Avatar of Kaithas
  • Last Seen: 1 yr ago
  • Old Guild Username: Kaithas
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 1222 (0.31 / day)
  • VMs: 2
  • Username history
    1. Kaithas 11 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Bless my soul, Herc was on a roll.
3 likes
7 yrs ago
"One could argue your entire life is garbage." -my organic chemistry professor
7 likes
7 yrs ago
my life is a sitcom. and not one with very good dialogue
6 likes
8 yrs ago
you people are feeding my problem XD
6 likes
8 yrs ago
I've got this obsession of having all the statuses on my profile page with more than 2 likes. I know that when the wailing winds of darkness come for me, these thumbs up will keep them away!
4 likes

Bio

Hey, I'm Kaithas. I'm still alive.

Most Recent Posts



Already sent this to our GM in PM form, but I figured I'd post it here too.
...

Sometimes, everything just clicked, and the cosmos made sense for an instant. That was pretty much the feeling Amy got when she saw Lauren hugging her mother. Family resemblances weren't always obvious, but this one was--in a flattering, good way. Costa showed Lauren at an older, more mature phase in life. Still sparky, still with the same impeccable fashion sense, but a little more controlled.

It also did occur to her that this was going to be a long day of saying her name over and over. "I'm Amaranth... Errr, Amy Desire," she said, smiling slightly and walking up to Ben's right side, waving as she did. Couldn't exactly expect Costa to extend a hand in greeting when her daughter was currently consuming her attention. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Negasi." There was another pause, as the l sound on the front of 'Lauren' formed before she shifted, guessing she should use the woman's daughter's real name around her. "Lorena missed you." She smirked, finishing with the obvious.
Sometimes, days just went from bad to worse.

Damn him. Damn whoever this creep was, acting like he knew her daughter better than she did, pulling her back here, bringing attention when she just wanted to leave. "Maybe?" A nervous laugh forced its way out of her as the older man seemed to retreat into himself, seemingly satisfied with the mischief he'd managed. "But the odds are so low, never go on appearance alone, I always say--"

"Ms. Desree? Wisteria? Do you want me to call your daughter and give you her schedule, or not?"

A real frown that went all the way to her forehead spread across her face as she backpedaled. "I mean, it is entirely possible, but--It may even be likely--Maybe?"
IC: Baby Nazario

She supposed that she shouldn't exactly be surprised by Apophis being as odd as he was--Sangue, for as much as Amy was attached to her, wasn't exactly an ordinary girl. Still, exactly how strange Apophis looked was something of a shock. The stitched mouth, the missing eye, his posture, almost like a puppet with loose strings, they all added up to one odd individual. There was something to be said for heightened senses: he wasn't undead since he smelled perfectly normal, though his handshake evidently left a lot to be desired from the limp way he extended his arm.

He didn't want it, or he sucked at it. Either way, Amy wasn't going to try for one herself. She smiled, ruffling the back of her hair with her left hand before waving with it and putting her right arm around Sangue's shoulders. "I'm Amaranth Desire, but most people call me Amy. And I guarantee you that any joke you want to make with that name has already been made 50 times over."

...Amy had to admit she was somewhat comforted by his strangeness. That wasn't to say she wasn't unnerved by him--no, far from it. But at least if the others had odd families too, she could be a little more relaxed in not knowing her own.

IC: The Odd Family, Arin Glint

"We do have an Amaranth Desire, miss."

Wisteria blinked, a nervous smile spreading on her face for a moment before being swiftly canned and contained. "H-how do you know Amy? And what's with the... the... the..." The blonde woman giggled nervously as she looked behind Arin, to the couple that had just entered.

"Our relationship is purely a professional one, I assure you," Arin responded, the slightest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. If he noticed her distress, his face didn't show it. Just that maddening smirk that implied some internal joke she didn't or couldn't get. It was infuriating. Wisteria could feel her anger fighting with her nervousness, just wanting to scream at him to answer what it was he found so damn funny about her. But for the moment--like so many other times--her fury was losing. She just wanted to not be there, not have to deal with--

Andrew. Why? Why was he here, today? Surely he didn't... And who was that with him? Why couldn't she be somewhere else, Amy obviously already had-- UGH!

***

The other half of the conversation, on the other hand, was far more collected. But that was the norm, was it not?

At the rapidly expanding expression of panic and confusion on Wisteria's face, Arin finally looked over his shoulder to see what had alarmed her so, before turning slightly and stepping backward--both so he could see everyone in the room, and so Wisteria would no longer be shielded by his form from the other two--now three--in the room. His silver eyes absorbed the appearance of the male Hawk Faunus in the couple impassively, his attention turning to the newcomer and the Cat Faunus in turn, before time slowed.

Well, to be more accurate, his thoughts sped up. He knew Amaranth could do something similar, but her ability was more sensory. His was entirely in the brain.

Wisteria was easy to analyze, as it were. The almost flower like appearance, the lower lip trying to come out but barely being reeled in. She was a little girl in the body of an aging woman, obsessed with playing dress up and sticking with what she once was, with none of the patience, or integrity that came with age. She would not age gracefully, either, if she kept worrying about it as much as she did. Of course, he was somewhat cheating with her. He had always insisted that he did his research on... professional contacts, and he had found PLENTY of information in tabloids on Wisteria Desree while following Amaranth's trail. None recently, but it did not appear much had changed.

He frowned slightly as a flurry of thought regarding the couple raced through his head. The significance of the hawk Faunus was obvious, given Wisteria's reaction to him. If he was not Amaranth's father--someone Arin had not been able to find, regardless of the intensity of his information gathering--he was a close enough facsimile to evoke a response from the woman standing beside him. For the moment, Arin would move forward with that hypothesis. He did recognize the man--even if Hunters did not have the level of fame requisite, notable Hawk Fauni caught his eye, mostly because he was unable to solve the father problem.

The resemblance was truly remarkable.

Ticking over to the woman, Arin's mind had remarkably little to say. The hawk's wife, maybe? He did not seem to recognize Wisteria, at least not immediately, so he likely had not come here with her. The conversation they were having processed quickly. The two of them were here to see another student--an injured one--not Amy, adding another wrinkle to the puzzle.

The newcomer seemed to be inconsequential in regard to the scheme for the moment. He had his own business to take care of, after all, and he could not spend all of his brain energy on everyone he saw.

His thoughts slowed again as he noticed someone begin to cross his field of vision to leave.

"Leaving so soon, Ms. Desree? You have not even seen your daughter yet..."

Wisteria faltered, but continued.

He twisted the knife.

"They will surely tell her you were here. Odd behavior, to be sure. What would people think?"

She was pinned.
IC: Wisteria, ???

The face that stared back at her was older, the blonde hair surrounding her violet eyes not showing the streaks of grey she knew ran through it. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Her hands were shaking, smearing the mascara she was trying--relatively unsuccessfully--to apply. A short, high pitched burst of noise came from her mouth as she hurled the bottle across the room, turning back to that same damn haggard reflection, inhaling deeply again, the shudders seeming to leave her as the following breath of air left. She rolled her shoulders, breathed, closed her eyes, breathed, refocused, breathed. Calm yourself. The mascara is not what you're angry about.

Her fingers clenched, unclenched, fell to the sink. She looked at the twin in the mirror again. It'd have to do--no way she would be able to look more presentable as long as she stayed in this state of mind. The light purple dress--colored like her namesake--flattered her well, but she supposed she deserved the holes in her facade after all this time. A carefully controlled smile twisted her mouth, perfect white teeth barely visible in the small grin. Then, the frown, not creasing her brow as she did, only the corners of her mouth slightly falling. A far steadier--but still trembling--hand wiped the smeared mascara away.

Satisfied, she turned from the mirror, took a deep breath, stepped through the door and snatched her purse off the bed. As good a time as any, Wis.

***

Her hand clutched her purse, the gentle wind of the cool Monday morning flapping her dress to one side and her other palm to press down on the top of her hat in hopes of it not blowing away. They made an odd couple, she and the man standing next to her, old enough to be her father but still here for family day. She pulled out a small folding mirror and looked in it, at her face and then at the man again. Definitely older. Probably a grandparent.

The head office was evidently where her unspeaking companion was bound for as well, though he followed her a few paces behind and seemed to be preoccupied with something. She'd tried speaking, once or twice, and he never responded, not during the entire walk to the office. Losing your touch, there, Wis.

Her hand clenched on her bag again as she stepped up to the receptionist. "Wisteria Desree. I'm... Trying to find my daughter."

"Sorry," the woman responded, after tapping at her scroll. "No students by the name of Desree. Want to try another last name?"

"Try 'Desire'," a sonorous voice said from behind her. She whirled around, the man from earlier smiling slightly as a nervous laugh burst out of her. "And... Who are you?"

He adjusted the platinum frames on his nose, an easy grin spreading across his face. "You'll have to forgive my rudeness. Arin Glint. A pleasure to meet the mother, Ms. Desree."
To her credit, Amy managed to maintain an expression of genuine consternation while Lauren went off on their captain for his perceived slight against the two of them. Her hands were on the hips of her borrowed sweats in imitation of Lauren's pose, her arms crossing almost precisely when Lauren's did, maintaining an image of solidarity with her teammate against the man. Singular. Because there was only one on this team.

Ha.

Still, she didn't let one iota of her amusement show on her face. There was some significance to "get thee to a nunnery", but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was. Damn, should have taken English.

...

...I don't think he realizes how much effort I'm putting into this, she thought as she let her Semblance dial back down, her reaction time slowing again. She'd not trained herself as much as Lauren had to hear Sangue, but she supposed it was somewhat reflex at this point--and her Semblance certainly helped. She smiled at the snake as Lauren greeted her. "Morning, Sangue."
That was the sigh of a soon to be broken man.

Amy smiled innocently, her eyes staying firmly locked on her Captain's to notice any slight... flutters in his attention as she stretched, winding her fingers together over her head, twisting her hips to one side before snapping them back the other way. A pop echoed from her lower back and she smiled wider as she brought her arms back down to her sides. "Back to the dorm? But we just came from there!"

Her mouth turned to a slight frown, though her eyes were still alight. "I'm also not sure how much I like your implication that we'd freak visitors out. Lauren?"
Well, Lauren had already stolen the idea of dressing in Ben’s clothes, so she’d have to find some other way of messing with him. Didn’t mean she couldn’t still grab something of his to wear… A long pause, and she started rummaging through his wardrobe.

Five minutes later, and Amy had managed to squeeze her hips into a pair of Ben’s sweatpants, saying a short prayer for the strained fabric before digging through the wardrobe for a shirt. She’d snagged a t-shirt, was about to put it on-then she looked across the room to one of the bedposts. A smirk spread across her lips as she picked up the item of interest, glancing at it, then down at her bra.

A shrug.

May as well commit.

Finding Lauren wasn’t exactly a difficult matter, only as hard as chasing the calls for Ben to come collect his clothing that were echoing through the hallways. She walked after her quickly--not too quickly--before rounding a corner to see the boxer.

“I brought yours,” Amy said, grinning widely. She still had Ben’s sweatpants on, it wouldn’t do to miss this opportunity to mess with him (though they looked more like yoga pants on her), but above the waist… The contrast wasn’t as high between Amy’s ivory skin and the white coat as it was with Lauren’s, but she still wore it well… And totally braless.
Amaranth rolled over, her soft blue eyes following the ceiling fan like the emerald pair at the bottom of the bed. Torturing Ben did seem tempting, to be sure, and she should probably at least try to participate in whatever else was going on today. She smirked, her voice turning into a tone of mock naivete.

"Right, we're all so innocent in the carnal hell that is Ben's life."

"If he would stop getting boners, I would stop provoking them!"

A soft laugh rang out from the top of the bed as Amy pushed herself up. "I suppose I could be persuaded to get up, so that your parents won't find you surrounded by stolen crap and in bed with a stripper. All for the greater good of the team, right?"

Amy leaned forward, rolling onto her knees so her face was only inches from Lauren's, eyes drifting across to Ben's wardrobe suggestively before moving back to Lauren's. "So... I should get into uniform, right?"
Later, Amy would regret waking up at that moment. Unfortunately, regret didn't let her alter the flow of events, or prevent all of the teasing that would happen as a result of awakening when she did.

"Good mmmmmphorning, Lauren," the stripper said, burying her face in her pillow, feathers spiking up as she did. She stretched, almost languidly, her right leg shaking a little before her body collapsed into relaxation again. "Those wake up calls lose their effectiveness on weekdays."

The only way to make a Monday worse? Wake up next to a prostitute with a night of regrets and breath you wouldn't use Listerine on for fear of starting some kind of chemical reaction in your mouth. Most of her classier dates were on weekends as well. Hearing this at the week's beginning wasn't exactly usual fare.

Oh, ####. Today was Family Day.

She gripped the pillow tighter, trying to go back to the night before and the small inkling of hope that had come with it. No, not that Wisteria would come. She wouldn’t. It was as simple as that, and to be honest, Amy was somewhat glad she wouldn’t. But after the terrifying slog that had been the team’s previous mission, a return to at least somewhat normal life was welcome. Next weekend, maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad--and at some point between now and then, she could…

Still, it was a Monday. And greater plans than those of mere mortals had been destroyed in the face of the work-week demon.

"Do I have to get up now?
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