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20 days ago
Current Happy All Saint's Day to those who celebrate
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2 mos ago
Bro just got cooked for generations 😭🙏🏽
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2 mos ago
Let me hold $20, I'll pay you back I swear
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2 mos ago
Jazz fusion while writing >>>
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3 mos ago
"This town ain't big enough for the both of us."
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Welcome to the guild! We are happy to have you, enjoy your time!
If I could throw this question out there: why do you want it to be based connonly? I could understand wanting to keep the core cannon aspects of the thousands of people trapped in a game where the only escape is finishing it, and no magic only sword skills, but to be frank the story and how the Aircraft arc ends is rather rushed. I believe it could a better and more fulfilling story if instead of stoping with the cannon ending of heathcliff's reveal on floor 75, we follow all of our characters up until floor 100, the actual end of the game.
An Eclipse. A spectacle, truly. To all those who possess the ability to behold such a wonder, may witness the convergence of two celestial bodies; one a brilliantly bright ball of gas and the latter a terrestrial plane of rock and metal. As one enshrouds the other, the eyes of those who watch witness the beauty within their sight as obscured light from the star forms an outer halo around its mask. A moment that while not rare, is fleeting. As time flows in its natural way, forgetting all who cling to the notion of the past, the celestial body, worn as a cover around the light source, passes it by.

Thus was the name sake of Team 18, “Eclipse,” a moniker treasured by the group who bear the name on their shoulders. A group dedicated to what they worked towards, passionate through their efforts, and through each other. Aligned in perfect sync as if they were the planets far floating in the heavens. Although in present times, akin to the celestial bodies moving out of place, the impermanence of their team floats in the air. A miasma spread across the atmosphere of their team whispering the forlorn question of “What’s next?” In this team of once twelve severed up to three lone souls, continuing on in the once active shell of a team they now occupy. Bygone from the days of their prime, and destitute from the absence of new members.

Location: Off The Beaten Path - Hiking Trails, Dundas Island
Dance Monkey #4.008#: The Twilight Hours of Team Eclipse

Interaction(s): Cleo Boyd @Spicykvnt, and Lucas Bray @Nemaisare

The world was loud, that was but only certain to Immanuel. It was a sanctuary which offered naught but utter disturbance. His days began with not a simple alarm clock tune blaring in his ears but with thunderous pandemonium billions of human beings living the single life provided to them. The sound of animals on the prowl, hunting in the treacherous South American rainforests, to the low growl from the belly of the Russian industrial complex. A part of him held thanks to the powers at be that gave him these abilities that he couldn't understand the hundreds of languages he heard in his ears each day, he heard enough information in English he wouldn’t dare to utter. The island of Dundas, while having come to be to Immanuel as a second home of sorts, offered little escape from the noise. The roaring cries of children and adults alike reached levels to even hinder the sound of the rest of the world in his ears. But thus was every morning, and hour of the day, for Immanuel.

Immanuel’s boots crunched twig underneath his firm step as he trailed to one of the common meeting spots for his team; or what was left of it. The light formerly blocked by the helping hand of the tree’s shade, shone down onto the dark-circles eyes of Immanuel. This little clearing was what they needed. Away from everything, away from everyone, alone with his team and nature. Immanuel lifted his hand up to shade his eyes from the blazing sun, looking around to see if any of his teammates had made it before him. For now, he was alone. In the far corners of his head, Immanuel could feel the festering pain, throbbing and searing away as it slowly was creeping down his forehead. He’s been at it for too long. His ears were filled with the sound not of the whole world, but nature. The sounds of ruffling leaves in the pacific shore wind, and chirp of birds he had no idea of engulfed his mind as filtered out everything but this; his close surroundings. Normally he would be able to hold the filter for much longer, but as he sat down on a stump his focus waned. The hand that once covered his eyes moved to his temples, rubbing them as he peered at the ground. “Just a little bit longer…” His voice softly trailed off to himself.

The world was loud, that was certain also to Cleo. In different ways of course. Usually in colours that screamed, in loud feelings and in waves of emotion. Her mornings often began with a clumsy stumble from her bed. A struggle against the oppressive fog that had seeped in. The beginning of her daily battle to discern which of the feelings she had were her own, and which she'd collected involuntarily. To shake them away with intention and find herself, wherever she may be amidst the scattered piles that had been drawn to her like moths to a flame.

The world felt desaturated today. Heavy. Bleak. The burden of an enormous weight she could barely describe. Stories hung in the air like motes of dust suspended in the amber morning light that filtered through her window. Usually, they weren't so numb, but today and the days preceding, each tiny speck of emotion held only emptiness. Like a long twirling string of black holes. Just nothing. Layers of nothing drawing from each other. She wafted it away - a long breath that conjured up a shimmering bubble in her palm to collect it all. A galaxy that she cradled carefully in her hands. As she concentrated, she brought life back to it. A spectrum of colour from white, to yellow, to gold until it burst. Her colours filled the room and turned it technicolour for a moment. Dorothy stepping into Oz.

A fleeting smile quirked upon Cleo's lips; guilt threatening to spill over and overshadow, a slight chide for her creation on a day like this.... But her smile, she decided, was a necessary act of rebellion.

She set out. No skates today. Just a pair of simple sandals on the grounds until she reached the grass. She slid them off, letting the blades of grass meet her bare skin. Grounding her back to the earth, brushing away at whatever negative ions still wanted to hold to her. As she approached Immanuel, she did not speak immediately, but gave a small wave, a wag of her fingers before sitting across from him and onto the grass beneath the tree, letting sunlight dapple her as she sat cross legged. Her knees sank slowly towards the ground, her spine relaxing into shape. "Good morning," she finally whispered, her voice a soft and careful murmur.

“Morning, Cleo.” Despite her whisper to Immanuel the sound of her voice was rather loud. “Only waiting for one more now.”

The world wasn’t quiet… Lucas woke up to the earliest birds in the building, stocking feet a faint creep down his back beneath the weight of the roof still holding everything in place. Rolled over and stared nowhere for a while, thoughts tangled amidst the loose sheets and warmth wrapped around him, the window playing streaks of moon light and cloud shadows across the ceiling, morning breezes sliding cool across his skin even with it closed. Bird feet scratched his head as he counted creaks and snores, tosses and turns, and how many toilets were flushed. An open fridge hummed, spilling cold air across the floor. Cups and plates hit counters and showers were starting to make it rain when the second round of waking came with a ripple of alarms and music muffle or not, some turned off faster than others. And, with a grimace, he took that as his cue to get up. Besides, the world was getting louder, but so was his stomach.

And if he left before the rest of his Ursus colleagues let their alarms join in on good intentions set to snooze, then he’d not have to hear it.

There was no one still sleeping in his own dorm for him to sneak around once he was dressed, no one to nod or wave at either though. So, he just grabbed a bagel and left the building behind, following the first pair of feet marching past the door and going wherever they led. It felt like company, the sort you didn’t have to talk to or worry about leaving behind, though… the feet didn’t talk or worry about leaving him behind either. Eventually, they went their separate ways, and he found another set of footsteps to follow until the pavement stopped and he didn’t, walking towards the trails and then veering through the trees. There’d been too many soft voices whispering over tabletops at dinner last night for him to think the forest was completely safe, but he hadn’t managed to hear which forest. And since the mess in the quadrangle was solidly on campus, did it really matter where he went?

Enjoying the natural sounds and settled quality of the air around him, Lucas ambled his way to their meeting spot, grinning when he saw two familiar faces already waiting there. Felt the usual quiet tension and long breaths of trying not to hear too much and the quieter held breath waiting to let everything out of feeling too much. Last one then. Well… No one else was coming. Gave him the pick of seating space, didn’t it? “Last one left… yesterday, I think. There was crying. It was loud.” He paused to glance towards Immanuel curiously. “D’you hear it? Well,” he hadn’t been the one doing any of the crying, “it’s quiet outside my door now.”

Quieter, at any rate, the empty rooms acting like a buffer between him and the rest of the building, though they’d still been lived in more than they’d ever sat empty. Be a long time before he stopped hearing Ezra’s favourite blues. “Even the new guy…” He’d been the last to leave but the first to start thinking about it, so Lucas couldn’t say he was surprised. “The air’s all thin and empty again.”

“Yeah. I heard it… It seems like that’s one of the few things I’ve been able to consistently pick out these past few days.” Immanuel’s eyes shifted up from the ground focusing his mind a bit stronger on the words of his friends. The throbbing at his temples only jumped with this focus, it hurt, but he could hold it. The somber cloud that hung upon the island in the present days had become naught but evident. The crushing weight placed upon their shoulders leaned and creaked under this cloud, it sucked the life out of what was left of their team. And as much as Immanuel wanted to ignite a shred of hope into the hearts of his comrades, Lucas was right. The air between them all sat thin with a palpable demoralization between the three of them as they sat in a triangle shape. The new guy came in the form as a saving grace for the team, it had been quite a while since they had received a new member, but as quickly as he arrived, he departed. Whispering wistful apologies with a half hearted backing as he left the team destitute once again. The same as the others had, a bond broken at its core and shattered into thousands of pieces. It was a feeling not all too new to them, but disappointment of watching a member leave stings all the same. “And the new guy… yeah, I wish he had stuck it out for the long run, but, what can you do, right?” Immanuel was not the original team leader, but it was a role he now had to fill. That day, it was the worst loss of their team. How can you trust in the stability of your team if not even its original lead decided to stick with it? That question pervaded Immanuel’s mind each day, that little voice in the back of his head louder than any sound of the world he could possibly hear. The one thing that sticks out in a sea of voices was his own. A constant reminder of his own insecurities that he just wished would be drowned out by the rest of the cacophony he heard.

“Well, I know the question you’ve been thinking, hell even myself. And to be completely honest as your lead, I don’t have an answer. I don’t know what is going to happen to the team, I don’t know if we are getting new members anytime soon. I’ve been left in the dark. Just like you. I… I wish I knew the answers for you guys, but I am just as lost.” Someone had to break the tension, nothing was ever meant to last forever.

“S’okay. Now we can lose without trying, okay?” Lucas grinned as he spoke, completely genuine and obviously pleased with this small silver lining. It likely came as no surprise to his teammates that he’d find it. He was a fan of teamwork, but less so of competition. And with only three people on their team, there wasn’t really any pressure to win left over. Although, he wasn’t sure how many other teams had a full headcount anymore…

“We're not in the dark,” Cleo spoke, holding her hands upright in front of her, waggling her fingers to let the little sun rays dance over her palms. “Not right now, anyway,” she continued. She paused, sensing something just out of reach, and while she couldn’t hear the voice that troubled Immanuel, she felt its presence, like distant echoes. “Whatever comes next is on its way, and it will happen.”

She missed her team too. She'd made friends and connections that had now all departed. “Remember the time Ezra played us all some music on the beach, and we had that wee party? I remember that night, because I think I ate more marshmallows than should have been possible…” she sighed, and let the memory conjure in her mind. Maybe they wouldn't appreciate it, but for Cleo, days of being buried to observe the walking nightmares, anxieties, and sadness, had left her starving for just a glimmer of something bright.

He hadn’t really started to miss anyone yet, with traces of them still slipping into his head. They weren’t here anymore, but they weren’t gone either. Though… They wouldn’t be making any more memories like that. Not with everyone, anyway. “We can find more marshmallows.” He grinned again. “We can make s’mores. But Ezra picked the best music and Chaney told the best jokes...” His mood sobered. “They can be safe somewhere else. That’s all right. But I don’t want new friends without you. What if they split us?”

“If they try tae split us, we riot!” Cleo answered, jabbing her finger into the air. A playful smirk danced across her lips. “Or… y’know, we’ll respectfully plead our case to stay together…” Her tone softened, but there was still a glint in her eyes that betrayed her true feelings– she couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from them either.

“Hmm, I say we riot as well.” Immanuel cracked the first smile he had in the past few days. He admired the fact that despite the downfall of their team, they could still crack jokes, and enjoy the company of each other during what appeared to be the final stretch. At heart, Immanuel missed it all. Ezra and his sometimes annoying speaker, Channy and his corny jokes; the feeling when they were all together was something he didn’t know if it could be replaced. “Honestly, I couldn’t stand the taste of marshmallows after that party, God I ate too much that night.” A small chuckle left Immanuel’s lips. The air felt a bit lighter around them, although demoralized, they still held that little spark in them from the bygone days.

“And seriously, over my dead body I’ll let them split us up. We’ve been a team since the start, you can break up that easily. And hey, we’ll still hold that little piece of team 18 within us, even if they shut us down. Hopefully that’s the absolute last thing that happens.” This team was like his second family, and he’d be damned if he lost them.

“So we'll raise a glass to them,” Cleo said with a smile to imbue a feeling of warmth within the safe triangle of Team 18. Immanuel, ever stalwart, was as determined as he always was, it struck her how relieved she was to see his smile. “And a glass to us…” she continued as her thoughts drifted to the impending dance. “And a glass for tomorrow too. Whatever it may bring.” she paused, feeling fleeting apprehension that brought her gaze down to the ground, her hand instinctively rose to her chest where she felt a hum of emotion. “No matter what happens… I'm grateful that we're friends.”

“As am I.” Immanuel's smile stood firm to his two compatriots among him. He couldn’t ask for a better last two. “Hell, I’ll raise my glass to that! If I had one, that is, still a bit too early to start day drinking. Probably something we could do at the dance actually.”

Riot, huh? Lucas returned Cleo’s smirk with a crooked smile of his own before he flopped backwards, holding up a fist in solidarity when Immanuel joined their little rebellion, such as it wasn’t. He hoped there wouldn’t be anything worth worrying about. Last year and all this fuss, maybe no one would notice, or care enough to make sure they were… team sized. He wouldn’t mind new teammates, but only if he could keep the old. Otherwise, it felt like a waste of team spirit and trying to keep things from sliding in one ear and out the other.

He waved his hand again—though he hadn’t yet lowered it—at the mention of raising a glass. Making that time-honoured enthusiastic gesture guaranteed to spill if ever there was a glass in hand. Raise a glass! And a glass and my glass to that… “Yeah.” He liked being friends, too. Liked having friends… Liked that he hadn’t had to go looking. And that not everyone had left. Though his pleasant ruminations on that front stalled after a second run through of what had just been said and he sat up again, frowning vaguely. “That today?”

Cleo sighed too. “It is indeed…”

“When i checked on the calendar it said so.”

“You going?” Though he did glance between both of them as he asked, sounding vaguely incredulous, Lucas’ skeptical gaze landed more firmly on Immanuel’s tired expression, feeling the strain in the tightness of his shoulders as much as he could see it in his face, and rolling his own shoulders to try settling the wrong shirt. It had taken a few minutes to build up in his awareness, but once it had, it wasn’t something he could ignore. “Like that? We can shut up if you need to breathe. But I don’t think you need dancing.”

“I am sure I’ll be fine by time the dance rolls around. I’m not much of a dancer in the first place, just worried about the music. Regardless, I’ll just bring my limiter.” The throbbing reminder of his own power’s drawback ran its merciless conquest in his mind, a searing pain ravaged with intention to stop creeping down to behind his eyes as they talked. His mind was empty of thoughts gear toward excitement towards the dance, a slithering distraction in the back of his mind in which he awaited the impending strike. He didn’t want to go, he had been one not to hold particularly high hopes in a lot, and this was certainly one of those events, but he had to go. To go despite the eardrum eviscerating music, despite the incessant chattering of people he could care less for, he was going for his team. For the last three that sat here among him, and for others who were no longer around to see this night. If his team was on their final days, he damn sure was going to make sure they go out having at the least a bit of fun.

“And I… I think a second to breathe would be good. Maybe it would be a good time catchup on that meditation we never got to.”

“All right.” No more words from him. He was probably being too loud anyway. With a finger at his lips by way of promise, Lucas glanced at Cleo just to see if she thought the same before letting himself fall backwards again. More comfortable that way.

Cleo didn't need a second invitation; and so a warm, effortless smile curved naturally upon her lips in Immanuel’s direction. She wasn’t thrilled about the dance either, far from it. She knew all too well how the mixed and varying emotions of the attendees would pull to her like magnets. A smorgasbord of angst and unclaimed romantic longing. None of it would be hers. She’d feel it all the same. But, to focus now would be to clean the slate and give herself a chance against it.

Her eyes closed slowly, each hand drifting to rest on a knee. She exhaled slowly, the breath carrying with it the gnawing thought that was at the back of her mind: Will this be the last morning I share with Lucas and Immanuel like this? The thought lingered, and she knew for certain that this moment should be preserved. This fragment of time. Sun pouring over them like warm silk, the grass that whispered at their side. Orange and gold that folded itself over, rippling in the energy of it before it settled as Cleo slipped into the quiet solitude of her own mind. Time paused, time saved. Everything else a distant hum.

Watching as first Cleo and then Manny closed their eyes and feeling his own breathing slow, falling into the rhythm repetition had worn into their clothes, Lucas stared up at the sky. It was even brighter now, a pale blue that was gentle on the eyes even if the sunlight wasn’t. Branches were filling in the space more than they had last year, their tips wavering and their leaves still green… They’d start falling soon, catching new colours off the sun before hitting the ground. Then the clouds would come, and the rain with them. But for now… He watched sparrows darting between those leaves, a gull gliding in the distance, and bees bumbling through the clover patch he was lying on. A hummingbird pausing at the clearing’s edge didn’t stay long when it found them taking up space, but by then Lucas was smiling and closing his eyes himself.

If he didn’t look, absence didn’t matter. Under the trees’ soft rustling and the dark–light kaleidoscope of so many days of dappled shade were more than three voices, some softer than others, some farther away, but everyone was there, carrying on old conversations and making plans. Cheering someone up after a bad exam. Sharing recipes and study notes. Laughing and swearing when the rain caught them out early… or a water gun. Most of them had been excited about the Senior’s dance, eager for their own turn. They’d made sure to volunteer every year just to see what the themes were and get ideas, they’d said, and he’d gone along to help. He’d never been sure what the fuss was for, having too many things about the idea he wasn’t looking forward to. He’d figured there wasn’t much point to going now the enthusiastic people weren’t here, but if Manny was going, Cleo, too, then…

Maybe there was something to look forward to. Gladys had been trying to teach him to dance over the summer, before she gave in to the outside pressure and worries about her family. So, if Cleo wanted, he could let her step on his feet as often as he stepped on hers. Immanuel probably wouldn’t want to dance with him… Maybe there’d be line dancing… Or beer nuts. At least a good dip to go with some veggies, or breadsticks… Cake. Yeah, it would all be worth it if there was cake.

As another round of discourse dissolved into a bout of laughter, Lucas smiled to himself and rolled onto his stomach to watch the bees continue their work. Their teammates couldn’t go anymore, so, like Cleo’d said, they’d raise their glasses for them.

The world was loud, but they could still find their own quiet.

C H A R A C T E R S H E E T T E M P L A T E:
C H A R A C T E R S H E E T T E M P L A T E:
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M A N N Y
M A N N Y
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"Man, why can't everything just shut up."
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C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Immanuel "Manny" Blaylock
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August 12th , 2004 | 24 | African-American
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Single | Male | Heterosexual
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St. Louis | Missouri | The United States
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House Alces | Team 18 - Eclipse

C H A R A C T E R S T A T S
C H A R A C T E R S T A T S
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B U I L D || Muscular
H A I R C O L O U R || Black
E Y E C O L O U R || Dark brown
H E I G H T || 6'3 (192 cm)
W E I G H T || 214 lbs (97 kg)
S C A R S || N/A
T A T T O O S || N/A
P I E R C I N G S || N/A
O T H E R || N/A
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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Immanuel was born into the system, as child of two parents who knew each other for but only a few weeks, he never knew those who held the title. A quaint little baby left alone within safe haven box on the side of a branch station of the St. Louis fire department, whose last sight of his mother was the backshot of her running away, although it's not like he had the cognitive ability to understand the situation. It was not soon after his abandonment that the little boy was found by the captain of the station, sitting solitary in the box with but light green blanket wrapped around him, and a note from his presumed mother dictating her grievance at the situation.

His life was no easier from this point on, like many kids in the system, he had no structure. Even as a little baby, he bounced around from foster home to foster home. This cycle went on for years, they would take Immanuel in, host for a few weeks, hell, even months, and when he finally thought this was his forever home, the foster parents would decide he wasn't the right child for them. After a while, it got dull. Immanuel no longer cared, accepting the fact that he would never find a forever home like his caseworker so joyfully tried to preach to him. And after one nasty few-month stint in an abusive foster home ruined his hearing, this thought was cemented in his brain.

The Blaylocks were like his saving grace, light in the long harrowing path that had led his life up until this point. A deaf family who had taken him in for the long haul, teaching Immanuel how to now navigate the world with his newfound disability. As the months past Immanuel grew warry of his imminent abandonment, like the rest of them had done. But that day never came. The last day he saw his caseworker was the day of his adoption, as a kid who kept to himself, he had never cried so hard until that day. That day was the start of many days of what he would consider normal. He lived a normal kid life, and for the first time ever he actually felt as if he had a family, as if there was a structure in his life.

Good things never stay good, that was a lesson Immanuel learned on the eve of his 15th birthday. It was a normal day, just like any other, Immanuel had just returned home from school. The smell of his adopted mother baking him a cake for the next day was still fresh in the air as he entered the home. Before he could even drop of his bag, it was like a switch flipped in his head. It was immediate, the silence he had come to take comfort in disappeared in a single second. Everything. He heard everything. From the sound of his own heart pounding in his ear to the faintest whisper of schoolchildren in the Siberian tundra, he heard it all. It was overwhelming, Immanuel was drowned in the sound of everything, in the sound of the world. He collapsed to the floor, and even with his hands over his ears sounds continued their war effort against the ears he had though he would never use again.

His power had manifested.

Immanuel didn't know what to do, and neither did his adoptive parents. Hot tears rolled down his face as his family tried to help him but to no avail. Several trips to doctors led nowhere but to the dreary faces of his adoptive parents and the shaking heads of doctors, who had no clue why a hearing-impaired child now claimed he could hear it all. Eventually, the curious medical miracle of one Immanuel Blaylock caught the attention of agents at H.E.L.P., assisting Immanuel by fitting him with an inhibitor. Now knowing what he is, and being outed as a hype to his family, the fear of being dropped by the people he now called his parents reared its head once again. Thankfully to the worried soul of a child who has lost too many homes, the fear was a baseless whisper that floated through the mind that hears all. His family did not let him go, not leaving him because of what he was, to the advisement of the H.E.L.P. agents, they helped enroll Immanuel in P.R.C.U., and after that, the rest is history.

M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y
M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y
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Immanuel still stands as rather closed-off, quite. Despite learning how to love, and feel loved by Blaylocks, the everlasting fear of losing everything on a whim sticks with him to this day. He started this world with a bad hand, and he has continued to keep his poker face high. Immanuel finds it hard to truly trust a lot of people he meets. His early upbringing in tandem with his powers enforces this, unintentional eavesdropping can reveal things one would never want to hear.

Disipline has been a core part of Immanuel's life ever since he started at P.R.C.U. To work with his power he needed to keep his mind sharp, to strive through the noise of the day with a steady focus.

To those who Immanuel is able to place his often conservatively held trust into, he's talkative, a kind soul that rarely gets its chance to shine, and often helpful to his friends. He values his held friendships with the utmost reverence, and does his best to return back everything he has received from them plus even more.
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A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
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H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || Auto-Absolute Auditory Perception
__PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || Esoteric
__SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || Somatic
__POWER SCALE || 2
__THREAT CLASSIFICATION || Σ

Auto-Absolute Auditory Perception is a hyperhuman ability in which the parts of the ear and brain responsible for hearing are enhanced to experience an amplification of all sound waves to a magnitude where it can be heard at an inteliable level. Through current observations, there appears to be no range limit for sound that can picked up through this ability, no matter how low the sound is.

As stated by the user of this ability, Immanuel, with a heavy stream of concentration his ability is able to pick up radio wavelengths, although currently at a volume lower than that of default sound waves in the air. However possible, this use of his power is the most mental straining on Immnanuel, with him only being able to hold the sound for a short period of time.

L I M I T A T I O N S || D E A F E N I N G C A C O P H O N Y / F O C U S O F T H E M I N D

As stated in the name, Auto-Absolute Auditory Perception is a continuous ability that is not able to be turned off by its user. This fact leaves Immanuel under near constant barge of unintelligible sounds and noises from every direction. This constant state of distraction when not equipped with an inhibitor comes at the cost of a harder time focusing on a give task or on the pursuit of controlling his power.

In order to make effective use of his power, Immanuel needs to hold a level of complete focus/concentration on what he is attempting to hear. This focus is used to help tune out the rest of the background chatter flooding his eardrums. It is on the record that the further away a sound is from Immanuel the stronger his focus must be to achieve a clear, uninterrupted stream of sound into his ears. His focus also determines how long he can hold a steady sound in his ears, this is why he is able listen in on conversations surrounding him for longer and more clearly than a conversation happening miles away from his current location. Immanuel's ability is also confined by the knowledge he has for the sound he is looking out for. To listen and focus in on a sound Immanuel must know what exactly he is looking out for to able to pick it from the ocean of sounds he is hearing. Distance is also a factor in this process, as the further away a sound is the harder it is to solo it out from the rest of the chatter.

W E A K N E S S E S || C L O S E P R O X I M I T Y N O I S E

Although Immanuel has the ability to tune out other noise through the means of focus, this stream can be interrupted. Noises within a close radius of Immanuel are amplified far beyond the normal extent of his power, if one were able to set off loud sound around him it would have the power to completely knock his focus and even disorient him for a while.
S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
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S K I L L S
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M E D I T A I O N || Meditation has been one of Immanuel's only form of escape from the overwhelmingness of the sounds of the world. A time where he sits with the sound, he doesn't resist it. He allows it to pervade his mind focusing on keeping a steady head instead of blocking it out.

P E O P L E R E A D I N G || Picking up on people's body ques comes with the trade of having hyper hearing. Immanuel can hear the beat of one heart, the slight raise in one's tone, the increase in their breathing. If it can be heard, Immanuel can pick it up.

S T R E N G T H T R A I N I N G || Much like meditation, training his body aids Immanuel in dealing with the noises in his head. With the main effect of improving his body and capabilities, it also enforces his disipline.

T A L E N T S
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W R I T I N G || Through out his life the one thing that has been a constant in his life was writing. He always wrote, it was like he was drawn to this archaic form of expression, and from what people who read his writing has said, he has a talent for it.
C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L
C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L
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A T T I R E
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W A T C H || Immanuel still wears the watch his adoptive father gifted him before he left for P.R.C.U., apparently the watch had been in the Blaylock family for a long bit, and he trusted it in the hands of his adoptive son. It is a classic wristwatch, apparent age, and another special but the love held in its history.

I T E M ( S )
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A H I S T O R I C N O T E || The same old note left with him when he was a baby in the safe haven box, tucked away in his wallet.

T O O L ( S )
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P O C K E T K N I F E || Nothing really special. A small little pocket knife he bought a while back.

A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S
A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S
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P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
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E N T E R I N G I N T O Y O U R F I N A L Y E A R, W H A T A D V I C E D O Y O U H A V E T O A N E W S T U D E N T?

"To quiet down that little voice in your head. This is were you belong. Get out of your comfort zone, do things you have never done before, have fun, make friends; the usual spiel, y'know? Go where the wind takes you and make the best of every second of it. Time is a fleeting thing."

W H A T W E R E Y O U R A S P I R A T I O N S W H E N Y O U S T A R T E D H E R E? W H A T C H A N G E D, W H A T S T A Y E D T H E S A M E?

"My aspirations? I can't really say I had any besides learning to quiet the noise without the inhibitor or limiter. Nowadays I guess my aspiration is to be a caseworker? Yeah, a caseworker. My old caseworker was such a steller woman, and honestly I just want to help kids who are in the same situation I was."

I F Y O U C O U L D M A K E O N E C H A N G E T O Y O U R T I M E A T P . R . C . U ., W H A T W O U L D I T B E?

"I wouldn't say I want to change a thing. Everything happens for a reason, right? We stand, we fall, we get back up. That's life. You learn from everything you experience, and I can't say that if I changed anything I would be the same man I am in front of you today..."

"Okay, maybe I would change missing out on meals to meditate, God, the food is divine."

R E L A T I O N S H I P S H E E T
R E L A T I O N S H I P S H E E T
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NEUTRAL || FRIENDS || BEST FRIENDS || § TENSE § || CRUSH || ENEMIES
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Boyd, Cleo
"Cleo's a kind soul. Truly, a joy to be around after all
these years."


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Blay, Lucas
"First person I taught ASL, pretty blunt but wouldn't have
him any other way. Lucas is a great guy, for sure."


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TIMESTAMP: Sometime after Good Enough Reasons
LOCATION(s):Revolution Record, Beverly Hills
SONG: Potentially The Interlude
STARING: Kelsey Devon & Isaiah Strickland




The sweet smell wafted out of the break room in waves, an aroma that assaulted the nose despite the flowery smell it produced. The open window only did so much for the stench of smoke that lingered in the air like a miasma, permeating every nook and cranny nestled in the quaint room. Kelsey’s index finger held the trigger of the lavender Febreze can with a vengeance, no part of that room was left untouched by her onslaught of fumigation, today was not going to be the day she got caught smoking by her grandparents, or worse, her mother. The Devon family weren’t exactly big fans of smoking weed, although they let her grandfather smoke a pack of whatever cigarette brand he bought a day and saw no problem, her small little indulgences would be such an incident she does not want to deal with. Thus are her days of gassing the break room with whatever air freshener she could find. The streaming sound of gasses being propelled out of the purple can in her hand was interrupted by the rumbling of her stomach. She was hungry before, she is even more hungry now, and the probably year-old snacks that lay laden in the small kitchenette weren’t going to help at all. That was no matter though! She had the insight to order food soon after her friend’s departure from the store, usually, she would’ve got something for Lucian, but he had somewhere to be, or so she was told. She felt happy for her friend’s opportunity, Kelsey knows he will do amazingly, that passion she had seen him place within that drumset was one she had never seen before.

Kelsey relocked the door to the breakroom to let the open window and Fabreze work their magic, she couldn’t risk any spillover into the front room, to which she saw as barren as it was before, nothing new. She peeked her head out from behind the counter to see if Lucian had flipped the sign as she had asked and there it was, indeed flipped. Kelsey laid back into the office chair that sat behind the desk, sifting her hand through the crate of records that sat beside the gramophone, finally, her hand landed on the one she wanted, “Ooo, Sundial!” Kelsey sat up, replacing the long-finished vinyl on the player with the one she had selected. The sound of the record melted like butter in her ears, closing her eyes as she fully laid back in the chair, awaiting the sweet noise of the shop door opening with the delivery guy, God, the food was about to be just heavenly to the taste buds of Kelsey. She couldn’t wait.

Isaiah had tried to sit and get ready to enjoy the game after his conversation with Spencer. He tried. However, he couldn’t reach down deep enough to find the will to pretend that he gave even a little ounce of care for what was about to happen on the Pirates field. Zay was gone before the first whistle even sounded. After leaving Beverly Hills High, the school's resident activist wondered what to do with his sudden free time? He could follow his best friend to the diner and play wingman for the Russian girl he was in love with? Or he could’ve gone straight home and spent the evening with his dads and sister watching some old eighties movie and eating popcorn? Maybe he could even reach out to the man from the letter? The man that claimed to be his father.

Zay wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. So far, his new year, new him motto hadn’t really come to fruition. Nobody had noticed him, nobody had acknowledged him. So far he was still just Isaiah, that black kid in class. He found himself in one of the few places that he could consider a place of peace; the record store. Amongst the sea of vinyls, retro sleeved art and glittering vintage disco balls, Zay found quiet. He was a creature of habit; seeking out new releases from up and coming hip hop artists before inevitably making his way to the classics section. PAC, Biggie, NWA, they were men of the streets, men of the game, men who once upon a time someone like Isaiah; a voice with something to say, a voice struggling to say it,

The bell above the shop door rang as he entered his Mecca. His dark eyes glanced at the solo employee sitting at the desk before he made his way across to his usual perch at the New Release Bin. The smell of the vinyl filled him with a feeling of comfort, like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold winter night. He pondered whether any of these new players would strike a chord in his heart and help him find the next words for his own opus at the Dolla Lounge.

The chime of that old bell above the door could not be stopped. A sound that pervaded the ears of Kelsey each time it rang without fail, capturing her attention in one fell swoop. Her eyes jumped open, repositioning herself in the car in order to see who walked through the door of the establishment. It was a regular, and one of the few she was rather disappointed to acknowledge that she didn’t completely know as well as the rest, even more so given the fact she might have shared a class with this one. “Oh, you’re not the Chinese food guy. But still! Welcome!”

Kelsey gave the boy a soft wave and smile as she watched him head over to the bins. A fair few students from Beverly Hills High found solitude within the walls of the store, they made up one of the most consistent customer bases for the store, funnily enough, it is also why some people in the school know her face, not a lot know her name though. That seemed to be the same problem she was having right now. “You’re the boy that always comes in here for Hip-Hop right? Reggae and Jazz too I think. I doubt you’ll find too much in there, I think my grandfather already emptied it for the next shipment. You like the older stuff right, 90s and back? If you look way down that row there is a shelf packed with stuff that might suit your fancy.” Kelsey pointed her hand out to the box she had mentioned, giving him an easier path than her instructions may have offered. “We also likely have something in the back if you can’t find what you are looking for. My grandparents also keep a lot of signed stuff back there they wouldn’t mind to sell, so if you are looking for something special like that ask away! If the name tag hasn’t given it away, my name is Kelsey, this is a bit embarrassing to ask since I’ve seen you come in here a lot, and we literally go to the same school, but what’s yours?”

Wait.

Hold up.

What?

She actually knew his genres? Now that was some good customer service. The amount of times Isaiah had stepped foot in the record store and not once spoken to the girl behind the counter beyond a pleasant nod and a thank you when he purchased something was beyond surprising. Now that the wall of customer service silence had been broken down, he finally got a good look at her, like really looked. She was right! They did go to the same school, they were in a lot of the same classes. It didn’t surprise him though that they hadn’t really crossed paths, no one really knew who he was and well, how could anyone not look at her?

She was stunning.

“My name? Uh MY name?” What on Earth was he doing? Why was he stumbling over his words? Zay considered himself a highly skilled orator, a lyricist, he was on the debate team, young politicians and he rapped on stage in front of hundreds and yet he couldn’t even remember his name when asked by a pretty girl? What the actual fu… “Isaiah. Isaiah Strickland but most of my friends…ugh, sometimes people call me Zay.” He quickly shuffled his attention back to the dusty old vinyls on which his fingertips were lightly tapping with a fervent nervousness. “Thank you for all the advice but honestly? The most I just got from you was that now I’m craving some Chinese food.” Isaiah turned back towards the girl and offered up his widest brightest smile. He did not for much consider himself an attractive boy, especially not in comparison to some of the other men in his class and school but he was always proud of his smile. The first thing his grandmother ever said about his birth father was that Zay and he shared a smile. “I was surprised to see the place open. I thought maybe like everyone you’d have shut up shop and gone to the game.”

“I can’t blame you, the food I ordered had been on my mind before you even came in here!” Kelsey chuckled a bit, she felt good to finally put a name to a face, especially one that was handsome to look at as well. She wasn’t the best with names, but she sure as hell tried her best to remember the names of the regulars. “And Isaiah, that’s a nice name, I’ll make sure to remember it! And honestly, I was never the biggest fan of sports. Win or lose, it’ll be some big unnecessary spectacle that wouldn’t change my school pride one bit. Why be there when I could be somewhere I actually enjoy? How about you? Not many as crazy as us to be at a record store.”

His smile, God, his smile. It glowed like the beams of sunlight that often penetrated the front glass windows of the shop, descending from his visage like light did from the sun with a warmth that seared into the mind of the beholder, one unmatched in the archives of her memories. They had been going to school together for nearly 4 years, and he’s been to the shop for a time around that number but this had been the first time Kelsey had really, truly noticed Isaiah Strickland. “Off topic but, I doubt you haven’t been told this over a million times Isaiah, or can I call you Zay? I like nicknames. But! You have a truly amazing smile, I am talking like top tier!” Kelsey felt her ears burn with the heat that surged onto both sides of her head, she moved her hands from the wooden desk they had rested on to her hair in an attempt to quietly cover hear ears which were glowing with the blush that avoided her face. She had only formally introduced herself to the guy only minutes ago, and her ears were over here shining as red as a ruby, God she was helpless.

Isaiah was taken aback by the fact that Kelsey was even giving him more than a courteous time of day. In this environment, it was her job to enquire about a customer's needs and wants and feelings on a particular stock but the look in her eyes, the cadence of her voice, could it be? Was she actually interested in something he had to say? “Honestly? Football was never my thing. I’m very much a basketball kind of guy.” It was a secret of a different kind. To most, if not everyone, Isaiah was but a face in the crowd but the boy could play ball. He was on the BHHS basketball team but he didn’t get much play time because it conflicted with the debate team and despite his love of hoops, he knew where his true passion lay.

Social justice. Reform. Change. They were all things, all callings with intention that acted like a chain around his heart. His entire life, Isaiah had suffered prejudice of some form. There was racism for the color of his skin. There were those that mocked him for having two homosexual fathers. There were even those that dragged him through the dirt and broken glass for being adopted. Zay wanted to be the change that he sought in the world. He opened himself up to activism and for the last four years, he would always find himself walking the halls of Beverly Hills High or standing in the quad with a clipboard; fighting the good fight and waving his petition in the faces of all to try and make the world a better place. The causes he fought for were numerous but he was dedicated to every one of them.

Hold up now. Wait a minute. Did she just….compliment him? Now this was the truest test to date of the new Isaiah. He had promised himself that senior year would be different, that this year he would take chances. Once upon a time, he had a brief relationship with Kimber Benson. They had been friends for a long time and it seemed like a natural step but in reality, it was the most forced thing either of them had ever done. They did it because it was expected of them, not because they wanted to. Luckily, Zay and Kim were on the same page and ended it before it got too out of their control. Relationships had a tendency to do that in Beverly Hills. Did he need to put on some act with Kelsey? Should he pretend to be more like Ethan? Or Theo? Did she think he was somebody else?

“You can call me Zay.” He smiled again before continuing. “And thank you! Apparently I get it from my dad? My birth one, not either of my white ones.” Isaiah chuckled softly to himself as he lifted his hands from the record and wrapped his fingers around his backpack straps. “I’ve never met him so I couldn’t tell you for sure. But my smile is nothing really in comparison to…well your everything.”

Kelsey felt as though she wanted to sink right into the chair she sat upon, sink right out of view. She questioned what powers that be gave her the confidence to spout such words out loud for him to hear. Kelsey was never the most brazen person, but in that moment the words flowed from her like water down a dainty stream. She wasn’t one unfamiliar with giving compliments to people, she felt no type of way giving one to any of her close friends, but to new people? That was a different story. She wasn’t the old social butterfly her mother and Grandparents used to know her as, she wasn’t that little girl anymore, that part left with her father. She was more secluded, if not on one of her A.W.O.L. drives to wherever the highway took her, one could know exactly where to find her, and that was where the two were just now.

Kelsey felt the subtle rise in her heart beat, like the rising of the drumline that hummed out of the gramophone besides her ear, her heart jumped slightly at the advent of Isaiah’s words and didn’t dare to retreat from the peak. Her nails softly scratch against the grain of the desk as she looked at Isaiah. There goes that smile again, who would’ve thought something so simple as a smile would’ve drawn her in, certainly not Kelsey for sure, but she’d likely never forget his name after today. “My…everything? I- Wow, I don’t even know how to respond to that one. N-Not like in a bad way, like in a way where I am genuinely at a loss for words. I’ve gotten pretty and cute before but to be compared to a smile as amazing as yours, that's a different one for sure. I like it! Thank you, Zay!”

Kelsey smiled back to him, although all the smiles she gave to the customers were genuine, there was something more to this one, one she couldn’t exactly pinpoint to herself. This was the first time she had ever smiled so wide at a compliment, it felt different than the ones she would receive from friends and family, it made her feel giddy, more than usual compliments, like it had seared itself into her brain along with the smile he had flashed towards her. It was a good feeling, no, a great one, and she liked it. “I know this may be off topic but you're adopted? Not asking in a rude way or anything, just genuinely curious.”

“Yeah!” Zay wasn’t even sure how to take offense from such a question, let alone such a question being uttered from this girl. Even though he had his issues, like most children who were chosen and tossed aside, he was very thankful that someone had taken him in, that someone had provided him with a family. “I was a baby. So I don’t really remember anything different than the life I already know. My Dad’s are great, they’re really just such sweet guys. Suuuuper white though, one’s Italian and the other’s Irish. And they run a furniture making business together.” At this point he wasn’t hundred percent sure what to do with his hands, so Isaiah swiftly stuck them in his pockets. Was that normal? “I’ve got a sister too! She’s annoying but yeah, she’s family. I’ve only recently really started looking at where I came from, like originally.”

Something about chatting with Kelsey, as nervous as he was, made him feel incredibly at ease. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to tell her everything and tell her now. If anything he was holding back because he wanted to have more than just the one conversation with her. “What about you? What’s your hero origin story?”

So cringe, Zay. So cringe.

“Hmm, I would like to think it's similar to Spider-Man’s, but really there's a lot different. Like him, I am also a New York baby, born and sort of raised, but not in Queens though! Manhattan was my home for a while, which is obviously the best Borough by the way, but anyway, I lived there with my parents until the 7th-ish grade, a lot is pretty hazy from back then. My father managed my grandparents record label while we lived there, both of my parents are just great people.” one of Kelsey’s hands slipped into her pocket to pull out her wallet, a pale, forest green faux leather thing she was never caught without. Inside the wallet, besides the assortment of bills lay two solitary photo strips. Kelsey pulled out the more worn looking one, unfolding it, and holding it up for Isaiah to catch a view of. It was a simple strip of cascading photos, one after another in an even row depicting Kelsey and her parents, and the contents of the photos were naught but utter randomness. The three of them took on a different pose in every picture, silly faces galore as the photos showed out the life she once had, the life she yearned to experience if but only one more time. “These are my folks, I bet you've seen my grandparents before, the tall older dude and my short older lady? That's them. Back on track now! My mother and I moved to California in that 7th grade year, after my father. He… he passed that year. I try not to think about it too much, it was a lot then, still a lot now. But, everything led me to where I am now, in this shop right here with you.”

Kelsey brought her arm down and turned the photo back towards herself. It was one she had seen a million times, a set of photos she looked at practically every day of her life. Those photos she kept in her wallet meant more to her than a lot of things in her life, memories of people she loved, people she can never see again. Kelsey folded the photo back up again, sliding it back into position besides the other photo in her wallet. She couldn't get herself too worked up, she didn't want to cry in front of Isaiah, especially not right now. “So yeah, unfortunately no siblings, though sometimes I do wish I had some, being an only child gets boring sometimes, though now I got this shop to keep me occupied. Y'know they had me working here when I was twelve?! That can't be allowed right?” Kelsey laughed a bit, trying to lighten the mood if only but a bit. “Honestly, it's cool that you are looking into your origins, I hope it's been going well for you, I can't imagine where I would even start if I was in your shoes so definitely props given.”

Isaiah was taken aback by how open and honest Kelsey was being. For all intents and purposes he was nothing but a stranger. Then again, sometimes a stranger can end up being exactly what you need at the time you need it. Strangers can be the most impactful people in your life and you may not even know it. Zay felt like a stranger in his own life, like he didn’t belong where he was, like he was simply a placeholder until the real person whose spot he took would arrive to claim what he had taken. He didn’t doubt that his adopted family and his few friends loved him, for each of them, strangers, took in someone that shouldn’t have been there and welcomed him in, just like Kelsey was doing at that moment.

“I’m sorry to hear about your Dad. That must be really hard.” Isaiah wanted to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. He could see in her pretty eyes just how much pain she was carrying, pain hidden by the scratches of old vinyl and drowned out by the best and rhythm of the music she wrapped herself in. “If it’s any help, I’ve got three dads apparently, so you can take your pick of one of those.” He awkwardly smiled again. He was not good at this. In the slightest. “What I mean, like, you know I’m not saying replace your dad or anything but…sorry. Just…sorry.” Isaiah Strickland, the great orator. “Working since you were twelve? Yeah definitely not legal. Though I was helping my dads do their taxes when I was like seven. Somehow neither of them are particularly math orientated. Must be something I get from my genetics.”

“You don't have to apologize, Zay. I get you trying to comfort me, thank you.” She knew he was only trying to help, and to be fair, she wasn't the best comforter herself. Kelsey never wanted to burden anyone with her problems, they didn't deserve to carry the weight she carried, it was her trial, and hers alone. Like Atlas, the weight she bore on her shoulders was the most she could bear, plus a little more. A weight that threatened to topple off her small frame at the slightest bump on the road, unleashing the floodgates that were fastened locks that cracked and squealed under the bulging hurt burrowed in her mind. “And hey! We have more in common than I thought initially, I get my impeccable skills to run a record store all by myself from my genetics too. I wonder how we haven't talked to each other earlier.”

Although their circumstances stood in a stark contrast, Kelsey felt that, in a way, they could relate. It was a weird sense, not backed up by a lot she knew about Isaiah but from that was what she got from their conversation. She felt like she could be more free, like she didn't have to put a persona around him and could just be open in a way. “Oh yeah! I know this is like a really big back track but back on music, if you look right above where I am sitting there is a photo of me and my grandparents with the members of Digable Planets. Though I might point it out because you give me the vibe you may know them, I wish I could remember the story behind it but I'm sure if he were here right now my grandpa would have some long winded tale that sounds way cooler than it probably was. Also do you have an Instagram or number I could get, I think I have a few playlists you would like!” That wasn't the only reason she wanted his number, but he didn't need to know that.

Did she? Did she just?

What?

“..y..ye..Yeah! O..of course you can have my number!” Now he just had to remember it. No one had ever asked Isaiah for his number before, let alone a girl! This was absolutely, unequivocally unheard of except for in his fantasies. “I’d love to hear your playlists!” He had chosen this year to be his year. This was meant to be the year that Zay finally found out who he was and stood out from the ideal that people expected him to be. So far it hadn’t gone to plan but in these brief moments with Kelsey, it felt like maybe it was finally happening? Pulling a slip of paper and a pen from his pocket, he scribbled his phone number and socials down. “My Insta and X are on there too. Zay4TC ... also I really love Digable Planets, that picture is so damn cool.” He handed the paper to the beautiful girl and directed his big smile towards her once again. “I should probably get out of here so that you can actually serve paying customers.”

Kelsey's eyes shifted from Isaiah's glowing smile for a moment to look at the clock that lay beside her, she hadn't noticed just how much time had passed while the two were chatting.“Hey, you are a paying customer too! But it is close to closing time so I should probably get ready for that before I have to hear an old man complain.” Kelsey shot a smile right back at the man before her, as she did a quick scan of the piece of paper before pocketing it. “Y’know I really enjoyed our conversation, Isaiah! Make sure to pop by again, I'd love to continue chatting, and I'll make sure to send them over as soon as I am done here!”

“I really enjoyed our conversation too Kelsey, I’ll definitely be back. You can bet on it.” With his smile glued to his face from ear to ear, Zay lifted his headphones back from around his neck, over his head and waved to the girl as he walked out the door. This was certainly something he did not expect when he walked into the record shop not a few minutes earlier. He wasn’t expecting the skin on the back of his neck to be burning or for his stomach to be filled with a swarm of butterflies but there he was!

As he walked up the street, his intended destination home, Isaiah reached into his pocket once again and was hit with a bolt of realization which struck him like a lightning bolt hitting a tree; he felt like he had been split in half. The page he gave to Kelsey, with his number and socials on, on the reverse of it were the lyrics to his next rap. He had not intended to share those with anyone yet, they weren’t finished and they didn’t have a beat. What could he do? Could he go back? But then he’d look desperate. He could leave it but then she would probably think that he was trying to be some sort of cool guy which of course he wasn’t.

“Oh God. No.”

So.anyone have any ideas for scenes they'd love to see?


I was think we could play a squad during Operation Starlite (one of the first major offensives by the US army)
Roughly how many players/characters are we shooting for?


Roughly the size of your typical army squad, so about 6ish people
This is interesting, I'll throw in a tag here. Are we sticking to the irl timeline and history?


We will try to the IRL timeline/history as much as possible but I am open to having deviations in the history if y'all would like to go out on a homebrewed mission
TIMESTAMP: Some time after Opening Act
LOCATION(s): The Revolution Record, Beverly Hills
SONG: Good Enough Reasons
STARING: Kelsey Devon, And
Lucian Bowers


“Thank you again! Take care!” A different variation of the same phrase flowed from Kelsey’s lips with each exiting customer. The service persona had been drilled into her for years up until this moment. “Kind words and a smile” as her grandfather called, and those words held true in the smile she wore at that moment. Although, the outwardly kind gesture she offered to each and every customer of the store wasn’t the hallow facade plastered upon most retail worker’s faces and voices. Her words were authentic. Kelsey clung to the notion of the store like her life depended on it. From every particle of dust in the back storage room, to the vinyls that lined every foot of the front, she adored it. She loved the store more than her grandparents did, and they were the ones who had it built. Anything she did in the store, whether that be sweeping the hardwood floors that lined the building, stocking the shelves with whatever new shipment of vinyls her grandparents ordered, or even the simple act of interacting with customers, Kelsey put all her energy into it. The store was her home away from home; She needed it. The store was a reminder, but also a distraction from her father; anything to take her mind off the brunt of the pain.

Kelsey’s hand traced the abstract art piece that lay on the cover of the vinyl that played record player beside her. “The Moon and The Melodies,” an album Kelsey had heard plenty of times in the past, one of her grandfather’s favorites, and what he had decided to play for before he left on an errand. An ethereal concoction that comforted the ears, but Kelsey much preferred listening to one of the playlists she had painstakingly put together the day prior. The day was slow, and the music that poured out of the surprisingly well-maintained gramophone hadn’t worked to speed it up. Kelsey had started a habit of counting the number of new faces who had visited the store, and today her count stayed at zero, with joining the past two weeks streak of all zeros. Nothing could ever beat the day a couple of weeks ago where she counted at least ten. Now that was a monumental day. It wasn’t all empty though, the regulars came by here and there, satisfying their musical cravings with a dose of Revolution Records almost endless supply. Kelsey was sure there was almost nothing they didn’t have, Grandpa Grant always managed to find the most obscure things in the back with a random story to go along with it too. That, unsurprisingly, held true for almost anything you could find in plain sight or hidden within the store, it was laced with its own easter eggs so to say to find in unexpecting locations. The customer earlier was also a regular, a sweet old man who was a friend of the older Devons, just seeking to chat, he had talked to Kelsey for around an hour before making his exit with his purchase, she’d have to let her grandparents know he came by.

Kelsey’s ears perked up with the blissful ring of the bell upon the shop’s door, breaking the stream of music in her ear. Her eyes looked up from the desk, and saw another one of the shop's regulars, Lucian. “Hey! If it isn’t Lucian Bower seeking comfort in this shop once again. Looking for anything specific, Lucy? I saw a few new LPs from some bands I know you listen to while stocking today. Or are you just browsing?” It was a sight for sore eyes to see Lucian again, although he did come into the shop at least once a week, she meant in general. Despite the lives they had led up until this point the two kids were old friends, both a chip of the Harlem neighborhood both settled in Los Angeles. Kelsey had been a close friend of Lucian since their younger years. Before he and Rocky were truly involved in a life he’d rather not talk about, they were joined at the hip. They only started to drift away when that became his priority, and before they could fix anything she had already moved away. Their reconnection was one unexpected by both, before he had even seen the girl walking the halls of their shared school, his uncle had brought him to the store in which they stood on a day she was working. After the moment of shocked faces, and a storm of questions thrown at the other, the two had been reconnected.

“You hear my sister call me that one time and you stick with it for so many years,” Lucian sighed at the advent of the nickname he had desired she’d forget. One he had been called by few and one he’d never forget. He hated it, the name hung heavy on his soul as it was burned into his ears each time it was said. That was something he have to tell her another time, though. Lucian was here for music, and he’d be damned if he let anything put a damper on the day he was having. “And, nah, I’m just lookin’ around, Kels. Don’t really got much in mind but I do got some news you might wanna hear.” Those words caught her attention more than his own arrival had, Kelsey sat up in her chair, raising her eyebrow as she looked focused more on her friend. “Oh shit? What has been up with you recently, Lucy? And for the record, it was TWICE, not once I heard Eliza call you that.” Lucian sighed at the girl's last remark, his hands searching through the crate of vinyls on the stand in front of him, no real direction in mind just scouring for anything that looked good enough. “Well, I might be joining a band soon. Don’t get too excited now, nothing is set in stone but, I mean, it’s looking good.” His eyes focused on the records as he softly pulled one up from the rest, inspecting the cover, and reading the songlist on the back before placing it back into the slot it came from. “Y’know Helen right? The one with the jet black hair, and drives the sick hearse? Yeah her. She’s the one that asked me to join. Me, her, and this cat named “Yani” as the first three. Fire, right?”

“Holy shit, Lucian! Finally putting those sticks to work. You really came far from the one music class in the 5th grade, huh? I remember when you barely even knew how to drum, and here you are about to do it for a band? God. When y’all have your first show, tell me, I’ll be the first one there!” Kelsey sat back in her chair, her smile was reinforced with Lucian’s proclamation. She was glad for Lucian, he needed something like this. What the store meant to Kelsey was similar to what drumming meant to Lucian. She knew he wanted to put it out there, to have his pain shown to more than just himself, so to see him finally have that outlet meant a lot to her.

“When we make it to the first show, I ain’t gonna let you miss it.” Lucian turned his head to look at the girl, returning a smile back to her before switching his search to another genre. “Off topic but what happened to to the Devons today?” Lucian realized, finally looking around the store for the short old man always spouting tidbits of lore about the store or his career. He was usually always around the front or somewhere hidden in the back, always popping up as soon as he heard his name. Grant Devon was quite an eccentric old man, you never really knew his next move. Laura Devon was always the one who brought the man back from whatever planet his mind inhabited, much like Kelsey she cared for all who entered the doors to her store, they were both a truly sweet couple Lucian had the blessing to interact with. Before Kelsey had a chance to get a word out to answer Lucian’s question, another set of words attacked her ears like a volley of arrows. “KELSEY, WHY ARE THE POTHOS DYING? ARE YOU OVER WATERIN’ THEM? I TOLD YOU ONLY ONCE A WEEK. HAVE YOU SEEN THE FUNGUS GROWTH IN THE POT??”

“HEY, I TOLD THEM ONLY ONCE A WEEK TOO. THIS ISN’T MY FAULT!”

“YOU’RE KILLIN’ MY UNCLE’S POOR GIFT.”

“BLAME MY GRANDPARENTS NOT ME! THEY ARE THE ONES WHO WATER IT.”

Lucian was distraught, well, not really, but the abuse of the poor vining plant he helped set up around the store for the Devins was a disappointing site. He was only playing around with his friend, letting out a faux sigh before speaking, “Christ, Kels, can’t even keep a pothos plant alive. I’ll have to help you repot it, the soil in these pots has too much fungi growth, and we’ll have to prune off some parts of the leaves too.” Lucian held one of the dead leaves in his hand, the yellow leaf laid in his hand under the Beverly Hills sun shining through from the window, the ends of the leave slightly curling up at the ends with signs of browning. Two years ago, Lucian wouldn’t have given a single care to gardening, his life here had given him so many opportunities to explore than he had in the past. Without the move? He would’ve most likely ended up like the leaf in his hand. After what happened to him? It was a shock he wasn’t like the leaf but still shining green. He counted his blessings every day.

“Yadda, yadda, yadda, talk to the hand buddy.” Kelsey thrust her palms from off the table they rested, hiding her smile behind her outstretched hands. It felt like the old times, back when they were just kids messing around with whatever, and doing random things together. Two-thirds of a former trio, if only he were here. Kelsey let out a laugh as she rested her hands back on the counter. “But in all seriousness, just call me whenever, dude. To answer your question before I was so rudely interrupted, they are out grocery shopping. Given this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and your talk of plants, you want to go spark up in the back?” Kelsey made the motion of striking an invisible lighter in her hand as she looked over at Lucian. “Don’t you gotta, y’know, watch the store?”

“I haven’t taken my break yet all day, plus, nobody will notice if the store is closed for a bit. I deserve some time for myself, this is hard work, Lucy.” Kelsey stated proudly, the smile still plastered all over her overzealous face.

“If you say so. I was just going to do the same shit alone at home later, so might as well.”

“Now that's more like it, Lucy! Flip the ‘out to lunch’ sign on the door, and lock if for me, my good friend.” Lucian followed his friend’s instructions, soon placing the records he intended to buy later on the counter before following Kelsey off to where they would smoke.




“Welcome back, my friend, to Revolution Record’s humble break room!” Humble was certainly the correct word to describe the room the pair stood within. The break room, if you could call it that with the size, was night and day compared to the shop floor. The desultory decorations found all across the front room were void as one stepped into the break room, alone sat a solitary table with a few chairs pushed under it, with a kitchenette set up to the wall beside them. The room sat with a stagnant air before the two rushed new life into its atmosphere. “Does anyone even come into this room? Christ.” With Kesley’s flick of the light, the two took a seat at the small table in the center of the room. “If they did they would notice I am the only one with a key, but as you can see barely even I use it.”

“Solid reasonin’. An’ I ain’t one to complain over free weed but bro, that shit you had last time was terrible.”

“LOW BLOW, WOW. We agreed never to speak on it again too. But rest assured, Lucy, this is of the highest quality!”

“Oh I hope it is.”

Kelsey’s hands were busy at work crafting the blunt for the two of them to pass as they chatted. The contents of the small bookbag that had sat on the table before their entrance was scattered around the surface. Kelsey placed the grinder in her hand back onto the table as she poured the grounded remains onto the woods she held in the other. The leaf was delicate, but she had rolled it so many times through trial and error it had become muscle memory. As her fingers rolled up the leaf she peered over at her friend across the table. This had become almost a routine for them, to come back here and reminisce over a blunt. Ever since he arrived in their junior year, it had always been the two of them in the back room just chatting about anything that plagued each other's minds. They were mutually each’s biggest supporter, closer than they were back when they were rowdy kids. Kelsey brought the blunt up to her lips, sealing it before placing it down on the tray before her. “You got a lighter, Lucy? I think mine might be dead.” Rummaging in her pockets in search of the light she had bought earlier. “I told you that them crackhead lighters ain't it.” Lucian slid his light across the table to his friend, he always kept working one on him, just in case. “Thank you!” With the blunt in-between her fingers she brought Lucian’s lighter up to light it, taking the first drag on her creation. The smoke permeated every part of her lungs before cascading out as she opened her mouth, handing the blunt and the light back over to her friend. Lucian took a hit on the blunt before speaking, the smoke filled his lungs like the thoughts did his mind. “You ever miss Harlem?”

“I mean, I guess? Not really the city, more my father and my friends, and I already got a part of that place smoking with me. You alright, Lucian?”

“Been on edge my whole life, Kels, you get used to it. An’ ion know, guess I just miss my peoples.”

“Shit, I know being here without father hurt me a lot, I can’t imagine how you must feel without Eliza.”

“Was supposed to be us two ‘gainst the world, and now we two different sides of the country.” Lucian took another drag before passing it back to Kelsey. This was the only way Lucian found he could talk about that life without breaking down into the mess that he kept locked within.

“I am so sorry, Lucian.”

“You ain’t gotta apologize, aint shit you did wrong. I blame my life-givers for that. An’ with Rocky, Christ, I don’t even wanna think ‘bout that. Makes my heart hurt in all the wrong ways.” Lucian rubbed his shoulder, lightly feeling over the scar that sat there through his shirt.

“I feel you, we all miss him.” Kelsey held the blunt in her hand as she looked over at her friend. When Lucian had told her the news her heart was broken too, like it was smashed into a million pieces as the last vestige of hopeful belief that she would be able to see her old friend again faded away. He and Lucian were the brothers she never had, the pain ran deep and the fact that they never had the chance to reconnect stuck her deeper. She tried to understand Lucian’s pain, she hurt for Rocky as well, but to actually be there the moment it happened was a type of pain she could never imagine. Lucian was able to hold his pain just as well as her mother could. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen Lucian cry over their friend but when he first told her the tears flowed like hot lava down her face. She didn’t know how he did it, to keep his pain bundled up so deeply in as big of a heart as he had still shocked her, in her own heart she wished she could handle her own pain as well as he appeared to be. Little did she know that behind Lucian facade of managed grief, he was still that kid frozen in the moment, his mind never truly having left that one street corner that altered his life drastically. She had yet to see little glimpses of his grief that punctured the surface when his ears were assaulted with sudden loud noises. The pain that showed through his eyes when he would fall to the floor winded, gasping for any air he could take in, and on the verge of tears. She never saw the tremors that washed through his body when he was awoken in the middle of the night by a nightmare he never dared to retell. After she took another hit, a light stream of hot tears rolled down from her eyes. “Ah fuck, I didn’t mean to make you cry, Kels.”

“You’re alright, Lucy. You know I’m a crier, and this isn’t making it any better.” Kelsey let out a light laugh through the smoke, and tears, passing back over to Lucian

“If this means anythin’ now, this is way better stuff than last time.”

“See! I told you.

“We’re still smokin’ my shit next time, this is still subpar.”

“Alright. You’re done.”

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