Lord Wraith

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

No I say go for it I don't see this breaking any rules.

If MB overrules me I'll fight him for you.

@Sep

The sheet is now complete with a sample.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

B L O O D

---

^{"Gone, gone the form of man..."}

^{_{J A S O N B L O O D ♦ P R I V A T E I N V E S T I G A T O R ♦ P O R T L A N D, O R E G O N}}

O R I G I N S:

---

A man cursed with a demon, Jason Blood is forever doomed to walk the Earth, a man with no place to call home, and no persons to call friends. A world-leading expert on the occult and demonology. He has walked the Earth since the 6th Century, after the wizard Merlin bound the increasingly uncontrollable threat of Etrigan The Demon to his mortal soul.

Now his services are sought by other lost souls, those without hope who turn to the expert to delve into cases and mysteries that can't be solved or collaborated by the mundane authorities of the mortal plane. Drawn into
a web of lies and deceit, Blood must unravel a missing persons case that leads him on a blood trial, uncovering old skeletons before all hell breaks loose on the West Coast.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

“Cold,”

A gaunt man leaned over the body of the girl, his eyes wandering around the moss-covered forest she had been so hastily discarded in. Limbs askew, clothes torn, makeup smudged from tears. There was no care, no respect in this killing. Rigour mortis had passed, meaning the body had been left for over a day.

Odd that nothing else had preyed on its flesh.

A gloved hand slowly rolled the head to the side. The neck had been attacked, repeatedly by the looks of it. Numerous markings from a pair of puncture marks marred the now pale flesh. Whomever, or whatever had done this had missed the vein the first few times.

Inexperienced, fledgling.

The puncture marks confirmed what Blood had hypothesized, yet left many more questions. He thought he was tracking a much older vampire. This was the work of someone more recently killed.

He sniffed the air, the smell of a canine moving closer in the distance. Muttering a small incantation under his breath, Blood cast a spell to hone his hearing, the sounds of boots trodding the forest floor like drum beats in his ears while they chased the lumbering bloodhound that drew closer with every second Blood remained by the body.

He needed to leave.

Moving his hands quickly, Jason conjured himself an echo of the crime scene, storing the recreation in the gem of his ring before he beat a quick retreat uphill, back to the road where his car was waiting for him. Climbing into the seat of the ‘67 Impala, he turned the key to the heavy block engine as the black coupe roared to life.

“Portland Police!” A voice yelled from outside the car and Jason floored the pedal. The rear wheel drive sprayed gravel towards the officer who struggled to draw his weapon in time before the red taillights of the large Chevy disappeared down the twisting backroads amongst the redwoods.

“Did you get the plate?” The lead detective called to the officer from the ravine floor as the officer looked around dazed and confused.

“What plate?”

“On the suspect’s vehicle.” The detective replied, taking a few steps forward before the officer suddenly collapsed to the ground and began convulsing. Blood was no fool, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala was sure to draw attention and be easy to identify. However, a simple jinx on the plate meant an easy escape.

“I need medical help over here!” The detective roared, looking towards the road before attending to this officer.

There was more at work here than met the eye.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.

I have another spooky concept.

Please stop me before I write a sample this time if there is going to be a problem.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

B L O O D

---

^{"Gone, gone the form of man..."}

^{_{J A S O N B L O O D ♦ P R I V A T E I N V E S T I G A T O R ♦ P O R T L A N D, O R E G O N}}

O R I G I N S:

---

A man cursed with a demon, Jason Blood is forever doomed to walk the Earth, a man with no place to call home, and no persons to call friends. A world-leading expert on the occult and demonology. He has walked the Earth since the 6th Century, after the wizard Merlin bound the increasingly uncontrollable threat of Etrigan The Demon to his mortal soul.

Now his services are sought by other lost souls, those without hope who turn to the expert to delve into cases and mysteries that can't be solved or collaborated by the mundane authorities of the mortal plane.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

This city is killing me.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

^{◼ G M (s): Lord Wraith ◼ C O N S U L T I N G G M (s): None ◼ G E N R E: Fandom ◼ T Y P E: Collaborative Linear Sandbox}

^{"To me, writing is fun. It doesn’t matter what you’re writing, as long as you can tell a story."
S T A N L E E ( 1 9 2 2 - 2 0 1 8 )}

I N T R O D U C T I O N:
I N T R O D U C T I O N:

^{W E L C O M E F A N S O F D C, M A R V E L, A N D A L L C O M I C S A L I K E !}

Sensation & Wonder is a roleplay based upon the structures and mechanics of previous games run under the Absolute Comics banner but with a goal of overcoming the past games' biggest weakness; a lack of collaborative writing. As such, Sensation & Wonder is a collaborative linear sandbox roleplay that seeks to merge and mix the lore of your favourite DC and Marvel characters into one living cohesive world. The idea behind this RP is not to embody our favourite heroes to simply retell iconic stories and origins but to take these characters and make them our own. In fact, the goal of the RP is for players to take their favourite characters and re-imagine them to tell stories together. We only ask that the 'heart' of the character remains the same. Players will take the roles of their favourite characters and tell stories in collaboration with other players in order to develop and grow the world.

How heavily mixed these elements are is dependent upon the players as the world and its lore is shaped by you and your stories. Do Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark know each other? Has Lady Shiva trained with Danny Rand? Have Thor and Superman gone toe to toe? These are questions for you to ask yourself and they can only be answered as the RP unfolds!

S U M M A R Y:
S U M M A R Y:

^{"T H E R E W A S A N I D E A . . .}

. . . A N I D E A T O B R I N G T O G E T H E R A G R O U P O F R E M A R K A B L E I N D I V I D U A L S."

Heroes have been a part of our culture since the dawn of time. Each and every culture passed down tales of the mortal and the immortal, their struggles and inevitable triumphs over the forces of evil. Tales of honour, of love, of defeat, deception and even betrayal. We have myths, legends and numerous amounts of lore detailing the feats and downfalls of each of these heroes. When one mentions heroes, names of classical figures come to mind but this world is and always has been home to more.

No one can be sure of the first time alien life visited Earth, it may have been before recorded history, it may have been within the last century. One thing can be sure, that before the last decade we had all but forgotten they had been here before and they returned with fervour. The names of the first superheroes had all but been forgotten, those who fought in the great wars and worked behind enemy lines in times of tension. But, then came a man, not with a shield, but a cape. A man who could fly.

And the world's eyes were once again opened.

Costumed heroes once thought to be urban legends and menaces by the press and authorities alike suddenly took on a new reverence in the eyes of the public and so their names went from being spoken in hushed whispers to exclaimed excitedly as they flew overhead. With the emergence of these masked heroes, so too did their foes become more and more ostentatious.

Until disaster struck.

The presence of these superpower individuals brought the wrong attention and the world found itself under siege from the heavens as an alien force rained fire on the world and oppressed the populace while abducting and suppressing the masks who once protected the people. Earth was brought under the dominion of the Kree, an alien race faced with a genetic dead end and hoping the presence of metahumans and mutants among Earth's populace to be the key to unlocking their own evolution.

With Earth under control by this invading force, heroes and their villains alike are forced to put aside their differences and unite for a common goal. Over throw the Kree, save humanity and take back Earth.

Will you answer that call?

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

MB may swoop in and disagree, but Sep and I are feeling we can't take Danny Phantom at this juncture. There are still plenty of Marvel and DC characters up for grabs, and we have already denied a Power Rangers concept, so we'd both feel a little weird accepting this despite that. I do really like the sheet, though, and we may be willing to reconsider once the game's possibility space is filled out a little more Or failing that app this once I gather my courage and run a Fusionfall game.

@DocTachyon

Completely understandable.

Was worth a shot.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

D A N N Y P H A N T O M

---

^{"Witty Quote"}

^{_{D A N I E L F E N T O N ♦ C O L L E G E S T U D E N T ♦ P O R T L A N D, O R E G O N}}

O R I G I N S:

---

Young Danny Fenton, he was just eighteen,
When his parents built a very strange machine.
It was designed to view, a world unseen.

When it didn't quite work, his folks, they just quit,
But then Danny took a look inside of it,
There was a great big flash, everything just changed,
His molecules got all rearranged!

When he first woke up, he realized,
He had snow white hair, and glowin' green eyes.
He could walk through walls, disappear, and fly,
He was much more unique than the other guys.

And it was then that he knew what he had to do,
He had to stop all the ghosts that were comin' through,

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

"For the last time, I have no affiliation with that hack, Venkman!"

Jack Fenton roared into the phone before ending the call with an aggressive press of his thumb. He sat back and massaged his temples. That had been the third phone call this afternoon alone. He knew it’d be coming after what happened in New York nearly forty years ago. They shut Venkman down, discredited his and his colleagues’ work, and swept everything under the rug.

But Jack remembered.

It had inspired his work and between him, his now wife and his college roommate, the three had gone on to create the proto-portal that inspired his now complete ‘Fenton Portal’, a gateway to the ‘ghost zone’ and the object of his tele-harassment. His initial attempts to power the device had failed, but that didn’t stop this shady government organization from wanting to acquire it.

Looking up from his mobile device, Jack put away his gloomy expression and forced a smile onto his face before he addressed his wife and children.

"Sorry, Madds. I didn't mean to disrupt this dinner you worked so hard on, no more phone calls for me today" the burly man apologized before turning to his eldest. "How were your classes today, Jazz?”

“Dad, you and I both know you don’t care about my classes,” Jasmine ‘Jazz’ Fenton replied dryly, pushing a few loose strands of her red hair out of her face and tucking them neatly back into the teal headband she wore.

“You’re just probing to see if I saw any ghosts,” Jazz rolled her eyes, “No, Dad, unfortunately for you, my classes were painfully mundane.”

“Jazz, that might have been the case today. But I’ve been looking over maps of Portland for the past decade, and I’m very confident that your school sits on a Hellmouth.” Jack explained excitedly, “If anywhere in Portland is haunted, it’s Reed College.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Jazz smiled before picking away at her dinner. Jack had struggled to connect with Jazz since she had graduated high school two years ago. Jasmine being accepted into Reed was a point of pride for both of her parents, but Jazz had quickly outgrown Jack and Maddie Fenton and their ‘sick obsession with ghosts’ as she so mildly put it.

“Danny!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, pivoting the conversation toward his youngest, “I was wondering if you could help your old man tonight with powering up the portal, would love to see if I can get it running.”

“Uh yeah, sure, Dad.” Danny replied reluctantly, “I suppose I can do that.” His fork rolled a few loose peas around on his plate before Danny let out a small sigh.

“Not like I had plans anyway.”

A college freshman, Danny hadn’t exactly been an overachiever nor a popular student in high school. His grades were painfully average, his extracurriculars non-existent, and he had to live in the shadow of his popular sister who seemed to excel at everything she put her mind to.

If anything, Danny knew more about what the inside of a locker looked like, than he did the inside of a classroom.

“How about you, Jazz?” Jack asked, “Want to spend some time with the family?”

“Sorry, Dad,” Jazz replied coolly, “As tempting as that is, I have a date.”

“A date?” Maddie spoke up, “Will he be coming here to pick you up?”

“Ha,” Jazz laughed sarcastically, enthusiastically shaking her head, “No, no he will not. I’m meeting him at the library.”

“Oooh a study date,” Danny waved his hands, “Sounds hot, making out between the bookshelves, being shushed by the librarian.”

“Daniel,” Jack scolded, “That’s enough.” He stated before turning to Jazz, “If any boy is going to be taking my daughter out, I need to meet him.”

“He’s a man, Dad, and it’s just a first date, he doesn’t need that kind of pressure.”

“At least give us a name,” Maddie pried, “Just for safety at the very least,”

“His name is Angel,” Jazz replied before Danny burst out laughing.

“It’s a very common name in South America, Danny!” Jazz snapped. “You’d know that if you were more like Angel, He’s a very cultured man, unlike you.”

“I hope we get to meet him, Jazz.” Maddie smiled as Jazz stood from the table.

“Yeah, fat chance of that.”

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.

@Lord Wraith

@Master Bruce, @Sep & @DocTachyon, I've completed my sheet for review.

Wraith's Little Workshop of Horrors

Charon & Roth
An Agents of H.E.L.P. Spinoff

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University Campus}

Dance Monkey #4.050: Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: Time to Dance

“What a perfect asshole.”

Words seemed to falter for Lorcá who spun around quickly at Cass’ words before coming face to face with his cousin. A slow nod of disbelief agreed with the words as they hung between the pair for a few seconds. Lorcán was livid, he couldn’t believe that of everyone on campus, Aurora was here with Chad the Deflowerer.

“That’s who she’s here with? Chadwick Patterson? Chad!? He’s a total kook, a junkyard dog, a grom!” Lorcán ranted as Cass smirked,

“And worst of all, a Gulo.”

“True dat, Wolf Pack for life,” The pair exchanged a perfectly choreographed fist bump before looking back across the room. Cassander steadied a hand on Lorcán’s shoulder, giving his younger cousin a reassuring squeeze before playfully twisting the knife.

“She looks good,” Cass remarked, nodding towards Aurora as Chad led her away from Lorcán and the rest of Blackjack. “Like real good. Damn, you messed up, Lor,” The older of the pair added with a smirk.

“Thanks, cuz,” Lorcán replied wryly. “I still don’t know how I like, managed to make such a total gonk of myself.”

"Dude, you called her Amma." Cass replied with a shrug. “Girls tend to take it pretty hard when you call them the wrong name. Especially after staying at your bedside for like a week.” He teased the young man.

"No, I didn't!" Lorcán protested, a hand massaging his forehead before he looked towards Aurora again. A longing sigh escaped from his lips before Cass broke the silence.

"We don’t speak groan," Cass replied, "From Aurora’s perspective, she came to you after you recovered, you touched her hand and said, and I quote. 'Amma' with the biggest smile on your face."

"Amma totally healed me, I was like trying to tell 'Rora." Lorcán let out an exasperated sigh. "She was supposed to be here with me. I was as high as a kite, should have just like kept my trap shut and squeezed her hand."

Cass smirked.

"I believe you, cuz. Don't worry, I'll fix this for you." Suddenly Cassander paused, turning back to Lorcán before speaking again, “You know you still owe me for that vinyl you got ‘Rora like a year ago,”

“What do you mean ‘owe you’?”

“Money, man, money! You never paid me back.” Cass replied, turning towards Lorcán only to be greeted by a blank stare. “Right, flower child doesn't ‘get’ money.”

“I just don't understand how the world like runs on it. Seems like a total barrier for most people.”

“Hard to argue that statement,” The blonde man remarked with a wink before taking off his blazer, loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. "Make sure Harper sees this for me, will you?”

“Hey,” Lorcán grabbed Cass by the shoulder, “Did you notice if Lady Dude has a corsage?”

“I did, and she doesn’t,” Cass replied matter of factly. “Why?”

“Choka,” Lorcán smiled, “While you make a scene, I’m going to enlist our favourite matchmaker’s help.” He explained, waving his phone before calling Ripley. Cass smirked before saluting and disappearing into the crowd before giving chase to Chad and Aurora.

“If you and Aurora aren’t-” Ripley answered, immediately tearing into Lorcán who quickly tried to speak over his younger cousin.

“I need a favour,”

“And I need you and Aurora to communicate, so unless your favour helps with tha-” Ripley continued before Lorcán interrupted her again.

“Can you go to the greenhouse and pick up a corsage and uh, the man’s corsage?”

“A boutonniere?” Ripley replied, Lorcán could audibly hear the smirk in her voice.

“Yeah that, brah.” Lorcán replied eagerly, nodding his head while plugging his other ear as he moved towards the entrance of the A.R.C.

“Got a flower in mind?” Ripley asked, her tone softening.

“Blue roses if possible.” Lorcán replied, “She’s wearing a blue dress, roses are her favourite and if I like recall correctly they mean something about-”

“Unrequited love,” Ripley sang into the otherside of the line. “Bold choice, I support it.” She replied, the sound of her hastily exiting her dorm was clear as day through the phone. “Stay near the entrance of the A.R.C., I’ll be there soon!”

“You’re the best!” Lorcán remarked only to be met by a snarky scoff.

“And don’t you forget it.” With a click, the line went dead as Lorcán found himself exactly back to the place he had left Amma. He smiled, turning around to look back over the event, only for a sudden twinge of panic to set in.

He had left Cassander to his own devices.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

^{________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

_{Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University Campus}

Dance Monkey #4.049: Time to Dance

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Amma Cahors - @Rockette, Aurora Mitchell - @Melissa}

Previously: The Boys Are Back in Town

Entering his room, Lorcán picked up the suit bag that had been hung on the back of his door, clearly dropped off while he was out. While his Mom had originally only promised a tie, upon further digging into his father’s wardrobe, the pair had found something even better for tonight. A piece of paper was affixed to the bag and Lorcán quickly reached out, picking up the attached note. A smile crossed his face as he read his Mom’s cursive.

Finished the alterations, it’ll still look somewhat retro, but I think that fits the theme.

Pulling the zipper down, the baby blue jacket was the first thing that caught Lorcán’s eyes. Matching pants and a bowtie were hung inside while the ruffled shirt that should have stayed in the eighties was gone, replaced by a modern dress shirt with French cuffs. His mom had done a fantastic job tailoring the jacket and pants from their longer and looser ‘retro’ fit to a contemporary aesthetic complete with a peaked lapel.

The colour was downright radical, but Tori had insisted it was the right choice. She didn’t elaborate any further than that to her son, but Lorcán had learned years ago to trust Tori Roth; she had never led him or anyone else wrong.

Stripping down, Lorcán applied a fresh layer of deodorant before adding cologne to the mix. Pulling out a pair of boxers and socks, he quickly put on his base layers before finally dressing himself in the suit.

Emerging from the room, he looked for the other two while admiring himself one more time in the mirror. It was a bit bright for his taste, but Lorcán had to admit the tailor fit was perfect and there was no denying that he looked good.

Even if it was a bit stifling compared to his usual attire.

Leaving the dorms behind, Lorcán made his jaunt across campus, his mind racing as the nerves set in. A familiar figure stood in front of the A.R.C. as Lorcán approached, drawn towards the raven-coloured hair and luminescent tone of her skin.

"Hey you," Lorcán said, approaching Amma as she looked at the spectacle of the A.R.C., "Brah, this is kooky, I'm almost nervous to go in," He offered a small smile, his eyes fighting not to wander the length of her figure. Memories of dreams he shouldn't have had flashing back, sensations travelling his body that he fought to forget. It wasn't real, and it wasn't fair to Amma.

"Flying solo tonight, Black Betty?"

Amma peered through heavy lashes slanted over her eyes, a near slumberous look that bespoke of ease and mild temperament, a sort of subdued and calm exterior that was usually a severe and striking impression of a waspish person. Yet here, she was without qualms and hummed delicately in answer before she looked away and studied embellishments of feathers, jewels, and shimmering capes of crimson and obsidian speckled in delicate lines of gold.

"No one asked me officially, so yes, I'm flying solo, as you say. Though, a few have already asked me to dance." Amma laughed and waved her fingers in a dismissive gesture. "A dare, I think, to approach and talk to the scary dog of House Gulo."

“Anyone who’d compare you to a dog needs their eyes checked, brah,” Lorcán replied in almost a hushed tone. “You look absolutely radiant by the way,” He added, perking up. “I’m a lone wolf tonight, hoping to get a dance with Aurora, but otherwise content to just have fun.”

He looked at Amma again, pausing before opening his mouth. He hesitated a second time before finally speaking.

“I haven’t said thank you yet,” He started, “You were the one who saved my life, after that thing attacked me. I uh, remember feeling you, feeling you move in me. It stayed with me for a bit, I had some interesting dreams after,” His voice trailed off before he caught himself.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Lorcán finally spat out, “It means a lot knowing you have my back. I can’t imagine the last year without you.” He added, rubbing that tattoo sleeve hidden beneath the pale blue tuxedo jacket sheepishly.

“I know we’re not like super close or anything, but what I have gotten to know about you, I like. I hope I’m not wrong in saying we’re friends, Amma?” Lorcán offered, moving in to hug Amma the same way Aiden had hug her only a mere two nights ago.

“Still can’t believe you don’t have a date though,” He muttered again, “Surprised you didn’t ask someone yourself.”

Everything in Amma immediately tenses up, every muscle shored into place and her skin immediately wrent through with a tremor as that sense of encompassing awareness swept through her entire frame. As it always was with Lorcán, as was the coiling manifest of red and silver the pulsated over her heart in a medley of fated strings that tugged once, twice, nearly three times as he moved in to hug her. She hesitated, but allowed his arms to envelop her whilst hers hung at her sides, hands flexing before Amma finally slid her hands up his back and held there, returning his hug and later, his words.

"I felt you in the Trials too. I felt you call out to me. Just like in the hospital, with death near." She leaned back, head tilted up and to the side.

"I- Well. You're welcome. I had to.. try. Something. This last year has shown me. A lot." She sighed, unable to admit she cared for him aloud. "Friends though, perhaps." Amma doesn't know why, but the label seems disjointed, askew, not quite fitting but still appropriately placed.

Amma carefully moved out of his embrace, fingers lingering against the broad planes of his back beneath his suit jacket, unable to deny what she felt there as her hands began to shake again. "It's not in my nature to ask for anything. But I know someone will find me out on the dance floor. If not, I'll definitely find him."

“I rarely understand what you’re saying, brah,” Lorcán smiled, “But I love to hear you speak,” He added, Amma’s French accent still entirely notable to his ears, melodic upon the way her tongue danced along her annunciations and syntax.

He extended an arm to her.

“Least I can do is like walk you in, strength in numbers and all that, better to face it together than alone. Then maybe he can find you.” Lorcán added with a playful wink.

"Tu es du genre à parler," Amma laughed. "Anytime you want to trade accents and funny words, you know where to find me." She easily slid her hand to the crook of his arm, opposite fingers brushing over his jacket before resting there, the shaking finally coming to pass as she took his offered gesture.

"Oh, he will. I told him so already. It's just a matter of who finds who first."

And so Lorcán Roth escorted Amma Cahors into the A.R.C. Eyes fell onto them almost immediately, the stark contrast of the pair near alarming; her mane of black hair, pale skin, the tattoos and the ebony silk of her dress offset against the blue of his jacket and tan skin, molten eyes and sandy hair so different from her own impression. Clearly, by the looks exchanged, this was not the expected entrance and Amma lifted her head just a little higher, the immediate influence she heralded felt through the space with a delicate smirk woven over her features.

Beside Amma, the ever oblivious Lorcán looked around the room filled with his peers, his eyes blind to their staring while looking through the crowd. He was only looking for one person, the girl who made his heart skip a beat, the girl he had spent seven years lying through omission of his true feelings.

Tonight that ended.

Spotting loose curls of crimson spilling over freckled shoulders above a sweetheart neckline of baby blue chiffon, Lorcán removed his arm from around Amma’s and gave her a quick bow.

“I’m afraid this is where we part ways for the time being,” He smiled, “For what it’s worth, I hope he finds you first.” He added and then he was off, moving through the crowd before tripping on a classmate and stumbling forward, catching himself right in front of Aurora.

A wry smile crossed his face as Lorcán saw his suit beside her dress for the first time and realized why his mother had insisted on this colour.

Tori Roth never steered anyone wrong.

"Aurora, you look-" Lorcán swallowed, his eyes having a very hard time not wandering. "You look," He was finding words very hard.

"Wow, just wow,”

Some odd minutes passed and Aurora continued to find herself standing alone on the edge of the dancefloor, Chad still occupied getting their drinks. His friends hadn’t batted an eye as she drifted away from their group whilst she waited, couldn’t have cared less that she chose not to listen in on their riveting discussion of the last game they played. It was akin to watching paint dry, hearing them drone on and on about a sport she knew next to nothing about. So she embraced the solitude, simply observing her classmates around her.

Which is why she should have seen Lorcán approaching, should have seen how he bobbed and weaved with purpose across the room towards her.

But she hadn’t.

It was unexpected that he had sought her out first, caught her by surprise that he appeared so suddenly before her. Aurora’s heart seemed to sing as he spoke, complimenting her. He was here, talking to her, living, breathing; it felt surreal. She blushed almost instantly, and she smiled widely, the most genuine expression she’d given so far that night.

“Thank you,” The redhead managed to reply, taking in his appearance while she did so. He looked really good in his suit, a departure from his usual beachy attire, but as her gaze drifted she couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing a boutonniere. Had Amma not given him the one she got for her? Regardless, she exhaled, just reveling in this moment, resisting the urge to pull him in and hold him close to her. “How are you feeling?”

“Definitely better, Lady Dude” Lorcán replied eagerly, still taken aback by just how beautiful Aurora looked tonight. “Wow,” He muttered again, his ember-like eyes not leaving her. They blinked at her quickly, like a camera taking a picture before Lorcán gave his head a small shake and continued.

“Had to go and see Dr. Rivers, but she helped sort some things out, sorry I took so long to reach out, brah. My phone was like dead and I tried to find you after you left, but I was too slow.” He paused for a second before explaining.

“Kelcey told me you already had a date, so I didn’t want to ask and make things awkward plus I remembered on the beach you said you didn’t want to go with anyone so I definitely didn’t want to push,” He offered a warm, sincere smile, but his voice still trailed off, his eyes staring longingly towards Aurora’s lips.

Lorcán Roth loves Aurora Mitchell.

Shut up and kiss the girl.

“Plus this lone wolf is good to run solo at least for another night,” He scoffed with a soft, forced chuckle, clearly compensating for his own bad joke.

My oh my, looks like the boy’s too shy.

“I’m looking forward to our dance later, and I definitely want to have that chat, but maybe a night you don’t have a date. I have so much I want to tell you.”

Aurora’s mind was sent reeling, her pulse quickening with each additional reveal that left Lorcán’s mouth. He’d tried to find her after he woke up. He hadn’t texted her because his phone was dead. He’d wanted to ask her to the dance, but hadn’t because of what happened on the beach.

He didn’t have a date tonight.

It was information overload, her head riddled with so many more questions. But mostly, she felt like an idiot for having jumped to conclusions without hearing him out. Harper had been right, completely and totally right. She shouldn’t have left that hospital room so quickly, she’d let her emotions drive her actions.

“Wait,” Her eyebrows raised, attempting to process everything he had just said, “Are you saying that-”

“There you are,” Chad interrupted, strolling right into the middle of their conversation without a care in the world. He maneuvered himself beside Aurora, handing her the glass in his hand, “I’m assuming it’s going to be on the stronger side, one of my teammates was behind the bar, so,” He shrugged, before finally acknowledging Lorcán.

“Roth,” The dark haired boy stated by way of greeting, a smug look on his face, “Good to see you, heard we almost lost you.”

“Rora prefers seltzers, bro” Lorcán replied, the back of his neck bristling as he realized that Chad ‘The Deflower’ Patterson was Aurora’s date. Looking to Aurora, Lorcán immediately saw her discomfort before his eyes looked back at Chad. He took a long hard look at the other young man, but all he saw was Lance and Ryan again. “But maybe I’m not aware of her type,”

His chest was inflated, as Lorcán stood tall. His hands tensed, ready for a fight as he sized himself up against Chad. He trusted Aurora, but that didn’t mean that same trust didn’t extend to Chad especially as he tried to ply the redhead with more alcohol.

All the promises that Lorcán had made to himself to not ruin Aurora’s date were momentarily forgotten before he forced himself to relax. Aurora wasn’t going to go into the forest or off to Chad’s dorm after this, and the girls of Blackjack, let alone himself or Cass, weren’t going to let Chad leave with a drunken Aurora.

He had to trust his friends and his team.

“Why don’t I take that drink and bring a new one for Aurora?” Lorcán offered, softening his tone.

Aurora winced as she watched the interaction between the two unfold, noticing the shift in Lorcán’s demeanour almost immediately. For someone normally so laid back and go with the flow, it was quite easy to tell when he was tense, at least it was for her. The redhead had been prepared for him to be upset when he found out who her date was, possibly even a little annoyed, but what she had not expected was for him to square up against Chad, and challenge him. If she hadn’t been in the middle of things, both figuratively and literally, she would have found it attractive.

Chad, however, didn’t even bat an eye at his attempt, unbothered by his comments and his fiery glare. With Aurora’s gaze focused on Lorcán, Chad simply smirked at him, baiting him further, an unspoken dare to act. But as soon as her blue eyes were directed back, his expression shifted into something more friendly and neutral.

“That won’t be necessary,” The dark-haired boy replied affably, moving his arm to rest around Aurora’s shoulder, knowing exactly what he was doing, “If she wants a different drink, I’ll gladly get her one, but I just got what she asked for,” He looked down at Aurora with a smile, “Right?”

The redhead tensed within Chad’s grasp, clearly uncomfortable with the gesture, the prior information which Lorcán revealed still replaying in her mind. In that moment, she knew she made a mistake accepting Chad’s invitation, but these were the consequences of her own actions, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she didn’t follow through. So, even though the boy she loved stood in front of her, she had to ride this wave. Aurora exhaled, attempting to ease the tension, and nodded.

“Yeah,” The redhead agreed, recognizing that she hadn’t spoken up about what she really wanted to drink when he had asked. She’d had the opportunity but didn’t take it. “Yeah, he did.” She looked to Lorcán apologetically.

Lorcán looked sadly at Aurora. He didn’t know what had happened to make her accept a date with Chad, but he did know the timid woman in front of him was not his Lady Dude. This was not the behaviour of his best friend, this entire dynamic made his stomach turn. Aurora was a private person, but she trusted and confided in Lorcán. Watching the scene unfold before him only brought to mind the stories that Aurora had told him of her mother and stepfather.

It hurt him to see her just going along with Chad, Aurora wasn’t a pushover, and she certainly wasn’t her mother.

“Choka, well like enjoy your night I guess,” Lorcán stated, extending a hand towards Chad while the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, a cruel smirk that looked almost foreign on his face creeping across his mouth.

“Say hi to Lance for me,” He added, still holding his hand out. “Did the skin grafts ever take?” Lorcán asked, intending to twist the knife. His memory was clear on the happenings of the event, but the Pattersons were still without answers, even now, years later. He had to assume that Chad must have made the connection to Lorcán’s abilities a while ago.

“Hate to see someone’s future just get burned like that.”

Chad’s eyes darkened and his nostrils flared.

“Watch yourself, Roth.” He spoke through grit teeth, leaving the boy’s hand hanging in the air as he directed his attention to Aurora, “Come on, let’s go.” He began to guide her back to where his friends were still chatting, but not before she glanced back at Lorcán over her shoulder.

“I’ll find you later,” She promised him, silently mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ as Chad pulled her away. The sinking sensation in her stomach remained, and she took a sip of her overly strong drink to try and numb the feeling.

Lorcán’s eyes didn’t leave the pair as they disappeared into the crowd. He curled his hand into a fist before shoving it into his pants pocket.

He needed to find Cass.

Commencement: A Foundation Institute RP

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_{Location: Canis Dorms - Pacific Royal Campus}

Dance Monkey #4.048: The Boys Are Back in Town

^{_{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}}

_{Interaction(s): Gil Galahad - @Roman, Rory Tyler - @webboysurf^Indirectly}

Previously: Dancing's Not a Crime

Re-emerging from his room, Lorcán made his way towards the fridge, fishing himself out an orange soda. He opened with a loud ‘hiss’ before turning his attention to Gil. Rory had yet to appear leaving just the two other young men to entertain themselves.

“So like, I assume the plan is to totally procrastinate as long as possible and then get dressed at the last minute?” Lorcán asked rhetorically with a wry grin before taking another slurp of his drink. “In which case dude, you play?” He asked, gesturing with his chin towards the gaming console set up on the common room TV.

“I think we’ve got that one racing game, probably some sort of fighter?” Lorcán noted before his eyes wandered to the plastic instruments in the corner beside the television stand. “Of course, there’s always time to rock.”

The wavy-haired young man put his drink down on a coaster on the nearby coffee table, picking up a pair of plastic guitars before pushing the drums out in front of the TV. Scorch marks from Cass’ explosive hints marred the faux drum skins from a night that went on too long last June.

“It’s pretty simple, bro, just pattern recognition to familiar music,” Lorcán explained quickly, “You got a band in mind you’d want to play?” He asked again, making eye contact with Gil before tossing him the guitar.

“If not, s’all choka, we can just hit random and roll with it.”

Rory emerged from his room, lingering in the doorway as he finished styling his hair. He was half-dressed, smart slacks on and a white tank clearly meant to serve as an undershirt. His hair was parted carefully with gel, which he wiped off his fingers with a spare towel that he tossed back into his room. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to both men, as a smile widened on his lips.

“Getting the band back together?” His tone was jovial as he approached, eyeing the instruments and equipment for a moment before his eyes turned back toward the others. “I could use the distraction, man.”

“Get this in ya first of all,” Gil said, slinging the strap of the hastily-caught guitar over his head before pulling a beer can off the plastic ring and tossing it to Rory with one hand, finishing off his open one with the other. He pulled off two more, opening one and proffering the other to Lorcán, hoping to replace the orange soda with something a bit more loosening, teetotal or not. “Not much of a musician, but I’ve got a sense of rhythm at least. More than your two left feet, anyway.”

Rory caught the can of beer, eyeing it briefly before cracking it open and taking a sip. His body recoiled from the taste at first, but that slightly warm sensation was what he needed. He gave Gil a nod before continuing to drink.

“I’m just not a landlubber, like you, matey,” Lorcán replied, taking the beer can but setting it aside disinterested and unopened before running his hands up and down the imitated instrument.

“But these hands, these hands are skilled instruments of rhythm. Once my fingers find a beat, they’ll chase it crescendo to climax.” He turned back to Rory, “Did you want an axe, or are you feeling more your inner siren? Maybe the drums?” The molten-eyed Canis asked, offering the guitar to Rory for the other young man to make his choice.

A soft knock on the door interrupted the three boys as Lorcán looked between Gil and Rory to see if either were expecting someone. With a shared shrug, the three looked back to the door before Lorcán opened it to find a junior classman holding a large, brown paper bag.

“Uh, hi,” He said, extending the bag towards Lorcán, “I have a gift from Rory for a Larkin and an Aurora?” The junior fumbled his words, the accent on Lorcán’s name completely sending him for a loop as he guessed the pronunciation. “No wait, sorry, Larkin and Rory from Aurora.”

“Lady Dude sent food?” Lorcán asked eagerly, looking into the bag only to see two cardboard boxes, their plastic windows revealing flowers inside.

“They-” He stammered, slightly dumbfounded, “They’re corsages, please don’t eat them” The junior replied, holding the bag out again. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to tip me,” He joked as Lorcán raised an eyebrow.

“Bruh, what? Why would I have to tip?” The senior replied with a confused look, “Is that like, some kind of sex joke, bro?”

“I, uh, no,” The junior responded, awkwardly shifting his feet before suddenly walking away rapidly. With a shrug, Lorcán closed the door and pulled a note out of the bag. He gave it a quick read before flashing it to Rory.

“Lady Dude sent over a corsage for you to give to Haven, there’s two in there though, Gil do you have a date? I totally don’t need it.” Lorcán blew a few loose strands of hair out his face.

“Not food, but somehow needs to be in the fridge,” He mockingly bemoaned before jumping over the back of the couch. His foot caught and caused him to miss the seat and land on the floor in front of it with a small groan before he finished his thought.

“Ow,” He lamented, “This tubular wolf is totally going it alone tonight,”

His cheeks briefly flushed before he waggled a finger at Rory and Gil.

“Nope, I heard it, don’t say it.”

Rory raised an eyebrow, looking between the two as he finished his beer and shook his head.

“I will make sure to thank her later, man. It's a shame Borealis didn't want to go to the dance with anyone. Would have been a good opportunity to finally get everything out in the open.”

Lorcán barely registered Rory’s comment before Rory turned his gaze to Gil, holding his hand up and motioning for another beer.

“Of course, Gil has a date. Can always take himself to the dance.”

Gil raised an eyebrow at Rory’s jest; he was still uncomfortable with himself, and through that fear, his clones. He pushed another beer into Rory’s waiting hand, but held firm onto the can for a few seconds, locking his gaze with Rory’s and, in a low voice, muttered: “I’m taking a break from them for a while,” before letting go.

He took another pull from his own and then pulled a glass bottle from the plastic bag he’d dumped by the door. A dark brown liquid sloshed inside, and there was a ribbon wrapped around the neck, with a plastic stick-on bow jammed onto the cork. The tackiness of the adornments belied the expense of the spirit; this bottle had been a gift from Artie at the wrap party of Gil’s last Crestwood Hollow scenes, but it had sat unopened and untouched until this very evening. You could still make out the agent’s hurried-print handwriting in sharpie down the glass on the rear of the bottle, some stock platitude Gil had never bothered to read.

“Where d’you keep your shot glasses, Lorc?” Gil asked off-hand, putting the bottle down in plain view before moving to the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and rifling through crockery and silverware. “And I’m stag tonight as well. All the better to release some tension, I think. Only one person to worry about, and if that person is me, then I don’t have to worry very much at all.”

“I’m not sure we have any, bro” Lorcán called to Gil, “Might be like some in the freezer, I totally think Hoadley used to like shoot chilled shots of vodka.”

Beside Lorcán, Rory winced before looking away from Gil as he cracked open another beer. After everything, of course, Gil would be wary of duplicates.

“Right, I guess I wouldn't either if…” Rory didn't finish the thought. His eyes widened as he mumbled before he simply shook his head. It was best they didn't know he saw everything. It didn't make him feel any less guilty though. He had to steer the conversation away. “Hey, I'm just glad you two are back, you had me worried. Now that you guys are better, we can get some guy time in again. I'll even save you bros a dance tonight.”

“Bros,” Lorcán suddenly interjected, “My new lease on life has inspired me to be honest about a couple of things, and I have to tell both of you.” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I totally loathe being called ‘Lorc’, what even is that?” Lorcán exclaimed before continuing, “A French orc? Robert in a fancy hat? C’mon, dudes, Lor or Lorcán, no more of this Lorc junk.” He let the request hang in the air for a moment, taking a long sip of his orange soda before turning to Rory.

“So you and Haven, dude, have you DTR’d? Are your like sleepovers going to be a pretty regular thing?”

Rory grinned as he took a sip of his beer. “Yeah… she's been staying over since the Trials. I think we agreed to make things official. We talked about it after we got her back.” Rory paused, a painful knot forming in his chest as his thoughts returned to the sub-basement. He filled the silence with another sip of beer, trying to focus his thoughts on anything other than the wide-eyed stares of the corpses he saw. Lor’s mention of a new lease on life stirred something in his mind.

“What about Rora, Lor? If you want to be honest about anything, it might be time to tell her.” Rory turned his gaze towards Gil, silently pleading for a little support. Gil nodded in sync.

“I think I finally understand ‘honesty is the best policy’. I can imagine we’ve all had some…perspective, recently.”

Gil moved to the fridge, cracking open the freezer door and rummaging around the drawers to find the fabled shot glasses. He didn’t have to look long; Lorcán obviously had a better handle on his roommates than Gil had on his own. There was a set of four nestled amongst the ice in the bottom drawer; Gil fished one out, and held it in his palm for a few focused moments, ignoring the chilled pain of the frosty glass against his skin.

He put it back in the drawer and stepped away, picking up the bottle and tearing off the bow and ribbon before pulling the cork out of the neck. With one hand holding the bottle by the body, the other shimmered as it produced one, then two, then a third identical frosted shot glass, lined up neatly one after the other.

“Perfectly chilled and saves the clean-up.” He said, pouring out three shooters from the bottle. He picked one up and held it aloft, pushing the other two towards Rory and Lorcán.

“Not sure what to toast to. Everyone being out of the infirmary? Honesty? Having a good night without any life-threatening sabotage and or abductions?”

“At this point, it almost sounds boring for everything to go as planned,” Lorcán replied with a wry smile.

“To going with the flow, wherever the tides lead,” He cheered, raising his can of orange soda towards Gil’s shot. The shot poured for Lorcán sat unacknowledged, he wasn’t sure if Gil was being ignorant of the fact that Lorcán didn’t drink, and didn’t want to drink or if Gil was purposefully trying to put some sort of pressure on, try and loosen Lorcán up for his ‘confession’ time.

Part of Lorcán was relieved that Gil had ignored Rory’s plea, allowing Lorcán to escape any sort of heart-to-heart. The guys weren’t the ones he needed or wanted to do that with.

Neither Gil nor Rory seemed like they were in the headspace for unbiased opinions either.

Rory lifted the shot, holding it aloft as he flashed a smile to his friends, nodding as Lorcán ignored the one poured out for him. He paused as he eyed the drink, before levelling his gaze back to his friends. “To Blackjack.” He knocked the shot back, his eyes watering a little as he automatically grunted in response to the slight burn. He shook his head wildly, letting out a slight whoop. He reached for the shot left for Lorcán and knocked that back to, before clapping his hands together.

“I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be a Hell of a night, boys!”