morning news and saw THEM there. Ryan hadn't planned on going to start, but once he saw THEM he outright refused internally.
Well, it didn't matter. What mattered was the now, and the now was not overall going to be that different in the long run. Sure, he had to work out exactly what he wanted to do with the whole "hey guess what now your hair is different" thing and... recent events with the whole "hey let's put a bomb at the school" thing. Other than that, though, it really wasn't that different of a world, just a little stranger. It was a good thing that it felt like no one was out - the act of manually thinking about moving his hair in time with how he walked, acted and generally existed.
In any case, it could worried about later... maybe even tomorrow. For now, he'd... well, he'd work it out later. As long as nothing weird happened today, he'd be in the clear.
Barclay Residence, June 3rd
Ciro listened quietly as Simon vented, the occasional raise and dip of his brows betraying his silent desire to question him on a few points. Simon was the one responsible for what happened to the nurse and her office? His parents had him under constant watch? And, most importantly, he was having these episodes where he didn't remember anything?
It was that last point that Ciro latched on to, ruminating over it while he gave Simon a moment to catch his breath and a response to his question. "Honestly? Not much better. Almost... died, a couple of times, which I'd rather not think about. Not just me, either. My siblings-" There was a small, strangled sound as his throat seized up at the mere thought of it. He shook his head and continued no further- not like venting was going to help when one of his root problems was something he couldn't tell anyone about.
"But back to you. You're having these spells where you fall unconscious and wake up somewhere else, apparently having done things in that time that you'd never do? So maybe it's a..." Ciro's eyes wandered the room, trying to find the term he was thinking of, "...multiple personality? That thing you see in movies..." Well, usually horror movies, in Ciro's experience. Maybe better not to bring that up. "That might explain why you seemed- and sounded- so different when we came across you on the day of finals. I had no idea it was even you until that mask came off..."
Spring Park, June 13th
Before Josephine could explain her abnormally cold state, the two of them were joined by a face that Ciro hadn't seen since the day this whole mess had began- excluding the brief moment Ciro had noticed him in the hospital before being forcefully escorted back to his room. His surprise was tempered by his inability to get a word in edgeways, his bafflement at whatever Benedict was actually trying to say, and then his shame as his clothing was criticised, almost seeming to shrink into himself as Benedict briefly reached forward and then retracted himself. "Ah, sorry." was what Ciro ended up saying first. "It's the best I have..."
Not helped at all by the fact that, as of three days ago, he was living out of a duffel bag. It had been a hassle all of its own scrounging up the ironing board that his neighbour possessed but rarely seemed to use.
But such thoughts on appearance weren't nearly as important as the point Benedict eventually got to. Ciro stiffened at the revelation, quickly casting his head about in a manner much less inconspicuous than Benedict's movements had been. Once Ciro was sure no-one could be eavesdropping, though, he turned back to the two of them with a hushed voice. "You mean the- the things that attacked us last month? You know what they are?"
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGobSpring Park
David had been standing there, looking at the flier on the ground, for a good while now. At first, he'd tried listening in, but he quickly found that from where he stood, that was difficult enough, so he'd quickly given it up and slipped his headphones over his ears again.The music playing over them was doing little, however, to alleviate the boredom. By now he'd looked at the flier, at the ground around it, at the little dirt stains, at the leaf that it had fallen on, and at anything else his eyes could catch in the surroundings.
That was not going to make for a good story for the bros (tm). That was stuff he mostly already knew they were saying.
He sighed.
—Fine then.
He had hesitated, cause even if- to his eyes- they were conspiracy theorists with maybe not the greatest benefit of the doubt, it was awkward to approach them and ask for information still. But oh well, he'd change the story later or something. Nobody would know.
He approached literally the first person of the fliers-handing bunch that he saw, and approached with:
"So... you're the consp- I mean, the guys who think there's some ulterior truth to all these incidents, huh?"
Almost said 'conspiracy theorists, he did, but he caught himself and stopped midway through. He briefly wondered how often they'd been called that, but to be fair, that was to be expected given what he and the general public believed. Still, he asked, hoping to get some juicy information to laugh at over a beer or something.
"Been wondering, how'd ya figure that? Like, it seems pretty likely it actually was some kinda incident an' stuff, so... Y'know. Y'guys got some evidence or something?"
Edited by DarknessAwaits on May 25th 2020 at 11:10:32 AM
Not helping the problem of giving off the aura of being a couple of good-for-nothing teenage punks, or at least complete wannabes, Ivy started to push down on an invisible surface while loudly shushing Luna as she ran across the street. Luna was being terribly suspicious, and Ivy (who decided to dress entirely in black for some reason) needed to stop her before she got themselves caught!
Right after that her words started to fail her, so instead of reprimanding her she could only hold up the plastic grocery store bag she had on her person.
"I-It's r-r-i—all in there," she whispered. "And I w-wouldn't call it an extraction, we're just...r-r-rob—"
"—taking stuff."
Carefully, she tried to hand over the bag filled with equipment that could change the course of history with their discovery. Almost slipped it considering how sweaty her hands were, but she managed.
"I d-don't...I'll leave the, uhh...actual...br-reaking part to you. And don't lower your voice like that; it's not fooling a-anybody."
His siblings? What about his siblings? The way he choked up like that, did they almost get killed too? Do they even go to our school? What could have happened to make...he's changing the subject. Maybe it's best not to pry.
Multiple per...Another personality...another me, in my head, doing god knows what while I'm asleep? "...No...no, no, no, that can't be it..." What does he think I'm crazy? That I'm totally off my gourd? What the hell does he know about me?! Just because...no, no, that's it, he wouldn't know anything about me. About my medication, about me seeing things...hallucinations, like something talking to me, like...l-like when I get angry or stressful and I start seeing something, and then I get really angry and I black out and then I wake up and I've done something and oh god I've just described the incredible hulk. Getting light headed, sitting down again. Calm down, calm down.
"Can't...Sh-shouldn't jump to conclusions. Got to be something more logical, there's GOT to be... Look, there are other students with powers, right? Someone with mind control powers? Can't be that much of a leap. S-So maybe, that someone's latched onto me, somehow, f'r some reason, a-a-and maybe he's using the times when I get mad, when my powers flare up, to try and take over my brain, make me do things so that I'd get blamed for them. I mean, that's possible, right? It...it could be?"
And a Strange Figure Emerges.Spring Park:
Josephine gasped at Ciro's comment about her coldness. The girl touched her hands to check if what he said was true.
"Am I..."
The appearance of a man named Benedict Tudor cut off her speech, turning her attention towards him. Like Ciro, he was a familiar face, albeit one that did not elicit any feeling of comfort or pleasure. To Josephine, it seemed that Benedict did not remember her that much, at which she felt a small tinge of relief, as she possessed little memories of him as well. Still, the girl did not step away from him, knowing he was "one of us".
Nothing else mattered except this: the source of their superpowers. The origin of the cursed blessing that Benedict supposedly knows. Something pulsated in her veins, a feeling unfamiliar to Josephine Engel. Energy of life coursed in her bloodstream and nervous system. The girl could control it, but her inability to pinpoint the reason and effects of this new phenomenon irked her off... and excited at the same time.
"It better not be just a theory of yours. If what you say is true, then... who did all this? Who is responsible for...us?"
Everything that lives is designed to end."And she ooop-" Destiny muttered, watching as Wilmarina was scooped up by Michael. "-ey, nice catch, boss." She added, with Edward giving her a quick glance and mouthing the words "boss?", which prompted her to mouth back "the hell am I supposed to call him", which made Edward narrow his eyes and mouth " did you just say banana?" Shaking her head, Destiny looked back at Wilmarina and narrowed her eyes. "Have I seen you before?"
"Probably at school when we all got our powers." Edward mused, as the mere mention of the word 'powers' made Destiny throw her hands up and groan. "What? C'mon. You of all people should know by now that when we all reunite, it's always mostly people with powers, save for the occasional normal dude."
At that moment, David barged in, asking about a conspiracy. When he finished talking, Edward just pointed at him with a smile. "See? He probably has 'em too!"
"Shut up." Destiny grunted, patting Edward down onto his chair. "Jushhhh shut up." And then, to Michael: "He's, uh, talking about... uh, fantasy shit, y'know, roleplaying and stuff."
Edward silently stared at Destiny. "Wow. That was bad." He spun around, facing Flannagan once more. "And not the matter at hand! Now spill it, Finn, before me and Jacob— but mostly Jacob— give you the one-four."
"The what for!" Destiny piped up, burying her face so deep into her hand, it might never come back.
"That's what I said." Edward replied, just in time for Finn and Wilmarina to sense something pulling them away— as if reality around them was now confined to a simple screen, and they were sucked into a white void, forced to witness—
"Of course, dear, Daddy will have someone pick up a cake for you on the way there, and then you and your friends can just go wild." Benedict grumbled into his earbud as he shut the door behind him, the sound of the security systems re-activating echoing through the enormous empty manor. "Don't forget about the curfew, okay?" He added, before blowing a kiss to the empty air and tapping his ear. Almost instantly, all sweetness disappeared from his voice as he glared at the person before him. "You can't keep doing this, Brayne."
"Nice to see you too." Zia muttered, stumbling deeper into Benedict's home, dragging her left leg along with it. "I made sure to... cover up the wound before I came here. I know how angry you got when I got blood on your carpets last time." She leaned against a pillar, chuckling as she waved her hands around. "No, no, Brayne, you can't get it on the carpet, Donna will kill me!" She announced in a higher pitched voice, before almost falling flat on her face.
"Stop that." Benedict growled, rolling up his sleeves and tapping a screen on the wall. "I don't have the strength to lift you up, you... imbecile." He sighed, turning towards the screen when a smiling emoticon appeared upon it. "AMY, please execute Protocol Annoyance. Make sure to wipe out all leftover data." The screen chirped back happily, and got to work, just as ordered, allowing Benedict the chance to turn around and see an angry glare on Zia's face. "What?"
"I'm trying to stop myself from choking you." She growled under her breath, her eyes sagging heavily.
Benedict rolled his eyes and waved it all aside. "She's my most popular product. And mine is a special version." He made his way over to Zia's side, and gingerly held her by her wrist. "Besides, you weren't here when we made the choice. It was this or... well, let's just say Amy asked for this."
"Mhm." Zia growled again, watching as Benedict pulled up the sleeve of her vest and grimaced at the wounds festering beneath. "Yeah. She asked for this, I'm sure."
Clearly holding back a gag, Benedict let go of the vest and glared up at Zia. "Look, you want me to help you or not? It's not just about my image, alright, I can change some footage and pretend you were never here. But I have children now. I have a family. What do you think is going to happen to my daughter if she walks in here and sees you? You really think they're going to let her walk away from all this?"
That seemed to be enough to shut Zia up- either that or her wounds were really getting to her. Benedict threw her arm around his shoulder and tried to take her towards a nearby room. Keyword there being tried. Benedict hadn't changed much during the past few years, apart from his hair being a few inches longer and the bags under his eyes, which were now a permanent fixture. But Zia had become stronger, and as a result, consequently heavier.
But it's not like Benedict was even capable of carrying her in the first place. And so, Zia did most of the work for him.
"AMY, if you would?" Benedict said to the air above him, and a small part of the wall slid open, revealing what looked like a rather normal (if considerably cramped when compared to the manor around it) bedroom.
He struggled to help Zia to the bed, dropping her there and coughing slightly when a cloud of dust filled the air. "Haven't had a chance to use it lately. Alright, I'll get some things sorted out, put my digital duplicate online, and then we'll look at your wounds."
Before he could leave, Zia grabbed him by the wrist. "You... didn't put a window here like I asked last time." She mumbled, vaguely smiling at a spot on the wall besides her. "I really want a window."
Benedict rolled his eyes again. "AMY, window, please." On command, the wall shimmered, and suddenly a window was standing right there, letting a beautiful ray of sunlight in. "That enough?"
Zia nodded, sighing. "Yeah, that enough for now."
Her eyes remained dimly focused on the fake window, and Benedict watched as her breathing went from pained to just slow. "Brayne, are you alright?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. "I can tell you're quite injured, but I haven't heard back from our contacts about what happened at your latest incursion, which means I don't exactly know what your situation is."
Zia's eyes slowly drifted to the side, facing Benedict's. With trembling lips, the words crawled out of her mouth, hoarse and raggedy. "They're all gone." She whispered, watching as Benedict's eyes went wide. "On our side... they captured... all of us. Killed some." She closed her eyes, trying to hide the tears pooling up in them. "I'm the last one left. And I'm powerless."
Benedict's hands went limp. He didn't speak for what seemed like a solid minute. When he did, he made sure to gulp everything down first. "Okay." He nodded, looking down. "Get some rest. I'll have AMY cook something up for you."
By the time the door closed behind him, Benedict let out only a single gasp, still trying to hold everything back. His finger tapped the earbud, and a gentle ringing echoed through his mind. A few seconds later, the voice of Naveen Pandya came through. "Mr. Tudor, I assure you that whatever your worries are, we are not—"
"Did the Dark Dragon do it?" Benedict growled. "Just answer me. Did he do it?"
Silence. Naveen cleared his throat. "We don't know yet."
"Okay." Benedict looked back at the hidden door and nodded. "Get the Overseers. I'm ready to make a deal."
"That sounds great, Ms. Brayne." Mayor Goodman nodded, wiping his own forehead with the napkin he had previously offered. "Well, our plan is to go on in the next ten minutes. If you have any last minute words to offer to your band, I suggest you do it now. Until then, know that Oldport is... very grateful for your services." And with that (plus another nod and a handshake), Mayor Goodman departed the area, returning to his many aides and speechwriters.
"Can't you make them go faster?" Vanessa grumbled. "I could have been doing so many cooler things right now. Also I'm pretty sure the people were supposed to be 'honoring' wouldn't have even come to this event." She rolled her eyes all the way to the top, throwing her head back as well. "This is boring..."
Ciro's quiet response prompted Benedict to not only retract his hands, but even avert his eyes from the other boy, covering his mouth for a moment. "Uhm, yes—" He coughed up after both Ciro and Jo asked for more information. "—no, no, that's not what I meant. Don't jump up to conclusions. Pay attention!" He hissed, sliding back into his holier-than-thou attitude.
"What I meant is that I know the source of our powers. Or at least I have a theory of it, as Ms. Engel so eloquently put it." Benedict leaned in, lowering his voice. "Now, I need you two to not overreact to what I'm about to say, but: I have been studying our powers intensely in the hopes of uncovering methods of controlling them, and to do that I had to steal some genetic material from each of you."
He raised his hand before either Ciro or Josephine spoke a single word. "Before you ask, it was mostly hair, or sometimes I'd swipe one of your cups, never anything highly illegal. But it wasn't getting me anywhere. I simply do not have the equipment necessary to perform this kind of research. So, I decided to turn the proverbial needle onto myself. And I ran a couple of tests on my blood, using my father's contacts and disguising it as a simple cholesterol test."
Benedict sighed, wiping some sweat from his neck. "I analyzed the data. I even secretly contacted other scientists so that I could get it double-checked... which was a waste of time because I know more than them. But no matter. I eventually came to the conclusion that there is something foreign in our blood. Something that does not belong there. But I do not know what that something is."
There was a silent beat before Benedict felt the urge to explain itself. "Do you understand what that means? I could look at a single blade of grass and tell you its entire molecular composition, pinpoint every single detail about its life, its history, maybe even its future. When I look at the information I found on my blood, I think of nothing. I am the smartest man in the universe, and I don't know what it is. Which means two things: one, the people who did this are working far above the field of popular sciences— forget what Rogers High taught you, this has nothing to do with genetics— and two, the people who did this to us not only have that power, but they have the foresight to ensure I could not figure out their secrets."
"Gentlemen, we are dealing with forces far more powerful than us here."
Benedict went silent again, and then quietly reached over and adjusted Ciro's tie, leaving it perfectly centered. He brushed the other boy's shoulders and then sighed. "Sorry, it was just... annoying me... and then your reaction annoyed me further so I decided to fix it."
"O-oh." Marko gasped when Harriet handed him back his phone. "I thought you were going to choose some place more... normal. But okay. Anything to cheer you up right now." He stared long and hard at the pictures, as if something might pop out of them, before quietly putting the phone down. "It might be pretty cold... my power keeps us warm, but the farther away we get from the portal, the colder it'll get... b-but I'm sure you'll like it!" He hastily added the last part, worried he might be discouraging Harriet.
He scooped up a piece of chalk from his pocket, and motioned for Harriet to follow him as he headed into one of the back rooms, where they often took their lunches. Without saying a word, Marko closed his eyes and drew a door on an empty wall with his chalk. His eyes remained closed until the door was complete, at which point he put the chalk back on his pocket and smiled at Harriet. "Watch this." He whispered, reaching over and knocking on the drawn door three times.
Immediately after his knocks, a strange green ray of energy spread over the white outline. Once it completed the door-like shape, the insides of the outline were suddenly replaced... by the peak of the Áhkká mountains. Marko held out his hand for Harriet, hoping she would take them before heading in, but no matter what she did, once she stepped through the door, she'd find herself standing right in the middle of the Áhkká mountain peak, just as she had asked.
"Cool, isn't it?" Marko asked out loud. "That's my power. I can do portals. No 'big deal', y'know what I mean?" He said, adding air quotes to 'big deal' for some reason.
Luna could only groan and sigh at Ivy's inability to go along with it. "You're absolutely no fun." She murmured, digging through the grocery bag. "Where's the nail gun that teleports you— okay, yeah, here it is." She pulled it out of the bag and handed it to Ivy. "You're gonna be the lookout. I'm gonna leave a window open so if you see someone coming towards us, you teleport in, warn me, and then we both teleport out."
After pulling out the identity concealing mask, Luna set down the bag and put on the mask as she continued to explain the situation. "Yeah, don't worry about that, Ivy. I'm gonna turn into electricity, sneak in, and then turn back into a person. And then after this, we're gonna find that time machine. I've got this, dude, relax!" With her mask finally on, she turned around and flashed a grin at Ivy. "How do I look— oh fuck."
Looking out at the empty street, Luna suddenly flinched at the side of a figure making its way down the sidewalk. "I think that's Ryan, Ryan Thomas, one of the top fuckwads at school." She hissed. " Why the fuck do these people always show up around me? " She pointed over at Ryan. "Distract him?"
Spring Park, Backstage The urge to roll her eyes was nearly overwhelming, but Dana managed to keep her face suitable grateful, "Thank you, Mayor Goodman." She nodded, looking over his shoulder to a few of the gathered bandmates and smiling reassuringly, "And good luck with your speech." With that Ms Brayne quickly exited the earshot of Goodman or his various lackies, muttering various obscenities to herself and rubbing her temples. "Alright kids, get over her for a minute!" She called, spotting Zia and Vanessa a little way off and waving for them to come over.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Nadine wouldn't stop retching until the last number." Zia grimaced with a sigh, trying to forget the her lifeless body and the sensation of bleeding out that came with it, "If the speeches go longer than 20 minutes, I'm personally burning down the stage. Pretty sure I could find a good soundtrack to that too..." She smirked to Vanessa, spotting her mother a little way off calling them over. Brayne was half way there when a few interesting snippets from the crowd rose above the din. After a moment's thought, Zia pretended her phone was vibrating and made a few vague gestures to convey she'd be there in a minutes before disappearing behind a nearby corner. She Took a deep breath, and focused on a cluster of minds not far away.
Spring Park, Tudor's Story Time
You know something doesn't have to be 'highly illegal' for it to be creepy as hell, right? Zia's voice seemed to drift somewhere between a thought and a sound amongst the group, How else could we have socks with sandals or your search history, Ben? Ben himself would feel a sensation like winking. Anyway, you said those... things put something in us. Could they still control them? Control us? The voice was concerned, but thoughtful. Could you find a way to remove them, Ben? A few notes of the St. Louis Blues crept their way into the telepathic stream, whispers just below comprehension. Oh, and hi. The group would have the impression of an apologetic chuckle, but no sounds accompanying it.
“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?”Wilmarina Printer, Spring Park
Wilmarina had just gotten up from her most recent collapse when her legs threatened to fail her again, and she had to lean against Michael for support. "Fuck! O-oh. Sorry there, M-Michael. I didn't m-mean to, I s-swear! S-Sorry!" She scrambled to recover from her mistake, lurching away with an expression of the utmost panic upon her face, her bangs swaying away from her eyes for a split second.
Her eyes had rolled upwards, revealing the faintest traces of the horrifically toothy mouths of Huginn and Muninn screaming silently in her eye sockets. Another moment passed and her eyes were as they always were, the color of melted chocolate, warm and mundane as if they'd never been eldritch receptacles of the far future. A sinister red spark shone in her eyes, like a film projector burning distant images onto her retina, which indeed could still be seen if one looked past her curtain-like bangs, like a twistedly exclusive stop-motion puppet show.
"I'm sorry, s-so sorry," Wilmarina apologized again. "I hope I'm not t-taking up too m-much of your time with all m-my personal d-drama." She giggled sheepishly, hiding behind her bangs as if nothing had ever happened in the first place.
Edited by JumpingFruit on Jun 8th 2020 at 10:08:34 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.Barclay Residence, June 3rd
"Uh." Ciro said, which was the politest way he could manage to convey 'no, Simon, I really don't think that's possible or logical at all'. In the face of the British boy's rising panic, however, Ciro was quick to raise his palms, casting around for something to say to help calm him down. "Hey, actually, speaking of the others, um... you know Zia, right? The girl in our class with the purple hair, she was there at finals too? She can... read minds, I think that's the word for it. She can know what's going on in your head. More importantly, I've been her friend for years. I know we can trust her."
"So if there is something in your mind, something that's making you do these things, then she should be able to find it? And then... I don't know what we'd do from there, but at least we'd know what we're dealing with."
Spring Park, June 13th
Even though Benedict had told them not to over-react, Ciro couldn't stop the look of bewilderment that crossed his face as Benedict admitted to stealing genetic samples from 'them'- from the two of them specifically, or everyone? Either way, it sent an uncomfortable shiver down Ciro's spine, one that wasn't helped by the subsequent reveal that Benedict had experimented on himself too. It was only the rich boy's persistency with his words that stopped Ciro from getting a word of reprimanding in.
The revelations didn't stop there. While Benedict's conclusion, in all honesty, wasn't too surprising- the people responsible were far more powerful than all the students involved? Ciro had been assuming that from the start- the talk of bloodwork got Ciro thinking back to a conversation he'd had two weeks ago, on the fated day of the finals.
"...ingested some of his blood... analysed it... self-replicating properties..."
"So Daigo..." Whatever thought had been about to escape was interrupted by Benedict's hands on his tie and Zia's voice in his head. Flinching at both, Ciro instinctively darted his head around for any sign of his purple-haired friend, only returning back when he felt Benedict's hand move to his shoulder. Face flushing from the sudden contact, both in his head and on his body, Ciro skittered a step away and stared resolutely at the ground. Zi! Don't scare me like that...
Though that was what Ciro thought, there was a familiar warmth that welcomed Zia when she brushed his mind. And yet, beyond that, there were ruminations, the sensation of Ciro tucking things away to keep them hidden from his friend- a sensation Zia would have felt anytime she ducked into his mind during the past two weeks.
"Um... that's Zia you're hearing." Ciro whispered to Josephine, unsure whether she'd experienced this before. "This is her- this is what she can do. But it's okay, she's a friend, she'll be somewhere around here..."
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGobSpring Park - The Ivan Corner, Starring Esther Byun
Ivan found himself blinking slowly. He'd come here to think, to finally get away from all the question and the "discussions" and it was nonsense, wasn't it, people were already dead and he couldn't even fit the pieces together any more, it was like he was in a circle and-
and yet. What else could he do, sit here in silence, going around in circles in his own brain? Well, it's not like he had many alternatives, except for the one in front of him - and besides, he could do with asking a few questions of his own - so he suppressed another sigh, pulled out his notepad all over again, fished around in his jacket for his pen - finding it after a few moments of mounting nervousness as he worried he'd forgotten it somewhere - and scribbled out a response. Only if you tell me what's there to smile ab- no, no that was stupid, lashing out wouldn't solve anything. He tore out the page of his notepad with excruciating neatness, crumpled it, and pocketed it before trying again. Yes, I am. I can try to answer some questions was as far as he got before he paused again to consider his options: he could ask her why him, he was burning to know why he of all people would be useful to ask, or he could just agree to answer and ask partway through.
Well, his intent was, in part, to gather information on- to gather information, so it would be best to be straightforward about it. Yes, I am. I can try to answer some questions, but why would you choose me to approach?
Spring Park
Zia felt Ciro's surprise as if it were her own, twitching slightly and feeling her cheeks blush sympathetically, Sorry! Sorry, Ciro- She started, just to her friend this time, I just wanted to scare the crap out of Ben! The impression of a mischievous grin formed behind the words, even as she worried at Ciro's sudden secretiveness. Of course she didn't want to go riffling through his deepest darkest secrets - she wasn't even really comfortable knowing about everyone's surface thoughts. Still, the way he seemed to hide it was concerning. There were more pressing things to consider, however.
Hi Jo - I'm just skimming the top of your thoughts, so don't worry. Zia chuckled, feeling a little guilty for the intrusion, I can't see your secret loves or any embarrassing memories if you don't want me too. Jo would find a sensation like winking tickle her right eye lid. Anyway, you were saying something about Daigo, Ciro? He was some kind of... vampire-thing. Or thought he was. Zia shuddered, leaning more against the stage wall and rubbing her neck uncomfortably.
“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?”

Barclay Residence, June 3rd
It wasn't hard to notice the weird, one-sided tension between Simon and his parents, though Ciro could only guess at its exact cause. Was it because Simon had ended up in the hospital? Or did they know about the events leading up to that? Ciro nodded back at Simon and followed him up the stairs, giving his parents a small wave before they disappeared beneath the landing. It'd been too long since Ciro had visited someone like this, even if the reason for it was less than ideal.
The cat was a welcome distraction from his turbulent thoughts. He smiled down at it as its owner quietened its meowing with a round of petting. "Hey there!" he greeted the feline, feeling self-conscious about it the second the words left his mouth. He huffed, hand coming up to scratch the nape of his neck. "Um, what's their name?"
Edited by whizzerd on May 10th 2020 at 7:28:26 PM
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob