Baklava

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

The Karaoke Night gif is complete! It's too big for the guild apparently, but here's the link:

imgur.com/Tfcb6Zm

@Riffus Maximus@Lasrever@Apokalipse@Diggerton

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

@The 42nd Gecko That IS totally an option, just so you know.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

@Holy Grail It's in the first OOC post

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Hazel bumping into Callan (from the discord chat).

Check out the gallery channel on discord for more. :>

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

@The 42nd Gecko LOL For real, come on guys. Don't be chicken.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝕟𝕕, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 // 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕒𝕤𝕥 // 𝟙𝟙𝟘𝟘

"I'm just saying that you can't be sure that it wasn't you."

"That's ridiculous. Of course it wasn't me."

"Marijuana is a memory loss drug, so maybe you just don't remember."

"I would remember."

"Well, how could you if it just erased your memory?"

"That's not how it works."

"Now, how do you know how it--"

The iPad was unceremoniously plucked from Callan's grip, leaving her hands blossoming outward in a "what the fuck?" sort of gesture as she looked up at the guard looming over her bed-- which was very uncomfortably hard, she might add.

"Not a fan?" she half smiled awkwardly. By now, she already knew what the response would be, but she had to keep believing they'd respond one day. It was for her own sanity, really. Plus she was still getting used to this whole "you're a monster and we all hate you" persona she'd suddenly acquired. Aside from having to be a million times more careful when pressing down on the home button on the iPad, she didn't feel as different as everyone was making her out to be.

She remembered the nauseated feeling when she hugged her parents, in the back of her mind fearing what would happen if she squeezed them too tightly. Her mother had been in tears, her father had been on the brink, and her brother's face had looked so vacant she was sure he probably thought he was dreaming. But by the time they'd all come to see her off, a duffel full of toiletries and her favorite things in hand, Cal had long since been wide awake-- and not just because the bed was rock hard.

"It's time to go," the guard said matter-of-factly, extending his hand and beckoning. She handed him her duffel bag and frowned. She would have been more upset at the guard's rudeness, but, to be fair, he had already asked her to hand everything over. How long ago did he ask that again? Was it five minutes? She felt like it was five minutes.

"Uh... I'm gonna get that back--" Cal started to ask, but was interrupted by a a pair of ankle and wrist cuffs being slapped on by a second guard, "...right?" Again? This definitely wasn't how she envisioned becoming a superhero would be. But then again, her younger self had always held true to the subconscious delusion that the day she got special powers would be the day all subnaturals became as loved and adored as Precursors. Because all the "bad" subs-- sorry, mages-- would suddenly lose their powers or something. She didn't know. Younger Cal wasn't exactly reasonable and her parent's over-the-top devotion to Dreamcatcher wasn't a huge help.

When the guard only sighed, her eye brows went up and her chin tucked down-- she was pouring as much black sass into the expression as she could muster, trying to imitate her Aunt Tamicka. It wasn't very effective. A reminder of the grim possibly that she may never seeing her family again is the only thing her playful look accomplished. No more Christmas cookies, no more Thanksgiving pie at Gramma's, no more Easter baskets with year old candy from Uncle Bubby....

Her stomach growled. Loudly. As she was loaded into the car that would take her where all the other kids would be leaving for USARILN, she got the distinct feeling she wouldn't be getting lunch that day.

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝕟𝕕, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 // ℂ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕟 ℂ𝕦𝕝𝕡𝕒𝕖 𝟙 // 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕤 // 𝟙𝟡𝟘𝟘

---

The other students didn't seem all that willing to chat about what was in store. They were all chained together and marched into what looked like a large fish tank. The ride was long and, worst of all, boring. They couldn't put on a movie or something? What about the aberration kids? Didn't they need a distraction so they didn't turn psycho or something? Cal had only really skimmed the mage forums so far, so she couldn't remember. She made a mental note to take a closer look at those Stickied Topics again later.

She glanced up at the sky as the sun began to set, it's beauty warped by the surrounding material that wasn't quite glass and wasn't quite steel. It was getting late. She would have smirked, but a yawn forced it's way through instead. She hadn't gotten much sleep that night-- nor the night before that. The dull hum of the engine and the light swaying and bouncing of the truck was soothing against all odds. She leaned forward to rest her face in her hands, lightly chuckled at some boy in the back's comment about a mini fridge, felt a sudden pressure on her shoulder, and was out like a light.

During her snooze, she had an absurd dream about Prism and Sparrow flying over their convoy and fighting a bunch of weird monsters. This was immediately followed by a nice little dream about James Duncan and a giant burrito. Well... it was nice until he suddenly encased the whole world in yellow jello.

“They all deserve it," he mumbled in a woman's voice.

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟛𝕣𝕕, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 // 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 // ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟛 // 𝟘𝟛𝟘𝟘

---

Callan awoke to a loud bang as the see-through door to the truck fell open. She inhaled sharply and stretched her arms above her head before groggily standing up. She shuffled along with the rest of the students as they were all herded into the chamber where they were supposed to wait for... who was it again? The Conductor?

She became much more alert as the Director, Lina Zhang, entered the room and spoke. Trouble? What trouble was she talking about? She didn't get much time to dwell on the matter before she found herself surrounded by several guns-- aimed at the ready. She wondered how much damage they'd be able to inflict on her with the power draining cuffs on, but sincerely hoped she wouldn't find out.

"Yeah I have a question," one of the boys spoke up right off the bat, "how long are we expected to be chained up, and more importantly, what sort of freedom will be expected at this pri-- school."

The older boy standing beside Director Lina answered after a moment's hesitation.

"Well the chains are more of a safety measure- for you," he replied before taking another sip from his coffee. Mmmm... coffee....

The older boy went on to answer the white-haired kid's question, reassuring everyone that the cuffs and chains weren't meant to be a permanent sort of thing-- though that wasn't the part Cal was particularly worried about.

"Of course, the difference is breaking those rules comes with much, much, much harsher consequences," he added, eyeing the Director's gun for a moment as if to communicate this, "So, yeah, it's a mixed bag. It's better you understand that as quickly as possible though."

For all his effort, there still seemed to be plenty of other students hell-bent on voicing their concerns. Concerns that Cal could certainly get behind, but was just too tired and hungry to care for. If not giving them a chance to eat or sleep for the past 12 hours or so was part of their plan to kill their will power upon arriving here, Cal would be the first to admit defeat.

Let's write a formal letter of complaint tomorrow. Just shut the fuck up and let'em put the damn ankle things on, she mused a bit cattily to herself. If she'd been a Sim, she was sure she would have either collapsed on the floor, butt up, or died of starvation. She was long past the crying and desperate hand signal stage.

The collective murmuring only grew louder in volume. Some youngster was shouting what was likely foreign profanities while others were cracking jokes. Another girl somehow slipped her cuffs, effectively causing a bit of a stir as other students edged as far away from her as they could. She was advocating an end to all the bickering, but was likely only making things worse. Above them all, however, the voice of the metal-looking chick chained beside her carried enough weight to make Cal remember all the thoughts she'd successfully being repressing these past few days.

“We’re just like wild animals to them! They don’t care who you are, how old you are or where you come from! We’re monsters. Monsters to be tamed and disposed of, nothing less.”

Nothing less.... Cal glanced at the girl before looking down at the ground sadly. If she was going to prove her worth to these people-- people like Director Zhang-- she really had her work cut out for her....

"Just wanna go to sleep," she muttered in defeat, anxiously awaiting whatever was bound to happen next.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

@Juro Yessir.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Just wanted to mention that Emma and Allison's pictures are both by the same artist.

Because I've a strange addiction to coincidences, it would seem.

(That's not just a "probably because they look similar" sort of thing, either. kuvshinov-ilya.deviantart.com -- one of my fav dA artists)

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

✮ Stardust Memory ✮

I'm waiting on @wxps350 before I post. Just to be clear.