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Recollections: The Fourth Seal [Mystery/Urban-Fantasy/Horror RP]

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Recollections: The Fourth Seal [Mystery/Urban-Fantasy/Horror RP]

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@Ghost Note

Recollections: The Fourth Seal [Mystery/Urban-Fantasy/Horror RP]

Archie

Archie Malcom Anderson

╚══════════════╝

"Hmmm."

[ 36 | 5'10 | Caucasian-American | he/him | 184 lbs ]

[Lost]

APPEARANCE

"Forgot to shave for a while."

If you looked at Archie, your first impressions would lead you to believe that he was a man down on his luck, and you wouldn’t be too far off from the truth. Underneath the worry lines, permanently frown, and his baggy clothing are broad shoulders and kind eyes. His complexion is good, as he is long past the age where he needs to worry about acne, with no natural blemishes on his person. He does however have many scars and scrapes from his rough and tumble life. Several of which are scrapes and burn scars all over his hands and a couple on his arms and legs, which appear to be nothing more than rough housing mementos.

The structure of his face is mostly angular, with high cheek bones, but his jaw squares off at his chin. Along his chin, jaw, and cheeks he wears thin but somewhat unkempt facial hair. He has thick eyebrows and lashes which frame intense blue eyes. His light brown hair though, is quickly combed with his fingers, most of the time achieving that ‘I got ready in 15 minutes’ look. He naturally walks and talks with a charming demeanor, that his exuberance infects all of his conversations and has a sort of charismatic disposition that brings out the better parts of people. It is such a shame that this side of him hasn’t shown in a while. He has a deep, strong, projecting yet somewhat gravely voice that carries a slight southern accent to it.

There isn't any one particular outfit that he leans towards. The style may change from relaxed, sometimes classy, sporty, whatever the situation demands. He generally has a rugged look to his person. Brown or black leather jackets are his preferred outerwear, but hoodies are not uncommon. He usually avoids shorts. What kind of jeans or pants doesn’t really matter to him, but he tends to shoot for boot cut jeans that tend to tighten around his waist, providing comfort and a secure fit. His shoes are boots, almost always boots. Though it may change according to the situation - sports often call for sneakers, and a fancy outing requires more refined dress shoes. These he has. As of late Archie has found himself going for clothing that is relaxed and easy to move in due to his newfound affliction.

PSYCHOLOGY

"People say I need to get out more, but I'll drink with anyone who'll buy me a beer."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Archie strongly desires to come to peace with the loss of his family, and to one day find it in himself to rebuild.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ One day at a time, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Just keep one foot in front of the other.

SECRETS ⫻ Most of his spicy information was (thoughtlessly) laid out to dry for the town when he became a widower. Nothing of note here.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Straight.

FEARS ⫻ Very little at this point. He's a man with just about nothing to lose.

REPUTATION ⫻ Archie is well regarded, well liked, and celebrated individual in the community for his regular contributions to Araminta as a local businessman. He is one of the few university educated people in town and the only all purposes mechanic who does it all for less than anyone else. He was known as a fairly religious man even if his faith has quickly faded. Due to how recently he lost his family he has been given a pass for his lack of church attendance, although this allowance is fading with time.

QUIRKS ⫻ Archie regularly visits his wife's grave, and finds himself talking to his daughter a lot. They're not full blown conversations, but he likes to think that they would be things that he would have told her or taught her if she were still with him.

FLAWS ⫻ Oh boy that's a long list. Just read the backstory's second part for a personality summary.

BACKSTORY

"If there's a god above, he wouldn't have taken my wife and daughter away from me."

Archie was born in March of 1984, and has spent most of his life facing issues with anger management. Most of his childhood life isn't too far off from normal, but as he became a teenager he began lashing out with more ferocity and anger. Nothing too atypical for a young man with known anger issues. He attended classes for this, and eventually learned how to manage himself more appropriate.

For the better part of his life, Archie has been a normal person. He went to university, got a degree, made friends, and found someone who he was compatible with. He had a dog, and then a kid. All the the while he didn't have a single major incident. The child came unexpectedly, and when he found himself becoming a father before he was ready or even wanted, things began to change. His marriage was strained, and he began to feel trapped. But he was a good father to his daughter. He refused to let his discontentment show around him. He loved his wife and daughter, he really did- and it wasn't their fault that they had been dealt the cards they had. One day while returning home from visiting the grandparents out of state, Archie's car was struck by a drunk driver. His wife died instantly, and his little girl didn't have a chance.

These days he spends most of his time at home- a waterfront home with a dock for his boat and a massive industrial garage that he uses for his mechanic business that has one too many empty rooms. After his initial encounter with what he believes to be The Black Shuck- in which he saw the cryptid at the riverbank while up the Williams river drinking, he no longer doubts the claims of all the strange happenings in the town. He however has not altered his behavior in any way. If The Horde gets him, then it gets him, see if he gives a shit.

These days, Archie has found himself drinking his sorrows away on his boat while fishing until he's gone, and then waking up in the morning in strange places with torn clothes and no recollection of what happened. Perhaps it is his punishment for his discontent with gods gifts to his life, perhaps there was no god at all. All he knows is that he is deep in a pit of self inflicted despair with no idea how to dig himself out.

Outwardly, Archie can be charming, forward, and proud. A peculiar mixture of relaxed and energetic are what makes up his disposition depending on how much alcohol is in his system. He's talkative in the right crowd and has very many stories to share regarding his hijinks, adventures, and mishapenings he has experienced throughout the extent of his life. He has a large presence and a forceful voice, coupled with charm, people tend to see him as a leader. Not because he's earned it, but because he rallies those to him well. He will pay you back if you do him a favor or if you get on his good side. This being said, he isn't very frequently refused and so the ugly side he's been at odds with for most of his lift isn't seen as often one might expect - and while he has had a history with aggression, he isn't actually too prone to being aggressive in his interactions with others. At least not anymore.

While Archie could certainly use to such measures if he felt them necessary, years of anger management classes have taught him to consider himself above such nonsense most of the time, but on that same note, he can also be very petty. He knows he's better than that, he knows that holding grudges doesn't help anything, and that doing so is not the answer. That's just over-compensating and, quite frankly, says more about him than the other person.

Archie likes to tell himself that he does what’s right because it’s right and he doesn't need another reason- but he is not some paragon of morality. He is human, and his allegiances often align with those that provide him the greatest benefit, or is of greater influence than a person of little say. He can be selfish, but he tries to be better even if he isn't always successful.

Innately, Archie is a very angry and lost individual. He cares about what the world wants too much, I mean he's just out here trying to make his own way and survive. To climb and scratch his way to the top. Perhaps that's better achieved if he hadn't had such a penchant for self destruction. He cares only for himself (with few exceptions) and isn't above taking out his anger on those around him. He has a lot of pent up rage and frustration. Of course his relationship for his immediate family is less than ideal, and this has deeply affected him and his ability to trust forgiveness. All he wants is to get out of this hole that he's himself. He wants to come to terms with his loss, and earn back the right calling himself a good man. All of these feelings are deep inside him and hidden from the world, and it is those more bitter emotions that are channeled into this fervent work driven ferocity. But on top of all his buried thoughts and feelings are layers of a persona he has chosen to portray himself as because it is what he thinks he should be. A persona that feels everything that he thinks he is supposed to feel, and this persona runs so deep he has difficulty finding the difference between what he wants, and what he thinks he should want.

SKILLS & TALENTS

"I'm good with my hands."

Naturalist ⫻ Years of fishing and hunting have made Archie an adept outdoorsman. Years of camping, bird watching, hiking, fishing, and generally exploring has made him an excellent survivalist. He is very familiar with most species of animals and plants in the local area of the northeastern USA and knows all of the constellations and other celestial objects in the sky. He is an expert fisherman and, in edition to this, he is also experienced with hunting using rifles and shotguns- although he is far from an expert tracker or huntsman.

Musician ⫻ Archie is casually capable of reading, writing, and arranging music, and adept at performing with the keyboard/Piano and acoustic guitar. He is also a vocalist- being an deep bass, one of the few events he regularly attends is open-mic nights at local bars across town performing covers of songs everyone knows or somber content of his own creation.

Engineer ⫻ Archie is formally educated as a civil and mechanical engineer and applies these talents towards his locally owned and operated mechanic business. He repairs cars, planes, boats, bikes, golf carts, firearms... you name it, he can probably fix it.

Fisherman/Mariner ⫻ Archie owns a single thirty foot 1999 Island Hopper fishing boat that he uses to either fish himself or to take others fishing on. He has spent a lot of time on the river as of late, traveling as far as Lake Erie to get away from it all and is extremely adept at handling the boat. The fish he catches he oftentimes cleans and then sells at local farmers markets or donates to the church.

EXTRA-NORMAL ABILITIES

"Quote about supernatural here here."

For now, leave this part blank.

OTHER

"Want a beer?"

Recollections: The Fourth Seal [Mystery/Urban-Fantasy/Horror RP]

Archie

Archie Malcom Anderson

╚══════════════╝

"Hmmm."

[ 36 | 5'10 | Caucasian-American | he/him | 184 lbs ]

[Lost]

APPEARANCE

"Forgot to shave for a while."

If you looked at Archie, your first impressions would lead you to believe that he was a man down on his luck, and you wouldn’t be too far off from the truth. Underneath the worry lines, permanently frown, and his baggy clothing are broad shoulders and kind eyes. His complexion is good, as he is long past the age where he needs to worry about acne, with no natural blemishes on his person. He does however have many scars and scrapes from his rough and tumble life. Several of which are scrapes and burn scars all over his hands and a couple on his arms and legs, which appear to be nothing more than rough housing mementos.

The structure of his face is mostly angular, with high cheek bones, but his jaw squares off at his chin. Along his chin, jaw, and cheeks he wears thin but somewhat unkempt facial hair. He has thick eyebrows and lashes which frame intense blue eyes. His light brown hair though, is quickly combed with his fingers, most of the time achieving that ‘I got ready in 15 minutes’ look. He naturally walks and talks with a charming demeanor, that his exuberance infects all of his conversations and has a sort of charismatic disposition that brings out the better parts of people. It is such a shame that this side of him hasn’t shown in a while. He has a deep, strong, projecting yet somewhat gravely voice that carries a slight southern accent to it.

There isn't any one particular outfit that he leans towards. The style may change from relaxed, sometimes classy, sporty, whatever the situation demands. He generally has a rugged look to his person. Brown or black leather jackets are his preferred outerwear, but hoodies are not uncommon. He usually avoids shorts. What kind of jeans or pants doesn’t really matter to him, but he tends to shoot for boot cut jeans that tend to tighten around his waist, providing comfort and a secure fit. His shoes are boots, almost always boots. Though it may change according to the situation - sports often call for sneakers, and a fancy outing requires more refined dress shoes. These he has. As of late Archie has found himself going for clothing that is relaxed and easy to move in due to his newfound affliction.

PSYCHOLOGY

"People say I need to get out more, but I'll drink with anyone who'll buy me a beer."

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Archie strongly desires to come to peace with the loss of his family, and to one day find it in himself to rebuild.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ One day at a time, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Just keep one foot in front of the other.

SECRETS ⫻ Most of his spicy information was (thoughtlessly) laid out to dry for the town when he became a widower. Nothing of note here.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Straight.

FEARS ⫻ Very little at this point. He's a man with just about nothing to lose.

REPUTATION ⫻ Archie is well regarded, well liked, and celebrated individual in the community for his regular contributions to Araminta as a local businessman. He is one of the few university educated people in town and the only all purposes mechanic who does it all for less than anyone else. He was known as a fairly religious man even if his faith has quickly faded. Due to how recently he lost his family he has been given a pass for his lack of church attendance, although this allowance is fading with time.

QUIRKS ⫻ Archie regularly visits his wife's grave, and finds himself talking to his daughter a lot. They're not full blown conversations, but he likes to think that they would be things that he would have told her or taught her if she were still with him.

FLAWS ⫻ Oh boy that's a long list. Just read the backstory's second part for a personality summary.

BACKSTORY

"If there's a god above, he wouldn't have taken my wife and daughter away from me."

Archie was born in March of 1984, and has spent most of his life facing issues with anger management. Most of his childhood life isn't too far off from normal, but as he became a teenager he began lashing out with more ferocity and anger. Nothing too atypical for a young man with known anger issues. He attended classes for this, and eventually learned how to manage himself more appropriate.

For the better part of his life, Archie has been a normal person. He went to university, got a degree, made friends, and found someone who he was compatible with. He had a dog, and then a kid. All the the while he didn't have a single major incident. The child came unexpectedly, and when he found himself becoming a father before he was ready or even wanted, things began to change. His marriage was strained, and he began to feel trapped. But he was a good father to his daughter. He refused to let his discontentment show around him. He loved his wife and daughter, he really did- and it wasn't their fault that they had been dealt the cards they had. One day while returning home from visiting the grandparents out of state, Archie's car was struck by a drunk driver. His wife died instantly, and his little girl didn't have a chance.

These days he spends most of his time at home- a waterfront home with a dock for his boat and a massive industrial garage that he uses for his mechanic business that has one too many empty rooms. After his initial encounter with what he believes to be The Black Shuck- in which he saw the cryptid at the riverbank while up the Williams river drinking, he no longer doubts the claims of all the strange happenings in the town. He however has not altered his behavior in any way. If The Horde gets him, then it gets him, see if he gives a shit.

These days, Archie has found himself drinking his sorrows away on his boat while fishing until he's gone, and then waking up in the morning in strange places with torn clothes and no recollection of what happened. Perhaps it is his punishment for his discontent with gods gifts to his life, perhaps there was no god at all. All he knows is that he is deep in a pit of self inflicted despair with no idea how to dig himself out.

Outwardly, Archie can be charming, forward, and proud. A peculiar mixture of relaxed and energetic are what makes up his disposition depending on how much alcohol is in his system. He's talkative in the right crowd and has very many stories to share regarding his hijinks, adventures, and mishapenings he has experienced throughout the extent of his life. He has a large presence and a forceful voice, coupled with charm, people tend to see him as a leader. Not because he's earned it, but because he rallies those to him well. He will pay you back if you do him a favor or if you get on his good side. This being said, he isn't very frequently refused and so the ugly side he's been at odds with for most of his lift isn't seen as often one might expect - and while he has had a history with aggression, he isn't actually too prone to being aggressive in his interactions with others. At least not anymore.

While Archie could certainly use to such measures if he felt them necessary, years of anger management classes have taught him to consider himself above such nonsense most of the time, but on that same note, he can also be very petty. He knows he's better than that, he knows that holding grudges doesn't help anything, and that doing so is not the answer. That's just over-compensating and, quite frankly, says more about him than the other person.

Archie likes to tell himself that he does what’s right because it’s right and he doesn't need another reason- but he is not some paragon of morality. He is human, and his allegiances often align with those that provide him the greatest benefit, or is of greater influence than a person of little say. He can be selfish, but he tries to be better even if he isn't always successful.

Innately, Archie is a very angry and lost individual. He cares about what the world wants too much, I mean he's just out here trying to make his own way and survive. To climb and scratch his way to the top. Perhaps that's better achieved if he hadn't had such a penchant for self destruction. He cares only for himself (with few exceptions) and isn't above taking out his anger on those around him. He has a lot of pent up rage and frustration. Of course his relationship for his immediate family is less than ideal, and this has deeply affected him and his ability to trust forgiveness. All he wants is to get out of this hole that he's himself. He wants to come to terms with his loss, and earn back the right calling himself a good man. All of these feelings are deep inside him and hidden from the world, and it is those more bitter emotions that are channeled into this fervent work driven ferocity. But on top of all his buried thoughts and feelings are layers of a persona he has chosen to portray himself as because it is what he thinks he should be. A persona that feels everything that he thinks he is supposed to feel, and this persona runs so deep he has difficulty finding the difference between what he wants, and what he thinks he should want.

SKILLS & TALENTS

"I'm good with my hands."

Naturalist ⫻ Years of fishing and hunting have made Archie an adept outdoorswoman. Years of camping, bird watching, hiking, fishing, and generally exploring has made him an excellent survivalist. He is very familiar with most species of animals and plants in the local area of the northeastern USA and knows all of the constellations and other celestial objects in the sky. He is an expert fisherman and, in edition to this, he is also experienced with hunting using rifles and shotguns- although he is far from an expert tracker or huntsman.

Musician ⫻ Archie is casually capable of reading, writing, and arranging music, and adept at performing with the keyboard/Piano and acoustic guitar. He is also a vocalist- being an deep bass, one of the few events he regularly attends is open-mic nights at local bars across town performing covers of songs everyone knows or somber content of his own creation.

Engineer ⫻ Archie is formally educated as a civil and mechanical engineer and applies these talents towards his locally owned and operated mechanic business. He repairs cars, planes, boats, bikes, golf carts, firearms... you name it, he can probably fix it.

Fisherman/Mariner ⫻ Archie owns a single thirty foot 1999 Island Hopper fishing boat that he uses to either fish himself or to take others fishing on. He has spent a lot of time on the river as of late, traveling as far as Lake Erie to get away from it all and is extremely adept at handling the boat. The fish he catches he oftentimes cleans and then sells at local farmers markets or donates to the church.

EXTRA-NORMAL ABILITIES

"Quote about supernatural here here."

For now, leave this part blank.

OTHER

"Want a beer?"

Recollections: The Fourth Seal [Mystery/Urban-Fantasy/Horror RP]

You know you love me

Recollections: The Fourth Seal [Mystery/Urban-Fantasy/Horror RP]

Hey, hey @Ghost Note. Look at me.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Archie

---

"Well well well! Look what the oversized iguana dragged in! Oooh! Ooooooooh! What's this that's happening heeeeere?"

"Hey there, Amelia. It's good to see you again." Archie greeted, smiling so that his eyes crinkled at the sides behind the red rim of his solo cup, halfway down with taking a swig. He smiled down at Natalie, and decidedly answered Amelia's question by positioning himself a little closer to Natalie and resting a hand on her hip. He waggled his eyebrows at his friend, as if to say 'look what I've got'. Natalie didn't seem to immediately react, she was too busy accurately measuring the liquor to soda ratio of her drink as if she were some scientist mixing away at some chemical concoction.

"Will I like it?

He marveled at Natalie's grit as she made a drink of her own, one to match his by the look of it. The question struck him as odd, but given what she had told him it made some sense that she hadn't had much of anything in her life. He grinned at her and shook his head. "Probably not. It takes some practice." he said, and she either didn't hear him or didn't care. Or maybe she cared a bit too much and wanted to impress him. Either way, she took a sip of her own mixed drink and just about immediately turned into a sputtering mess. Archie laughed, a shoulder bobbing, full bellied laugh, and the hand that had been on her hip slid up the small of her back, over her spine and onto her shoulder- the one furthest from him. There was no concern or disdain in the laugh, just genuine amusement. He squeezed her shoulder lightly, like he had with her hand earlier, and smiled at her. "Hey, watch this."

Archie made a show of it, taking a half step away and bowing his head. His free hand, the one that had been on her shoulder, came up and pinched his nose, and in one motion he sank to one knee, threw his head back, and brought his solo cup up to his mouth and drank. It took him few seconds to down the whole thing, and when Archie finally dropped his cup he gagged- making a fairly disgusted face and shook his head quickly, as if he were a dog shaking the water off of its body. "Nasty." he commented, decidedly ignoring the warm feeling that was blossoming in his stomach. He would likely regret that later, but he wouldn't worry too much about it now. He shifted his jaw, trying to clear the taste from his mouth. His eyes shifted back to Natalie and he gave her a crooked smile and said "That was a mistake."

He moved next to her again, and pointed at her drink. "That might be a bit strong, 'least if it's anything like mine. Might wanna go a bit easier on the liquor or- ooooor," he said, he could feel the buzz returning some. Just as he was starting to burn it off, too. "Or you could try the jello shots. But dont take too many cause they'll mess you up. Can't really taste the alcohol in them. Unless they're like, really really strong."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw another, third man join the group and he jumped for joy at this. As much as he enjoyed being so surrounded by pretty women, having some dudes around to do his typical dumb country shit with would be nice. That and having someone to appreciate a good view with would be nice. He doubted Natalie would take kindly to him commenting on Eli's curves, that is unless she did appreciate that kind of stuff too. That would be kinda fun he guessed but at the same time maybe she wasn't secure enough in them yet and and and-

"Shit," Archie said, his heart-rate monitor was beeping again. "Blasted thing," he cursed, shaking his hand as he always did in a futile attempt to placate the noise, completely ignoring the fact that he had cursed for the first time in what was probably a long, long time. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

One Big Jace's Family

Is this the place where I post the racist, anti-semitic brother in law or should I go Hillan’s route and just write myself as an SCP self insert?

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

T H E P R O M I S E

---

Shhnnk

...

Pssh

...

Shhnnk

...

Pssh

She liked to think that she was a gardener, once. Nothing of the professional variety, of course. No how-to videos or youtube account with a small but avid follower base. At least, none that she was aware of. It had been so long now that she doubted there would be anything left even if something had existed at one point.

But she liked to think it was possible.

She had no sound logic or rationale for her hypothesis, simply an affinity for using a shovel and memories of flowers of varying colors and shapes. Fuzzy and alien, like a dream she remembered but couldn't quite place. With careful hands, she took the wilted flower. The days had taken a toll on the flower, whose petals are now a starved dark red. Curiously, she pinches one of the petals between her thumb and forefinger, velvet in the center but slightly dry at the edges now, and tugs it off before letting it drop into the grass. He loves me, he loves me not...

Of course, this assumption could be entirely misguided. She had spent so much time reading, learning, practicing everything and anything that she could. She wanted to know, needed to know. For a person with nigh infinite hours in a day, the desire to fill the time with something had become all encompassing. She couldn't remember much of anything from before she came to, while some parahumans obtained abilities that made them demigods, she had her mind torn asunder. Rent into tiny pieces and scattered across the floor as if someone had spilled marbles. She had screamed, and cried, and lashed out at anything and everything. She couldn't see, couldn't smell, couldn't hear, she couldn't even really feel and it had all felt so so wrong. She had experienced how dark and silent the world could be. Those pieces of her mind that she had found were small comforts, which turned to curses when she eventually came to.

Waking up in a strange room, filled with pictures of yourself and people you don't recognize was unnerving. She never got over the fact that those people were supposedly her family. She knew she was supposed to feel something, anything for their loss. But she didn't. She didn't know them. Some of those marbles had been lost- down the drain or under a couch so deep that she couldn't reach them. The history of the first seventeen years of her life was a patchwork quilt of guessing and estimation. The people that she was supposed to know better than anyone else in her life were reduced to strangers. Well, parts of strangers.

Within minutes, she carefully dismembered the rest of the flower, one petal at a time, creating a lopsided halo in the grass. Dark angels robed in heavenly white. Like velvet little corpses, she thought with slight morbid fascination.

Presently, a light breeze drifts through the woods, rustling the trees and the grass with soft, invisible fingers. The leaves of the trees lift slightly in the air before falling back to their original position. The un-bloomed dandelion flowers however, young and bright with life, all seem to release their delicate seeds into the wind's embrace; at once, the clearing is filled with tiny white parachutes, and she can almost imagine them calling out—"goodbye!", "goodbye!", "goodbye!"

Shhnnk

...

Pssh

The Promise's dirt depth was something like twelve feet, depending on the location- being deepest the further you were from the river. She casts a look to the many garbage bags, diced up and weighty as they were. There's always more blood than you think she reminds herself. The sounds of parties and music and talking carry on the wind and she can only imagine what they're talking about. If she had talked about similar subjects. She drives the shovel into the ground to her left, deep enough so it doesn't fall over, and tosses the first of the dozen or so bags into the hole she had made.

She was here on business after all, and this one had been more helpful than the last giving her a name and a direction. Detmer, and up. So she was feeling particularly thankful tonight, and while an unmarked burial in the middle of the woods was far from respectful it was certainly a step up from being left to rot in the river. That and, she didn't want anyone finding her body for a long, long time. The woman had looked something like her mother had, hazel eyes and blonde hair. She wondered if she got her brown hair from her father, and what he had looked like.

And, in the midst of the flower's farewells, Arianna tosses another bag into the hole and whispers something too— a farewell of her own.

Shhnnk

...

Pssh

...

Shhnnk

...

Pssh

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Archie and Natalie

_{♫ ♫ ♫}

---

”Hi... You look really nice.”

All it took was a soft hi and he's abruptly dizzy and his world tilts dangerously, the sound of talking and party goers and celebration in the distance blurring into a whirling ambiance and it's like tunnel vision, he can't seem to focus on anything but her.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he felt dangerously light on his feet. It was those same silver eyes and shy smile and raven hair and oh. Oh. Natalie looked beautiful. She always looked pretty but tonight she was wearing that black dress and tights that hugged her figure well enough and gave him a nice enough view of her arms and shoulders underneath the semi-transparent fabric that left plenty to the imagination yet the dress showed enough clev- His heart monitor was going off. It had been going off for a moment or two now. He groaned in embarrassment, the damn thing ruined the moment he was having with himself and seemed to be particularly active tonight. He gave Natalie a sheepish grin and whipped his wrist around as if that would silence the gadget. When it finally silenced itself, he looked back up to her.

"Oh hey, uh, Natalie. Hi, Natalie, hey. Hey, Nat," Archie stuttered as she she stood in the doorway. Even if it was totally and absolutely expected since he knocked on her door she still made him jump out of his skin when she answered. He suddenly found his shoes extremely fascinating, and he he started rubbing his neck. He found himself opening his mouth to say something, looking at her, and then finding it difficult to speak. He appraised her outfit and then his own and found himself kicking himself. Here she was, prim and proper and stunning and he was taking her to a bonfire. He should be taking her to dinner and to a dance, where she wouldn’t get her dress dirty and she wouldn’t have to worry about someone yacking on her shoes.

Well, it wasn’t like they couldn’t slip away to a proper dance if they wanted. Even if his jeans weren’t exactly the fanciest clothing to wear to Homecoming. Still, Natalie knew the plan, she was in the group chats and she was smart. She obviously wanted to at least make an appearance at the bonfire, and if he was being honest, he did too.

“You’re- wow.” Was all he managed to say. It wasn’t grandiose or eloquently spoken, but he’s all tanned skin and broad scarred hands. Suddenly becoming articulate and suave now just wasn’t him even if he wanted to badly to be classy for her. He was no James Bond. He wished that he had taken a few etiquette classes, though. Maybe he could have learned to dance so he wouldn’t step on her toes if they danced.

This one out-powered the lizard.

Well, that is true isn’t it? Would she even notice if he stepped on her toes? Well, she probably would given that he’d probably end up tripping over his own feet, but he didn’t think he’d hurt her. Hopefully. Archie offered her his hand. "You, uh, ready to go?"

Natalie had blushed despite her efforts not too when she realized that Archie was stunned by her appearance. It was gratifying to see her efforts pay off, of course, but she also never thought, after everything that had been done to her and the scars they'd left, that she would ever be in this position. When his heart monitor went off, she'd stifled a tiny chuckle, which definitely helped to break the ice. The atmosphere was awkward, but it was a nice awkward. Natalie didn't feel like there was tension. They weren't walking on a ridge of eggshells over a pool of 'ruined Homecoming'. Archie's awkwardness was endearing and only serving to make Natalie relax even more. She was also nervous, and excited, and terrified, but just knowing Archie was the same was a tremendous relief. She wasn't alone. She took his hand and smiled up at him genuinely cheerfully. It wasn't the widest smile but it was most definitely the happiest Archie would have seen the quiet, stoic Natalie.

The two were off shortly after that, walking side by side towards their destination. When Archie found out that the party was in the campgrounds and that they would be going into the woods, he had been hesitant at first. After what happened last time he was there he didn’t know if he was alright with the idea. It had all been traumatic, seeing a body. He knew that he had seen more during the breakout, but he didn’t remember much from the incident. He never did. All he could recall were feelings, flashes of colors, maybe a face or two. It was like recalling a dream that one couldn't quite place, and he didn’t take the reptile to be one concerned with corpses. The closer they got to the woods, the more apprehensive he became. Natalie seemed to pick up that he was nervous for one reason or another, or at least noticed that he was holding her hand abnormally tight. Natalie hadn't been privy to any of the texts sent between the others. She didn't know there was a gathering in the woods. However, after what had happened during the breakout she trusted Archie with her life, and she had assumed from his text that he had some kind of plan. She was admittedly relieved they weren't heading to a dance even though she was dressed for it. Really, she was dressed like this because she didn't know the plan and wanted to cover all bases. On homecoming, you can wear a dress anywhere and nobody will think it strange, but you couldn't go to a dance or a fancy restaurant in jeans and a sweater. Plus this was a date and Natalie wanted to impress Archie. She was still riding the giddy high of having succeeded. Natalie felt Archie's grip get tighter and wondered why, before realizing where exactly they were. She gave his hand a reassuring (controlled) squeeze back. Her smile shrank and she looked up at him. This was a place she couldn't imagine he'd be too thrilled on going back, which meant this wasn't his plan. Which meant they were going to be meeting other acquaintances of theirs here. Eli popped into Natalie's mind straight away.

"Don't worry, Archie," she spoke to him, in what was meant to be both a reassurance and a hint that she hoped he'd pick up. "I know that place has some...memories for the both of us but we won't stay there any longer than you want to."

"You ever feel like you're walking into bear trap?" Archie questioned suddenly, deflecting from his obvious discomfort and Natalie's soothing words as to not admit weakness. He laced his fingers with hers in appreciation instead. "I- I feel like a fish that's about to bite a hook."

"That's probably just nerves," replied Natalie, shrugging. "And even if it's not, you've got me. We made a promise, remember? I'll look out for you if you look out for me. I'm not going to let anything end this night on a bad note as long as you don't let me become the bad note."

There was a momentary reprieve from his discomfort in at her words. It was nice to have a body guard of sorts in that way, even if he was probably not the best fail safe himself. "Y'know it's funny you mention that," he said, halfheartedly kicking a stick that was stuck out of the dirt some out of their way. "Given that you've kicked my ass and all. You could probably pop my head like a grape."

Natalie shivers and grimaces at that mental image, before shaking it away. Archie gives her a smile for her benefit, very obviously not bothered in admitting it. "When you and Keaton were talking about that chip thingy, I was really hoping that you would get it. Y'know, cause I'm not exactly the best when it comes to keepin' my phone and all an-" he sighed. "I thought it would be a great excuse. Gotta stick together for protection and all rather than..." he trailed off, his eyes flashing to their linked hands and then back up to Natalie's eyes. He didn't finish his thought, feeling as though he had said enough of that sentence. Lynn had seemed so angry with him, and given the whole world ending, we're all gonna die attitude that seemed to be dressing most of the group, he didn't want the judgement that came with his desire to just be with someone for a little bit and not focus on the fire falling apart around him. "I don't know if I said this and all yet but... I'm glad you came with me tonight, too. Would, uh, would you mind telling me something?"

"Like what?" Natalie asked.

"Dunno." Archie replied, shrugging himself this time. The conversation was helping him ease his nerves, and he didn't want it to end. "Anything. Something the others don't know. About, ah, about you I mean." He said. Archie had always felt like there were a lot of ways to start a friendship, and some of those ways were pretty vague. Sometimes it was a smile that he didn’t expect and didn’t know he needed. Sometimes it’s been a slow build, sometime’s a chase. But there’s usually a moment where it comes into focus. A pat on the back, and invitation, a secret. Then there it is- he had a friend. He wanted that with Natalie- more than that with her, but he would settle for whatever he could get. There was a time in his life when he would've rather been sick every day than deal with this... this affliction that grew in his chest whenever he met her eyes or saw her smile. This affliction of affection. He had never felt quite this clear about how he felt about a girl before. Maybe it was because she knew about what he was and wasn't bothered. All things considered they were a lot alike in that way. After everything that had happened, it felt nice to have someone just like him without some nasty case of internal debate underlying their thoughts.

"Something the others don't know about me," Natalie repeated, trailing off. There was a pause, and her smile was completely gone now. "There are some big things I don't want to talk about tonight, because I don't want my mascara to run. I'll go back a bit earlier that that. Let's start with this; I'm a Parahuman but my strength wasn't the difference I was born with. It was my bones. They were what was different. My bones are really strong. Almost impossible to break under ordinary conditions. So I could otherwise pass for a normal kid as long as nobody else knew I was a Parahuman. So my childhood was pretty normal, all things considered. Well, I mean by the time I was thirteen my Parahuman status was pretty common knowledge in my school but at least I still kept hold of a small circle of friends. I remember we all hated dolls so used to just play with beanie babies and make them have wars and command armies of little pebbles." She chuckles at this memory as she recalled it. "What about you? You were a farmer, right? Any noteworthy stories from your childhood?"

Archie hummed at Natalie's question, giving her a sly smile but otherwise choosing not to comment on 'big things' that she had mentioned. She'd tell him when she was ready. If she was ready, that is. She really didn't owe him an explanation and there were things that he didn't particularly care for retreading himself. He squeezed her hand in comfort, and breathed in slowly to start his own tale. "You've been listening to Lynn too much," he said looking over and down to her. "My dad was a fisherman- used to make a living that way. The powers that be build a big ol' bridge to the mainland that disturbed the breeding ground, and the fish all moved. Things got harder after that." He looked away staring at his feet. "Mom left, and then dad died. All I had was my brother and Winky. Winky was my dad's boss and he illegally adopted us. I worked for him for a long time as a mechanic. Brother got arrested, and then a few years later I got my... condition. Then Winky left, too. Never saw a parahuman until I came here." Throughout his life Archie had been told that Parahumans were bad things. That they weren't people, no matter how much they looked like them. He had never actually seen or met one, though. Aside from on the news here and there when he got to watch TV. There was a dull light not too far from them now, and he could see the bonfire not too far away. They were getting close now. "Didn't have much in the way of toys or anything, myself. Was just happy to not be homeless."

Natalie was silent for a while, processing this story. While Natalie's bad memories were extremely dark and traumatic, at least she had sixteen years of a normal, happy, middle-class life beforehand to look back on fondly. Archie didn't even have that. After sharing that, it was only another reason why Natalie didn't want to tell her full story tonight. She looked up at him, and smiled, and gave his hand another slight squeeze. "That story was sad, but things will be better now. At least, after this whole mess gets sorted out. Also it gave me an idea. If you really didn't grow up with TV or games or anything, we should go to see a movie in the week. Would you like to do that?"

Archie shrugged at the 'sad' comment. Yeah, it wasn't exactly the best and living in a washed up boat most of his life hadn't been the best, but it hadn't been traumatic. At least, not until recently. But seeing a movie? That sounded nice. He had seem plenty of older movies on Winky's old TV, but he couldn't remember the last time he had been to an actual movie theater. "That sounds really nice." he said simply, because, well, it did. They were upon the campsite now. People were milling about- and he could pick out the faces of Eli, Keaton, Lynn, and Amelia! "Amelia!" he called, happy to see her after what felt like forever. Not since the breakout almost a month ago. She had texted him, so he knew that she'd be here, but actually seeing the teleporter just about made his night. Eli and Keaton seemed to be fairly occupied getting someone else off to the side over. Lynn? Lynn seemed happy, which was both an alarming and great sight. He waved to the group with his off hand, and with his anxiety at the location almost entirely stifled, he felt the extrovert inside him flare up at the sight of people that he liked. Most importantly though, was the mountain of liquor that seemed to be off to the side. He could absolutely work with that. He cast a look to Natalie, and with a wide grin he just about dragged her over to the table at the end of the clearing.

"Ever had a drink before?" he questioned, looking up to Natalie excitedly as he poured himself a cup of rum and coke that was more Kraken than it was coke. Greeting a group of people at a party with no drink in hand and no excuse when they all had one was a party foul, after all. "No pressure or anything, but this is basically all I could do for fun back home. That and fishing with Winky's shotgun."