Darcs

Nowhere. Somewhere. Everywhere (OOC)

@Raijinslayer Ayyyy long time no see Raijin!

Demon Daydreams and Schemes

Name: Aliocha Villabaso-Arai
Appearance:

Ali--

Age: 22
Major: Communication and Rhetoric Studies
Minor: Journalism

Part Time Job: Cocktail waitress at Frostina's, 8pm-2am $7.25/hr (Irregular schedule)
Money:

Wallet; $23.53 in cash, $40.00 on bus pass, $14.97 on prepaid gift-card
Checking; $80.96
Savings; $50.04

Residence: Lives with grandmother, step-grandfather, and great-grandmother in Blossom Heights apartment complex, often spends nights in various co-ed dorms.
Family:

• Father; Ernesto Villabaso, 41, Bouncer
• Mother (estranged); Arisu Arai, 50, Secretary
• Step-father (estranged); Dai Ito, 54, Mayor's aide
• Half-sister; Sayuri Ito, 17, Secondary school student
• Grandmother; Nishi Sammiya (née; Arai), 75, Seamstress
• Step-grandfather; Eiji Sammiya, 69, Retired
• Great-grandmother; Yui Tsurimi, 106, Retired

Hobbies:

Going out; Ali enjoys going out on the town-- be it shopping at a thrift store, or going to get a bite at some restaurant. She receives a certain thrill from just going out with other, and being around other people going about their lives-- it's not often she can make full days of this though, due to her very minimal funds.
Swimming; You can swim in catfish pond for free! She's enjoyed swimming ever since her father first taught her how wen she was a child.
Biking; Seeing as her bike and the unreliable city transit are her two main modes of transportation, she's certainly lucky she enjoys riding around on the thing.
Jogging; For whenever the bike is in need of repairs, and the bus is late.
Socializing; Odd to think of it as a hobby, but Ali likes meeting new people, and flexing her gift of gab.
Day drinking; Rather self-explanatory.
Exploring the human psyche; i.e. drugs
Appreciation of the human form, kinesthetic and the skill of a beat conductor; She enjoys going to raves and other parties with live DJs.

Aspirations: That's a good question. If one were to ask Ali this question, she'd probably give you some witty answer with a half-a-grain of truth in it. She realizes that she'll probably end up working for the Springdale Post, working her way up to her own column, exposing some drug ring out of the shade (Shady Alley). Parties would become wine in the evening and weed becomes aspirin before bed, she'd take care of her grandparents until they died, and then inherit their studio apartment... That's the most probable future, but it isn't what drives her, not entirely-- maybe not even partially. She isn't particularly sure of what it is that drives her, all she knows is that in the present, in her heart of hearts, she wants to feel good. In a balancing act with those base desires, she sees her journalism as a way to improve the world as a whole.

Fears: Ali's biggest fear is very conceptual, but horribly existential in nature, Ali is afraid that she might never be aware of feeling happy, or that she may have already reached some emotional peak in her life. The idea that she might never be a truly happy individual scares her, and often drives her to distractions. Otherwise, she mostly avoids the normal things-- snakes, enclosed spaces, absurd heights... while not quite a 'fear,' she does take issue with government workers-- she doesn't have any problem with spiders though.

4 Positive Trails and 1 Negative Trait:

+ Jazz Cats Pt. 1/ Open-minded: A result of a rather 'colorful' life, Aliocha is very receptive to experiences and perspectives other may find questionable. While not exactly objective, she is less prone to make snap judgments about people or situations.
+ Dark Comedy Late Show/ Gonzo Journalist: As far as modern journalism is concerned-- Ali doesn't have an ounce of journalistic integrity in her bones. Funnily enough, this makes her the perfect Gonzo journalist. She doesn't seek the objective truth in her stories, but one that is balanced between what she can live with, and what she feels her audience can handle. She does this by throwing herself head first into stories, interviewing with the aplomb of a drug addled, drunken, sex-crazed, college underachieving PI.
+ 都会/ Relaxed: Not always an advantage, but Ali knows how to keep relaxed under the stressful conditions in the life of a college student. This typically means neglecting responsibilities until later... but at least she's relaxed for the now!
+ Teach Me/ Libertine: Ali is a proponent of free love, and is very open with her sexuality. Combining this with her accepting nature, Ali stands as an affront to conservative thinkers, or at least, the people who would have other act how they want them to-- and she wouldn't have it any other way.

- Out by 16, Dogs on the Scene/ Complete lack of discipline: It's a self-explanatory problem. It's less that she's a procrastinator, and more that she'd rather be doing something that she actually enjoys-- even if the thing she needs, but doesn't want to do is actually very important.

Demon Daydreams and Schemes

But waaiiit! What if she's 23 because she got held baaaaaaccckkk??? Because she's a slaaaaaaaaccckkkeeerrr??????

Ariel Darcs' Haunted Character Sheets

Madama Serpentine

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Madama Serpentine

Personality:

Madama Serpentine has gone about her existence wearing many masks-- there’s all sorts of masks for dealing with The Court, Madama Serpentine the smiling courtier, Madama Serpentine the light gossip over tea time, Madama Serpentine the bane of all of the lower planes of existence, Madama Serpentine the cog in a much larger plan of fate… then there was Madama Serpentine the lover, often confused with Madama Serpentine the whore, there were of indecent Serpentine, crazed Serpentine, killer Serpentine, plain Madama Serpentine and the Madama Serpentine who may as well be the court jester-- or CREVAN, anyway, these facades usually get made out into a single, complex masks. Each one unique, each one wearable for certain occasions. All of these masks make up the person she tries to exude today.

She strives to present herself to the world as a stark contrast to The Court, the only real world she's known, and the one she's come to resent the most, its mere aura seems to suck mirth from the life marrow of all the rooms that inhabit it. To contrast this, Madama Serpentine has cultivated the type of personality… or rather, something deeper than that, she’s cultivated an aura that has an almost drug-like effect to those around her. She’s relaxed-- a gifted conversationalist despite mostly listening to others, and someone most people will want around as a comrade within a few minutes of meeting.

It’s easy enough to see why, her near-constant smirk can make one feel fuzzy inside, while her dark eyes seem to be able to pierce whatever difference she has with anyone, making people feel she genuinely understands and cares.

A joker and drunkard, Madama Serpentine seems to walk with an almost drunken swagger, and is never far away from wine or lean-- to say she clumsily stumbles about is a mistake, however. Speaking with her, you may laugh at her jokes and sailor’s mouth, and feel hypnotized her overwhelming charisma and charm-- but below that, what most can detect is a certain calculation. This calculation is sad, and it signifies that this is not the complete Madama Serpentine-- there is a duality to the masks she wears, with the ones she hides beneath being a calculated choice, motivated by fear.

But who, you may ask, is Madama Serpentine beneath the masks?

Specialty:

Weapons

Participant:

Erik Edgemen

Affiliation:

The Court... For Now

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roleplayerguild.com/topics/180251-a-g…

Ariel Darcs' Haunted Character Sheets

ayy im back

Val

Valerie Aiomé

"¿Qué demonios fresco es esto?"

---

Nickname:

Val (prefers), Juan (former)

Birthdate:

June 24, 1988

Age:

28

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Homosexual, Bi-curious

Relationship(s):

Single

Family:

Luana Aiomé - Adopted daughter, age 3

Occupation:

Administrative Assistant, Human Resources Department (Town of Thornhill)

In Depth Appearance:

Val is a slight but well figured woman. With a lithe hourglass form, she stands tall at 5' 10'' with little in the way of muscle or excess fat. Although next to unnoticeable, her shoulders are a touch broad. The salary of a public servant leaves her with little in the way of expendable income to use on clothes-- Val considers herself thrift store chic, while the bright colored dresses she wears might not be tailor fitted to her unique physical form, they do express a personality that is both weathered and uniquely her. Facially you can expect to see Val done up just enough to appear that she isn't done up-- the aspiring politician keep understated eye liner, dermablend, and lip matte on hand at all times, her nails are manicured and glossed to look natural. She has a natural beauty that could shine through, if only she smiled more often.

Biography:

Then: Val was born a boy-- Juan Aiomé-- in New York city to Puerto Rican (and fiercely Catholic) parents Pablo and Audrey Aiomé, only moving to Thornhill in 2001, following the 9/11 attacks. Her parents felt that an environment free of sin, away from the temptations and dangers present in the city would be good for their growing family. Juan, accustomed to the city, initially despised the small town. In the city, he could hide from his parents, he was beginning to become involved in many queer and gay groups around the city. While he didn't have any particularly strong friends in New York, he wasn't looking forward to losing what little he did have in the move. But in 2002, the Aiomé family had moved to Thornhill, and slowly Juan became accustomed to the small community and soon fell in love.

By the time Nick came filming, Juan had already begun the transition-- at least to a few friends-- to Val. Having the harsh realities of being trans in an unaccepting family, and the difficulties of transition around friends and other loved ones was revolutionary, and endeared Val to the fans in a way that would impact Val's life significantly later on. She became a minor LGBT icon and was completely estranged from her family.

Between: After the show's run, Val's secret was out to her family, and she was disowned by her family in Thornhill. With the help of her friends and fans of the show, Val was able to return to New York, where she lived with more accepting members of her family and attended NYU for political science and psychology. It was during this time, too, that she began going through the process of fully transitioning. To pay for this (and her numerous college debts), Val returned to the town the enabled her to separate from her hateful family, accepting a job in local government, where many though hiring her would be a popular PR move that would endear the LGBT community and local youth to the 'hipness' of the town.

How well this worked is certainly questionable-- but what has worked is Val. She always had a passion for people, and she's worked her way up the rungs of the human resource department with speed and aplomb.

Now: Val is a woman. A beautiful woman, who, while not completely out of debt, or living particularly lavishly-- is happy. Although romance could be better, she's adopted a small child that she cares for when she isn't working. Her position in the town government sets her on a path for town council in as few as 3 years, and mayor in as little as 5-- the youngest (and first female, trans or otherwise) in the history of the town. She isn't lonely-- Luana is the love of her life, she's building her own family-- and her aspirations are ones she can occupy herself working toward-- still, she does long for more.

Maybe she'll figure out what that is with Nick filming again, just like before.

Centric Episode(s):

- Red tape: We follow Val for a day-- once an androgynous stoner-- she now holds a significant place in the town's government and helping to manage the Human Resources department, a department designed to manage other departments. Sexual harassment, law suits, and a fire department on strike? Just another regular day in Thornhill. Later, social services makes a surprise visit and Val has quick check-in with her doctor.

- All or Nothing: It's election season in Thornhill, and Val's thrown her hat in the ring to become the department head of town's Human Resources Department. Camera's follow her though the process of putting together a small town campaign, dealing with slander, intrigue in dealing with the various groups looking to support her, while finding time to be a mother. Having her life broadcast throughout the process gives her an invaluable edge of publicity over her opponents, it also means that any slip-up could lead to absolute failure, and the death of her dreams of the town council and eventual mayor-hood. As things cool down she receives shocking news regarding a woman who was dead to her, and an ultimatum.

Theme(s):

- OutKast - Humble Mumble
- St. Vincent - Digital Witness

Relationships:

TBD

Extra:

- Val was born on Día de San Juan Bautista-- a holiday in Puerto Rico commemorating Saint John the Baptist, the Patron saint of the island. Her birth name, Juan, reflects this.
- While Val refuses to submit to Catholic traditions, she does believe in and practice Santeria. She has a small shrine in her home, and practices many popular Santeria rituals.
- Ducks Fly Together

http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/92232-nowhere-somewhere-everywhere-ooc/char#post-3412377

Nowhere. Somewhere. Everywhere (OOC)

Valerie Aiomé

"¿Qué demonios fresco es esto?"

---

Nickname:

Val (prefers), Juan (former)

Birthdate:

June 24, 1988

Age:

28

Gender:

Female (Trans)

Sexuality:

Homosexual, Bi-curious

Relationship(s):

Single

---

Family

Family:

Luana Aiomé - Adopted daughter, age 3

---

Occupation:

Assistant Administrative Director, Human Resources Department (Town of Thornhill)

In Depth Appearance:

Val is a slight but well figured woman. With a lithe hourglass form, she stands tall at 5' 10'' with little in the way of muscle or excess fat. Although next to unnoticeable, her shoulders are a touch broad. The salary of a public servant leaves her with little in the way of expendable income to use on clothes-- Val considers herself thrift store chic, while the bright colored dresses she wears might not be tailor fitted to her unique physical form, they do express a personality that is both weathered and uniquely her. Facially you can expect to see Val done up just enough to appear that she isn't done up-- the aspiring politician keep understated eye liner, dermablend, and lip matte on hand at all times, her nails are manicured and glossed to look natural. She has a natural beauty that could shine through, if only she smiled more often.

Biography:

Then: Val was born a boy-- Juan Aiomé-- in New York city to Puerto Rican (and fiercely Catholic) parents Pablo and Audrey Aiomé, only moving to Thornhill in 2001, following the 9/11 attacks. Her parents felt that an environment free of sin, away from the temptations and dangers present in the city would be good for their growing family. Juan, accustomed to the city, initially despised the small town. In the city, he could hide from his parents, he was beginning to become involved in many queer and gay groups around the city. While he didn't have any particularly strong friends in New York, he wasn't looking forward to losing what little he did have in the move. But in 2002, the Aiomé family had moved to Thornhill, and slowly Juan became accustomed to the small community and soon fell in love.

By the time Nick came filming, Juan had already begun the transition-- at least to a few friends-- to Val. Having the harsh realities of being trans in an unaccepting family, and the difficulties of transition around friends and other loved ones was revolutionary, and endeared Val to the fans in a way that would impact Val's life significantly later on. She became a minor LGBT icon and was completely estranged from her family.

Between: After the show's run, Val's secret was out to her family, and she was disowned by her family in Thornhill. With the help of her friends and fans of the show, Val was able to return to New York, where she lived with more accepting members of her family and attended NYU for political science and psychology. It was during this time, too, that she began going through the process of fully transitioning. To pay for this (and her numerous college debts), Val returned to the town the enabled her to separate from her hateful family, accepting a job in local government, where many though hiring her would be a popular PR move that would endear the LGBT community and local youth to the 'hipness' of the town.

How well this worked is certainly questionable-- but what has worked is Val. She always had a passion for people, and she's worked her way up the rungs of the human resource department with speed and aplomb.

Now: Val is a woman. A beautiful woman, who, while not completely out of debt, or living particularly lavishly-- is happy. Although romance could be better, she's adopted a small child that she cares for when she isn't working. Her position in the town government sets her on a path for town council in as few as 3 years, and mayor in as little as 5-- the youngest (and first female, trans or otherwise) in the history of the town. She isn't lonely-- Luana is the love of her life, she's building her own family-- and her aspirations are ones she can occupy herself working toward-- still, she does long for more.

Maybe she'll figure out what that is with Nick filming again, just like before.

Centric Episode(s):

- Red tape: We follow Val for a day-- once an androgynous stoner-- she now holds a significant place in the town's government and helping to manage the Human Resources department, a department designed to manage other departments. Sexual harassment, law suits, and a fire department on strike? Just another regular day in Thornhill. Later, social services makes a surprise visit and Val has quick check-in with her doctor.

- All or Nothing: It's election season in Thornhill, and Val's thrown her hat in the ring to become the department head of town's Human Resources Department. Camera's follow her though the process of putting together a small town campaign, dealing with slander, intrigue in dealing with the various groups looking to support her, while finding time to be a mother. Having her life broadcast throughout the process gives her an invaluable edge of publicity over her opponents, it also means that any slip-up could lead to absolute failure, and the death of her dreams of the town council and eventual mayor-hood. As things cool down she receives shocking news regarding a woman who was dead to her, and an ultimatum.

Theme(s):

- Childish Gambino - Be Alone
- Open Mike Eagle - Dark Comedy Late Show
- St. Vincent - Digital Witness

Relationships:

Eli Gerard - The two have as professional a relationship as two people who once did shots off of underage girls together could have. Which is to say-- very professional. The two have maintained a personal relationship and a professional rapport, and often assist each other in their respective political or business endeavors in whatever way possible.

Alice Maderon - They were never particularly close before, during, or after Nowhere-- they've really only remained in very scarce contact because of the show, and that they both have children in a small town. Otherwise, they're relative strangers.

Liam North - There wasn't much a relationship when they were kids and there really isn't one now. They keep in contact, both having been on the show and all, and as a representative of local government, she'll try to throw him a juicy story to write about every now and then, but that's as far as the relationship goes.

James & Thomas Carpenter - Val went to the same local catholic church as James and Thomas when she was younger, as some of the only young people in mass at any given time, she naturally gravitated toward them to avoid seriously thinking about her faith-- with the show this connection even blossomed into something of a friendship. After the show's run, she drifted from the twins. She keeps in semi-regular contact with Thomas, but she alienated James with her transition.

Angel Jameson - TBD

Diante Nickelson - The two kept in contact after the show and grew into professional working adults while maintaining a cordial friendship. Val respects Diante's work ethic and thinks he's wasting his talents as a librarian, though she would never tell him this, this is why she might mention a few openings in her department to him whenever the two might meet. Val's daughter, Luana, adores Diante, and she often spends time with him and Sara when Val is working late.

Nico Gōngsūn - Nico and Val were once great friends-- two outcasts as a result of their oddball brains-- however, Nico leaving after the filming of the show, and leaving Val in the dark has left her feeling cold toward her former best friend.

Extra:

- Val was born on Día de San Juan Bautista-- a holiday in Puerto Rico commemorating Saint John the Baptist, the Patron saint of the island. Her birth name, Juan, reflects this.
- While Val refuses to submit to Catholic traditions, she does believe in and practice Santeria. She has a small shrine in her home, and practices many popular Santeria rituals.
- Ducks Fly Together

Nowhere. Somewhere. Everywhere (OOC)

Working on a character rn, anyone want a token minority friend?

Cara's Originally Titled OoC Hangout Thread ♥ (Still)

Where I'm from we call magic junkies mages.

The Dust: Begin Again

@lavulman You keep that metaton profile pic and you're already accepted, you cutie.

If you want, I can PM you about the basic premise of this-- I'm sure @bobert778's already talked to you about it a little. You can also join the Skype chat if you want.

Demon Daydreams and Schemes

(I hope it's okay-- age can be dropped if needed, she's at the same level as everyone else, she's just been lax with her course load. Umm, I know you said no arguments with pictures, so I'm hoping my picture is anime enough.)

Aliocha Villabaso-Arai

Name: Aliocha Villabaso-Arai
Appearance:

Ali--

Age: 23
Major: Communication and Rhetoric Studies
Minor: Journalism

Part Time Job: Cocktail waitress at Frostina's, 8pm-2am $7.25/hr (Irregular schedule)
Money:

Wallet; $23.53 in cash, $40.00 on bus pass, $14.97 on prepaid gift-card
Checking; $80.96
Savings; $50.04

Residence: Lives with grandmother, step-grandfather, and great-grandmother in Blossom Heights apartment complex, often spends nights in various co-ed dorms.
Family:

• Father; Ernesto Villabaso, 41, Bouncer
• Mother (estranged); Arisu Arai, 50, Secretary
• Step-father (estranged); Dai Ito, 54, Mayor's aide
• Half-sister; Sayuri Ito, 17, Secondary school student
• Grandmother; Nishi Sammiya (née; Arai), 75, Seamstress
• Step-grandfather; Eiji Sammiya, 69, Retired
• Great-grandmother; Yui Tsurimi, 106, Retired

Hobbies:

Going out; Ali enjoys going out on the town-- be it shopping at a thrift store, or going to get a bite at some restaurant. She receives a certain thrill from just going out with other, and being around other people going about their lives-- it's not often she can make full days of this though, due to her very minimal funds.
Swimming; You can swim in catfish pond for free! She's enjoyed swimming ever since her father first taught her how wen she was a child.
Biking; Seeing as her bike and the unreliable city transit are her two main modes of transportation, she's certainly lucky she enjoys riding around on the thing.
Jogging; For whenever the bike is in need of repairs, and the bus is late.
Socializing; Odd to think of it as a hobby, but Ali likes meeting new people, and flexing her gift of gab.
Day drinking; Rather self-explanatory.
Exploring the human psyche; i.e. drugs
Appreciation of the human form, kinesthetic and the skill of a beat conductor; She enjoys going to raves and other parties with live DJs.

Aspirations: That's a good question. If one were to ask Ali this question, she'd probably give you some witty answer with a half-a-grain of truth in it. She realizes that she'll probably end up working for the Springdale Post, working her way up to her own column, exposing some drug ring out of the shade (Shady Alley). Parties would become wine in the evening and weed becomes aspirin before bed, she'd take care of her grandparents until they died, and then inherit their studio apartment... That's the most probable future, but it isn't what drives her, not entirely-- maybe not even partially. She isn't particularly sure of what it is that drives her, all she knows is that in the present, in her heart of hearts, she wants to feel good. In a balancing act with those base desires, she sees her journalism as a way to improve the world as a whole.

Fears: Ali's biggest fear is very conceptual, but horribly existential in nature, Ali is afraid that she might never be aware of feeling happy, or that she may have already reached some emotional peak in her life. The idea that she might never be a truly happy individual scares her, and often drives her to distractions. Otherwise, she mostly avoids the normal things-- snakes, enclosed spaces, absurd heights... while not quite a 'fear,' she does take issue with government workers-- she doesn't have any problem with spiders though.

4 Positive Trails and 1 Negative Trait:

+ Jazz Cats Pt. 1/ Open-minded: A result of a rather 'colorful' life, Aliocha is very receptive to experiences and perspectives other may find questionable. While not exactly objective, she is less prone to make snap judgments about people or situations.
+ Dark Comedy Late Show/ Gonzo Journalist: As far as modern journalism is concerned-- Ali doesn't have an ounce of journalistic integrity in her bones. Funnily enough, this makes her the perfect Gonzo journalist. She doesn't seek the objective truth in her stories, but one that is balanced between what she can live with, and what she feels her audience can handle. She does this by throwing herself head first into stories, interviewing with the aplomb of a drug addled, drunken, sex-crazed, college underachieving PI.
+ 都会/ Relaxed: Not always an advantage, but Ali knows how to keep relaxed under the stressful conditions in the life of a college student. This typically means neglecting responsibilities until later... but at least she's relaxed for the now!
+ Teach Me/ Libertine: Ali is a proponent of free love, and is very open with her sexuality. Combining this with her accepting nature, Ali stands as an affront to conservative thinkers, or at least, the people who would have other act how they want them to-- and she wouldn't have it any other way.

- Out by 16, Dogs on the Scene/ Complete lack of discipline: It's a self-explanatory problem. It's less that she's a procrastinator, and more that she'd rather be doing something that she actually enjoys-- even if the thing she needs, but doesn't want to do is actually very important.

---

Sample

Yesterday

Mary heaved a broken sigh.

Errant security guards had warranted the execution by toilet water of joint-02. They were like smoke hounds, and Mary had been in enough trouble to know that weekends were no exception for 30+ year old men who liked exerting as much power as the could over young people absolutely helpless to defend themselves in a legal battle. So immediately after leaving Kanoa's kreepy n' kool kidz kroo, Mary had made her way to the nearest girl's room to dispose of the evidence. Jackson, while eager to pollute his lungs, wasn't looking to make roaches, and so he passed it back to her. It did serve as something of an excuse, though. She could just hide out here, calm down after that meeting, collect her thoughts, decompress a little.

She'd need to walk home, she always did. May as well get that trek underway after everyone else was long cleared out of the school. She could avoid any unnecessary... stares.

Oh, great intentions
I've got the best of interventions
But when the ads come
I think about it now

It still baffled her how easy it had been to open up about the... void... finally! To people who were complete strangers, no less!

No, those people were even worse than strangers. They were high school classmates-- there was the possibility of gossip, and potential judgements, and there was always the possibility of a snitch calling child services on her mother-- Yet Mary hadn't felt the stress associated with the taboo act of completely exposing oneself to a group of teens hungry for a game of telephone school wide.

It was entirely possible that she didn't enough about what anyone in there thought. Apathy did paint over each action she took. Mary leaned against a sink in the women's room, lazily regarding her reflection in the heavily tagged mirror.

She was shaking.

So it was more than a lack of concern... she was feeling an adrenaline inducing relief. Her mind turned to why she had felt so compelled in that moment to speak, and what it meant for the intense spiritual depression.

In my infliction
Entrepreneurial condition
Take us to glory
I think about it now

Brown eyes bounced off of each other into infinity as Mary tilted her head in the mirror. Her reflection looked sad, or perhaps, reserved? She couldn't quite say, it was obscured by lipstick hearts and expletives and the return of the other smoke. The world slowly began to darken again. A slightly silver filter to experience consciousness through. Honestly, she hadn't noticed it had even gone.

Her eyes widened.

Being close to other people who could perceive... whatever... had weakened it. The darkness felt weaker when she was with those losers... when Kanoa touched her... when she explained mary jane alternatives to Jackson. So it couldn't have just been contact with other people, it was those with the ability. That didn't make any...

Mary yawned. The restroom window exposed a lavender sky. Apparently her vision wasn't the only thing getting darker. She moved over to the door, it was probably safe to head home.

Cannot conversations cull united nations?
If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients
Cannot all creation call it celebration?
Or united nation, put it to your head

Mary poked her head out of the door, making sure her coast was clear. She couldn't stop thinking about the implications of her joining this club.

So people, like her but not her, weakened whatever it was eating away at her, simply through proximity? Why?

More importantly, it made her question the nature of that void that felt like controlled... everything. It hadn't wanted her to go to the meeting. Mary knew that from the note, the poorly doctored note, that it apparently hadn't even had the power to completely destroy.

Stepping out into the hallway, Mary felt a resolve building. She really needed to see this through, if it hurt that darkness inside of her, that inched her closer to death, even if only slightly. It was the closest thing to agency she'd ever possessed in her whole life.

That was kind of a drag though, 8 AM was really early to get up on a Saturday...

~~~

17 years ago

In an infant's body, forces screech in a perverted void.

Oh, great white city
I've got the adequate committee
Where have your walls gone?
I think about it now

"Ad anima colat!"

"Cura animam, Janicot?"

"Nolite mirari apparere, Diana. Ego sum fortior nobis."

"Tu es? Non video tamen positus cornua..."

Chicago, in fashion
The soft drinks, expansion
Oh, Columbia
From Paris, incentive
Like Cream of Wheat invented
The Ferris wheel

"Quin etiam singula; Tantum duo crura,"

"..."

"A femina! Quam fortis est semen tuum! Ahahahaha!!"

"SILENCIO!"

~~~

2 Years Ago

Oh, great intentions
Covenant with the imitation
Have you no conscience?
I think about it now

Mary couldn't hide the look of wonder that spread across her face as she watched the weak halo of purple smoke slowly drift into the deep blue sky. The calm summer afternoon was windless, comfortably warm, quiet, and completely atmospherically still. It was ideal weather for the smoke rings that would go about polluting a bodily temple. Ideal weather for smoke rings that would contribute to the death of Mother Nature's pristine forest air and plant life. Ideal weather for smoke rings that would go about disturbing the spirits that resided in the Oakenheim cemetery. Ideal weather for the clearing of existential smoke imposed onto Mary's being. Ideal weather for lavender smoke rings and everything that followed with lavender smoke rings...

'Oh! Quoniam fumus annulos bellum...'

She didn't care about all that, though. She just enjoyed the feeling of freedom being here gave her, even if it was only a small respite from the darkness. The warmth that spread with each puff made the isolation worth it-- not that isolation was ever a bad thing. But she could feel that whatever spiritual vibrations of...

The 15 year old sat up, and turned to read the gravestone;

Oh, God of Progress
Have you degraded or forgot us?
Where have your laws gone?
I think about it now

Mr. Frank Newton
Father, Brother, Donor, Hero
1959 - 1997
Gone and Forgotten

Mary sat cris-cross in the grass, illuminated by a slowly descending sun, taking in all that she would probably ever learn of Mr. Frank Newton in a single stone slab. She pursed her lips in thought, blunt in hand, as she considered his public legacy. Whatever spirit the man left behind was apparently malicious, as the lavender smoke was driving him away.

There were so many inconsistencies. He was a father, but not a husband? A brother, but not a son? A hero, apparently, but also Gone and Forgotten? That bit didn't even make any sense. If he was Gone and Forgotten-- HOW did he even have a gravestone?

With a harrumph, Mary turned in the grass and leaned her back against the cool stone. Taking a puff of the herbal remedy, the young girl considered alternatives. Perhaps 'Gone and Forgotten' was just a typo? But that seemed... too easy. Like, who would bury their loved one with an inscription like that unless they really meant it.

He died the same year she was born, which was interesting. And he was... some kind of donor? Mary took another puff of the purple haze as a sharp pain shot through her head. The thing really didn't want her thinking about this. For whatever reason. She shrugged; it was just dead end speculation either way, no point in wasting time thinking about it when she could listen to some Sufjan Stevens and look at the blossoming gardenias.

Mary heaved a broken sigh.

Ancient hieroglyphic or the South Pacific
Typically terrific, busy and prolific
Classical devotion, architect promotion
Lacking in emotion, think about it now

~~~

The Present-ish

Mary heaved a broken sigh and crossed her arms in an unseen pout.

Great. Orion seemed alright, if not a little too eager at times, but Daniel was here? Uggghhhhh...

She was here, in the middle of the woods with a group of people she was willing to at least try to get to know, both to resolve her own isolation issues and to possibly help in figuring out the darkness that resided inside her and then this fucking narc has to show up? She doubted he knew who she was-- but if the pictures the sheriff had to go by were any indication, he was basically babby cop 2.0.

Mary wasn't entirely anti-police. But that was only because she recognized that the American Law Enforcement Swine did possess a distinguished palate-- she, like the pigs, found herself impartial to the optimistic pleasure of coffee and doughnuts.

Chicago, the New Age
But what would Frank Lloyd Wright say?
Oh, Columbia
Amusement or treasure
These optimistic pleasures
Like the Ferris wheel

Mary took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee. She was mostly finished with the cup.

Fuck...

Not only could she not smoke because the sheriff's stupid narc pig son was here! But she might have to just awkwardly carry this stupid cup around with her for the rest of this outing! It wasn't like she could pollute! The Otaku Kitsune might get mad!

Right. She needed to focus, on the others, and the matter at hand. The alleviation of that feeling of lack that being near the others provided her with was beginning to get to her, she needed to remember that someone's life might be on the line with this. Her attention turned back to reality.

“Really, that's what comes to mind?” Was Maxwell's response to her commentary about the possibility of Kanoa bullshitting about all of this to murder some kids in the woods, “And what, you really think that if anyone was going to be doing the killing of nubile young teens it would be Kanoa? I can think of much better better candidates,”

"Nah man, I'm too obvious." She noted August's gaze as it went to Jackson, she continued, "I'm the character everybody suspects because of how murderess-like I seem, but I'm too soft deep down to actually do it. No..." Mary chugged the rest of her cup, "It couldn't be me, you or Raven..." She paused at Raven's name, "Well, maybe..." She shrugged, "Everyone else here... maaaaybe... but Kanoa is the one that organized this, after all, under the pretense that a magical fox is pretending to be people..."

Cannot conversations cull united nations?
If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients
Columbia

~~~

???

Mary could hardly move.

A few moments ago, she had been walking through the dark woods, the same dark woods she had been walking in her dreams for years now, her only companion was an intense, powerful wind. As hot as the raspy breath of man and localized only to swirl around her figure. That wasn't painful-- but then, amidst trees as sleek as smoke and a sky as dark as molasses there stood a familiar man. This man stood gaunt, he seemed a mile away, yet he came closer without moving with each blink. He was hairy, messy unorganized hairy-- although he had a neatly styled, eerily perfect crew cut. He was dressed in a suit that, at one point in time, may have been fine, but now, appeared as though it may fall into loose thread if he flexed the wrong muscle.

Perhaps that was the point.

What was most notable about the man, as always, were his dark, hollow eyes, the impossibly wide smile that grew as he approached, and the horns that grew from atop his head. They were like a deer's, and they almost seemed to stretch like a second pair of hands towards her as the man approached. His visage was entirely still as it effortlessly moved through the trees, despite the tumultuous wind that surrounded Mary. The edges of her vision became as dark as the coal trees of this corrupted Oakenheim wood, with each blink the man became closer. She could feel her lavender smoke in the wind.

Mary could hardly move.

Hardly.

She began to walk towards the horned man, even though terror began to fill her heart. Running never seemed to work here.

I cried myself to sleep last night
And the ghost of Carl
He approached my window
I was hypnotized
I was asked to improvise
On the attitude, the regret
Of a thousand centuries of death

He said, "Quoniam fumus annulos bellum," and ran off into the woods like a broken, gray pencil tip rolling across a piece of black paper.

Mary heaved a broken sigh in relief--

Mary turned, the cracking of sticks signaled someone's approach.

--too soon, apparently.

Two voices filled the swirling, smokey air around Mary, each singing a different tune, in different painful pitches about how much of an impure whore she was. She tried yelling out, but couldn't even force a whisper from her throat. She could dry cough silently, though! She fell to her knees in the purple swirl, pressing her hands to her ears in a futile attempt to rid herself of their disparate screams.

Then she could see them. Both of them. The horned man and the pregnant woman. His horns curved and lifted up in the air very, very high, like, taller than the trees high, like higher than she'd need to get to forget this dream, high. He wasn't growing bigger with them, but he hand perfect control of where they went. His hands went up, like some conductor, and Mary felt the wind around her stop as everything went silent. The smoke didn't go-- but that made sense, the lavender vapor was coming from inside her own body-- her own lungs. Vision grew darker still as she stood. Mary focused her attention on the heavily pregnant woman in the dim light in the already melancholia shaded grove. She gave a similar raise of her hands, and the trees seemed to almost move away, revealing a sky darkened entirely by horns.
They maintained that pose, paying no mind to Mary. Were they letting her go?

Even with the heart of terror and the superstitious wearer
I am riding all alone, I am writing all alone

No.

Mary's eyes shot downward, where this heat made itself known between her legs, it wasn't pleasurable, but hot, like the fire you'd place an iron in. Mary tried screaming out in pain, but all that came was smoke, and through the haze she realized what was happening. The fire spread from her loins to other regions of her body-- contrasted by an impossible freezing sensation where her heart should have been. She was burning from the inside out. The pair walked closer to Mary, the woman began singing and the man manipulated his horns to close in on her, so that she couldn't run even if she could summon the will. They were swirling around her and growing like the wind had.

And then the woman looked at her and smiled this awful, cheshire smile, and in her Mom's voice she sang, "Even in my best condition, counting all the superstition, I am hiding all alone, I am running all alone..."

She tried to yell out again, but couldn't. Mary fell back to the ground as the pain shot through her, she tried moving and that proved futile as well. The man looked down at the weakly squirming girl and he said, "Mary, you are impure! Mary, you are home..."

And then she woke up.

Even in my best condition, counting all the superstition
I am riding all alone, I am running all alone

~~~

400 Years Ago

'Hêlêl,'

'Nmitôgwesna spempik aiian,
sôgmowal negwadji eliwisian,
K'tabaldamwôgan paiômwiji,
kolaldamwôgan likitôgwadji tali kik taôlawi,
tali spemkik.'

And we laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines
We were asked at the attitudes, they reminded us of death

'Wôkwses,'

'Mômilina nikwôbi pamkisgak nedattaskiskwai abônmena,
ta anhaldamawina n'palalokawôgannawal taôlawi,
niuna ali anhaldamawôak,
ta akwi losalina wnemihodwôganek,
wiji kadniwadaki tôni majigek.
Nialach.'

Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Even in his heart, the Devil has to know the water level
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?

'Wôkwses Wôkwses,
Hêlêl Wôkwses,'

'Alnôbak ta Wôbanakiak aiian,
Wôkwses wiji ali Miguen n'palal,
Nsôzek tali kik Sanôba aiian,
Nsôzek nikwôbi Pehanem mawôak,
Adah adamah.'

'Wôkwses Wôkwses,
Wôkwses Hêlêl,'

~~~

The Present

And I cried myself to sleep last night
For the Earth, and materials, they may sound just right to me

After Jackson's outburst, Mary waited a bit before she sought admission into the natural cabiny outcrop. Both out of personal fear, the constant idea in her mind that Kanoa had no idea what she was doing, and that she was seeing something absolutely incredible. Her mouth hung agape at the sight of botanical perfection. Others had decided to hang outside for a bit as well, although, based on their more serious expressions, they had other reasons besides the appreciation of magic and nature in conjunction.

"Well that's almost disappointing." August declared silently to no one in particular.

"What is?" Mary murmured in idle response to August's own idle statement. She caught something akin to resignation in August's voice-- but couldn't put aside the absolute wonder in her own.

THIS THING IS AMAZING!

She wandered into the cabin/tree hybrid with wide eyes, it appeared to be the direct result of that unseen supernatural stuff Kanoa had been talking about. Besides the graveyard, Mary had never interacted so directly with stuff like this-- while her experiences had left her open to it all, such things as shape-shifting Japanese faxes and magical house trees were still new to her eyes. She couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly everything was formed... The minute detail, the botanical correctness of the flowers in the room...

Mary couldn't help but let some of that internalized wonder escape onto her face. A wonder that tippled when she saw a table that seemed to grow out the ground. Running over like an excited child, she gently placed the cardboardesque empty Starbucks cup discreetly. Finally relieving her hands of the burden.

Even with the rest belated, everything is antiquated
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?
Even in his heart, the Devil has to know the water level
Are you writing from the heart, are you writing from the heart?

The instruments on the table were of secondary concern to her. The table itself was amazing! How had it come about! How did those burning emerald vine curtains work? They seemed to grow out of the Redwood itself, meaning this plant was actually chimeric! Mary wondered if there were other plantae mixed into the genes of this magnificent modeled tree chimera!

She noted her expression was rapidly becoming sanguine and toned her internal enthusiasm down a bit. Tasks were at hand! There was an innocent life here, not one being slowly eaten away at, but a boy who may have already been killed. She did need to retain some focus...

“So what do we do now?” Maxwell asked, trying to keep the group on task.

"I say we--"

OhmyGOOOOODDD! The vines aren't just burning, they're converting their own photosynthetic energy back into light!

Like a giddy student, Mary ran over to the orange, glowing ends of the vines that seemed to serve as nothing more than a groovy-esque thing that didn't conform to the normal standards of doors. Kneeling down to the point that her eyes were inches away from the mystic burning light, Mary let out an audible 'sqeee' in excitement.

Then she remembered that she wasn't alone here.

"Uh..." Mary stood and turned, attempting to wipe all the excitement and giddiness off her face before continuing her own sentence, "Sorry... I was saying that, like, we should search for clues or something. It looks like Mr. Fox keeps a lot of stolen shit here, if this is even his magical amazing tree play house at all... So I guess we should, like, look around to see if it is, and if it is, maybe he keeps the kid here... or like, somewhere nearby? I don't know..." Shrugging, she pointed to Jackson, "Someone should probably stand guard in case whoever owns this place... you know, comes back? I nominate freaking Knives Chow over here."

Forgot sample whooops