Avatar of Lord Wraith

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Recent Statuses

3 mos ago
Current I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me.
4 likes
6 mos ago
But can the Ghost Note see why kids love the great taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?
2 likes
7 mos ago
Have you tried finding the Avatar?
9 likes
8 mos ago
When you manage to snag post 69 in the IC. Nice.
7 likes
9 mos ago
When a group of players click and the posts keep roling in, that's what GM dreams are made of.
9 likes

Bio

L O R D W R A I T H
L O R D W R A I T H

"TBD"
U S E R P O R T R A I T
U S E R P O R T R A I T
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U S E R S U M M A R Y
U S E R S U M M A R Y
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Lord Wraith
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February 21st | 31 | Caucasian
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Married | | Heterosexual
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Ontario | Canada

P R E F E R E N C E S
P R E F E R E N C E S
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C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S
C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S
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A B O U T M E
A B O U T M E
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All systems go. Back to writing.

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Most Recent Posts

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

Shame there's not some kind of Man of Iron who has a history of meddling with other people...


Much of what Andy said for Hex Rider is where I sort of resonant with Stark. Immediately building a team around him and his overall antagonistic view make him a nightmare to justify interaction and cooperation without character assassination. And while the movies and the comics do otherwise all the time, I have a hard time seeing a man in a suit as useful when we have literal gods, aliens and a woman imbued with the essence of speed running around.
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

I mean.

If that's something people want, I'm willing to do it. I'm willing to rework things, bring about the initial threat a bit quicker work better to help facilitate interaction.


I just want to see the RP be consistently active, will be working on my next Blood post, but definitely should maybe consider a character that'll be easier for interaction.
UOU - The Soft Reboot lol
Huh, didn't realize that was an option. I may weigh my options and see if it's worth throwing some elbows, at least to keep some folk on their toes.


That's my interpretation of this rule at least:

By applying, you agree to participate in the IC at least once every two weeks. Failure to do so without prior notice to one of the GMs will result in your character being removed from the roster without question. You may attempt to re-apply, but it's to be entirely at the GM's discretion.

I don't see any harm in expediting the process by actively challenging for the role. Which leads me to my next question, @Sep:

I'll give you a 48 Hr window to respond to the competing sheet

What does 'response' entail? Surely it must require the player to actually put forth a post opposed to simply stating in the OOC that something is coming if they're already past their deadline. The above quoted rule states 're-apply' but that's also vague in nature.
As it has been over three weeks without a Batman post, I'd like to challenge for the cowl.

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
T H E D A R K K N I G H T


"I am Vengeance."
B R U C E T H O M A S W A Y N E W A Y W A R D H E I R G O T H A M C I T Y
O R I G I N S:


Gotham City, a cesspool of crime and corruption once upheld by the guiding light of its community, Dr. Thomas Wayne. A former mayoral candidate, billionaire and philanthropist alongside his wife, Martha of the Kane founding family, the pair were creating a better Gotham before their lives were cut short leaving behind a sole heir in their son, Bruce.

Bruce Wayne was raised under the stewardship of Alfred Pennyworth, his father's closest confident and bodyguard. The family fortune however was put under the guardianship of Bruce's uncle, Jacob Kane until such a time that Bruce came of age to claim it. However, when that time came, Bruce vanished like a ghost in the night leaving Alfred to bitterly moan the loss of the boy who he had come to see as his own son.

Burdened with a mission to find justice for not only his parents, but vengeance for Gotham as a whole, Bruce travelled the world, seeking out experts in various skills, all while living under a plethora of aliases and getting by on the kindness of strangers and odd work. Eventually, Bruce fell into the ranks of the League of Shadows. But when the time came to complete his initiation through the execution of a petty thief, Bruce stayed his blade and was expelled from the order much to the disappointment of both the Demon's Head who saw an heir in Bruce and his daughter Talia, with whom Bruce had become involved.

Returning to Gotham a man now honed into a weapon, Bruce is prepared to do what he must to find his parents' murderer and bring justice back to Gotham. Seeking out his childhood friend, Dr. Thomas Elliot, Bruce is preparing not only to make his debut as Gotham's Prodigal Son among the socialites, but also on the streets as a silent guardian, a watchful protector.

A Dark Knight.

S A M P L E P O S T:

"Does Alfred know you're back?" Thomas asked, opening the door for the ghost of a man who had shown up on his private yacht a little less than an hour ago. The skilled surgeon had been trying to relax, taking some time off from Wayne Memorial Hospital before a bearded felon had boarded his watercraft and nearly took several years off his life.

"You're the first," Bruce replied through the matted scruff adorning his face beneath several years of shag that hid his forehead and ears. Layers of roughly worn clothes were pulled taunt over his shoulders and barrel-chested frame as the once lithe boy now stood with the silhouette of a boxer beside Tommy. Bruce's arms made Thomas' gym muscles almost pale in comparison. While pumped, he could have looked almost equally muscular to Bruce, but Bruce was resting now, and Tommy would have hated seeing what Bruce had been up to for all these years to earn himself such a physical form.

"Bruce, I think you're legally dead," Tommy replied with a chuckle, pouring a drink and offering it to Bruce who declined with only a small wave of his hand. Shrugging, the other man quickly took a long drink, before refilling the glass and sitting across from Bruce again.

"Where have you been all this time?" He asked, "I'd seen the tabloids and every so often there would be a story about 'Bruce Wayne Sightings' but I assumed it was like Big Foot or Elvis,"

"Did you go to my funeral?"

"Alfred never had one, your Uncle had a candlelight vigil in hopes you'd make it home safely, but after the first three years, they just sort of stopped."

"Understandable," Bruce replied, unphased, unbothered and frankly Tommy was finding it a little unnerving.

"Why now, Bruce?"

"Because now," The larger man replied, "Now, I'm ready."

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.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
T H E D A R K K N I G H T


"I am Vengeance."
B R U C E T H O M A S W A Y N E W A Y W A R D H E I R G O T H A M C I T Y
O R I G I N S:


Gotham City, a cesspool of crime and corruption once upheld by the guiding light of its community, Dr. Thomas Wayne. A former mayoral candidate, billionaire and philanthropist alongside his wife, Martha of the Kane founding family, the pair were creating a better Gotham before their lives were cut short leaving behind a sole heir in their son, Bruce.

Bruce Wayne was raised under the stewardship of Alfred Pennyworth, his father's closest confident and bodyguard. The family fortune however was put under the guardianship of Bruce's uncle, Jacob Kane until such a time that Bruce came of age to claim it. However, when that time came, Bruce vanished like a ghost in the night leaving Alfred to bitterly moan the loss of the boy who he had come to see as his own son.

Burdened with a mission to find justice for not only his parents, but vengeance for Gotham as a whole, Bruce travelled the world, seeking out experts in various skills, all while living under a plethora of aliases and getting by on the kindness of strangers and odd work. Eventually, Bruce fell into the ranks of the League of Shadows. But when the time came to complete his initiation through the execution of a petty thief, Bruce stayed his blade and was expelled from the order much to the disappointment of both the Demon's Head who saw an heir in Bruce and his daughter Talia, with whom Bruce had become involved.

Returning to Gotham a man now honed into a weapon, Bruce is prepared to do what he must to find his parents' murderer and bring justice back to Gotham. Seeking out his childhood friend, Dr. Thomas Elliot, Bruce is preparing not only to make his debut as Gotham's Prodigal Son among the socialites, but also on the streets as a silent guardian, a watchful protector.

A Dark Knight.

S A M P L E P O S T:

"Does Alfred know you're back?" Thomas asked, opening the door for the ghost of a man who had shown up on his private yacht a little less than an hour ago. The skilled surgeon had been trying to relax, taking some time off from Wayne Memorial Hospital before a bearded felon had boarded his watercraft and nearly took several years off his life.

"You're the first," Bruce replied through the matted scruff adorning his face beneath several years of shag that hid his forehead and ears. Layers of roughly worn clothes were pulled taunt over his shoulders and barrel-chested frame as the once lithe boy now stood with the silhouette of a boxer beside Tommy. Bruce's arms made Thomas' gym muscles almost pale in comparison. While pumped, he could have looked almost equally muscular to Bruce, but Bruce was resting now, and Tommy would have hated seeing what Bruce had been up to for all these years to earn himself such a physical form.

"Bruce, I think you're legally dead," Tommy replied with a chuckle, pouring a drink and offering it to Bruce who declined with only a small wave of his hand. Shrugging, the other man quickly took a long drink, before refilling the glass and sitting across from Bruce again.

"Where have you been all this time?" He asked, "I'd seen the tabloids and every so often there would be a story about 'Bruce Wayne Sightings' but I assumed it was like Big Foot or Elvis,"

"Did you go to my funeral?"

"Alfred never had one, your Uncle had a candlelight vigil in hopes you'd make it home safely, but after the first three years, they just sort of stopped."

"Understandable," Bruce replied, unphased, unbothered and frankly Tommy was finding it a little unnerving.

"Why now, Bruce?"

"Because now," The larger man replied, "Now, I'm ready."

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.
With a slider in either hand, Lorcán happily chowed down on the delicious little burgers while continuing to take in the sights and sounds of the Senior Formal. His eyes briefly wandered to the figures of O’Neil and Torres, perched above watching the students and looking far chummier than Lorcán had ever thought possible between a PRCUer and a Foundation member. Still, then his mind shifted to Amma again.

So perhaps it wasn’t impossible, still, he had always thought Jim and Miranda were an item of some sort but he supposed that most relationships were far more complicated than either of his parents ever let on. But did they necessarily have to be? It was something he had given a lot of thought to lately, if two people wanted to be together, what could possibly stop them? Love after all was not a feeling, or even an emotion, it was the proactive choice of getting up each day and showing your affection and care to another.

Love was a verb. You had to choose love.

Which meant if Lorcán wanted to be with Aurora, he had to choose to take that step, to show that initiative. His eyes wandered across the A.R.C. again to where she was, watching her with Chad and painfully knowing that she was not enjoying herself because he didn’t take action previously.

That ended tonight.

“Special delivery,” Ripley’s voice suddenly interrupted Lorcán’s thoughts as a hand tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around before finding himself standing over his small and younger cousin.

“Luce will likely shoot you for this if she ever finds out you specifically requested blue roses, those things take a lot of work to grow,” Ripley snarked, “But, if it makes Rora happy, I’m glad to oblige you, even if you’re a moron.” She smiled as Lorcán graciously took the box.

The moment was interrupted by a loud slap as Lorcán turned to see Cassander beelining towards Aurora and Chad. He hesitated before Ripely urged him forward.

“Go get her, Leo.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University Campus
Dance Monkey #4.064: Dancing In The Flames
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Interaction(s): @Melissa - Aurora Mitchell
Previously: Look What You Made Me Do

At this hour of the evening, the doors of the Mess Hall were bolted and locked and the lights were long since turned off, the building closed for the night. But that obviously didn’t stop Aurora and Lorcán from finding their way in.

This wasn’t the first time they had trespassed for the sake of dessert. In fact, at this point the pair had lost count of how many nights they’d teleported in to raid the walk-in freezer for ice cream before ending up at their usual spot on the beach. What started as a way to lift the redhead’s spirits from the nightmares that plagued her had now become the answer to any problem the two faced - bad days, arguments, poor grades - it all could be solved with a sweet treat. And tonight was no exception.

Reappearing from the industrial kitchen with a pint of Raspberry Ripple and two spoons, Aurora sat down across from Lorcán and handed him a utensil before popping open the container, placing it on the table between them.

“I should be careful, I don’t want to get anything on your mom’s dress.” The redhead mused before digging in, taking a bite of the sweet ice cream and humming contently, a small smile appearing on her face. The light of the moon from the large windows illuminated the room just enough, casting long shadows on the walls and floor. “Nice color suit by the way, but I shouldn’t be surprised,” She shook her head with a laugh, “Tori Roth is a mastermind, after all.”

“Yeah, my Mom never has steered us wrong,” Lorcán chuckled before taking a long taste of the spoonful of ice cream. He paused, tapping his spoon absent-mindedly on the pint before looking up at Aurora.

“Before everything got crazy in there, I had something I wanted to give you,” He said, lifting a small box and placing it on the table between them before opening it to reveal a wrist corsage adorned with a blue rose. “I noticed you didn’t have one.”

The redhead’s eyes instantly lit up as she beheld the delicate flower in front of her, her lips pulling into a grateful smile. When she found out earlier that Chad had forgotten to get her one, she tried to tell herself that it wasn’t important and it didn’t matter, that it was just a silly custom. But now, as she sat next to the person who knew her best, the gesture seemed to mean even more.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” Aurora softly expressed. She picked up the corsage and slipped it onto her wrist, admiring it before looking back up at Lorcán. “I should have said no when Chad asked me, should’ve known better that he didn’t have good intentions.” She revealed candidly, shaking her head. “I don’t even know what I was thinking, I didn’t even want to go with him in the first place.”

“I should have been there tonight with you.” She stated longingly, wishing she could go back and change things. “You even tried to ask me that night in the tent, didn’t you.”

“I tried, not exactly like eloquently,” Lorcán smiled, “Falling asleep didn’t help any, but like, Lady Dude, we’ve been best friends for seven years and that’s great,” He continued, “But have you ever wondered if maybe…” He paused, blushing slightly as his spoon traced around in the pint shared between them.

“If… maybe, there’s like more here?” He asked, “The way I feel about you, it like goes beyond friendship and if you felt the same-” His voice trailed off again. Lorcán was practically blushing at this point, his heart was beating inside of his chest, violently trying to burst through his ribcage. Aurora looked beautiful tonight, it took all of his restraint not to lean across the table and kiss her.

Instead, he tried to do what he had been failing to do and actually communicate with her.

“I guess what I’m trying to ask is if you’d maybe like to, go on a date with me sometime?”

If Aurora’s heart hadn’t already been racing a mile a minute, it would have simply stopped beating altogether.

He also wanted more. It wasn’t just her. If there was ever a time to tell him how she felt, it was now. So with a trembling hand, she placed her spoon down on the table, the metal utensil clattering against the surface.

“Lorcán, I-” She swallowed, hoping to clear the lump that had suddenly formed in the back of her throat, fighting back the nerves that had abruptly come over her. “If you’ll let me, I’m gonna talk for a second, because I told myself that I’d be honest with you, but I’m going to come back to that question and I promise that I’ll answer it.” She exhaled deeply, attempting to slow her heart rate before continuing, not waiting for him to reply.

Here goes nothing.

“Last week, when everything happened and it seemed like a very real possibility that I was going to lose you, I realized that things between us have definitely changed. At least for me, the way I feel about you…” Aurora reached up to grasp her necklace, but actively stopped herself, laying her palms flat on the table. “You mean everything to me, Lorcán, and-” She paused, struggling to find the words to convey her emotions, and laughed at herself. “God, I didn’t think this would be so difficult.”

She stood up, the jitters getting the better of her, and began to pace in the confined area between the table they had chosen and the table behind her as she spoke what weighed on her heart. She didn’t think she’d ever been so nervous around her best friend - but he was more than that, and he needed to know.

“I was planning on telling you how I felt. Tonight.” The redhead blurted, looking into his molten eyes, attempting to read them. “I think I might be skipping a few steps here, but I don’t even care, so I’m just going to come out and say it,” She took one last breath before taking the plunge.

“Lorcán, I love you.”

She let the words hang in the silence, her cheeks becoming rosy as everything was finally out in the open, her body stilling. There was no turning back now.

“I think I’ve always loved you, to be honest, I just have never been able to put a name to the feelings I’ve felt.” Unsure if the sentiment would be reciprocated, she tried to soften her strong statement. “And I’m sorry if this is too much, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the sam-”

At those words, Lorcán stopped listening, he didn’t wait for Aurora to finish her sentence as he clambered across the table, tackling the redhead in his arms and pressing his lips to hers. His hand cradled her jaw before the other took her by the waist and pulled her tightly against him. He caressed the side of her face as he kissed her, deeply, longingly and with every ounce of passion and missed opportunities from the past seven years. She tasted like raspberries, he was completely and utterly lost in her.

He could feel everything in that moment as her abilities mingled with his own, their HZEs becoming one and Lorcán felt the deep emotion that Aurora harboured for him as she felt the burning passion he carried for her. Taking a deep breath, Lorcán pulled himself away only long enough to reply before stroking the side of her face.

“I love you too.”

Time seemed to stop as Lorcán wordlessly closed the distance between them and every rogue thought in Aurora’s mind instantly dissolved as his lips met hers, her initial shock quickly melting away. The way he kissed her in that moment set her ablaze, sent her stomach in somersaults, and everything she had feared—the uncertainty, the possibility of rejection—was silenced in the way he held her. She wound her arms around his neck instinctively, wanting to draw him impossibly closer, her right knee bending as her heel left the ground, and the world around them ceased to exist. The redhead could feel his heart racing against her chest, beating in perfect sync with hers, and like that night in the tent, two became one.

Aurora blinked as he pulled away and spoke, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. The words were euphoric, they were the sweetest song with the most perfect melody that she wanted to hear over and over again. Her lips parted, but no words came out at first—only a soft laugh of disbelief, a mix of joy and astonishment.

"You- you do?”

"I have loved you every day, from the moment I met you to this one and I can't imagine ever ceasing.”

“I have always wanted you, even amidst all the distractions and noise, you are my guiding light, you are everything to me and I never want to have to experience a world without you in it.” Lorcán smiled lovingly into Aurora's eyes, gently stroking her face before speaking again.

“I’d like to keep kissing you, if that's okay with you,” He asked with his trademark wry grin.

Her chest tightened with emotion, and she blinked back the tears that threatened to spill as she looked up at him adoringly. This was it, what she had longed for, and yet somehow, this moment was so much more than she could have ever dreamed. For years, she had convinced herself that she did not know what love was, that it had slipped through her fingers, distant and elusive.

But how wrong she was, because Lorcán had loved her all along.

It was apparent in every gesture, every action. He’d shown it in the nights they spent on the beach, keeping her warm and warding off the nightmares that continually threatened to pull her under. How he’d spent the entirety of the trial trying to find her, protect her. It wasn’t just in the words he spoke, but in the silence, in the moments where he simply existed by her side, where he had always been.

Aurora leaned into his touch, his familiar warmth radiating across her skin, and this time she didn’t hesitate to surge towards him and capture his lips once more. Her hands slid down his chest and her fingers curled into his shirt, as if to keep herself anchored to him, afraid this would all disappear. The intensity of the kiss deepened and she smiled against his mouth, a breathless laugh escaping her.

"Lorcán," She murmured, voice soft and filled with affection, “Tell me again, please. Tell me this is real.”

Lorcán looked into her blue eyes, smiling blissfully before giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s real, it feels like a dream, but it’s real. I love you, Aurora, I could shout it from the rooftops, I could tell the world, but best of all, I can tell you, over and over again.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, playfully kissing the side of Aurora’s face before whispering in her ear again.

“I love you, only you and want you to be mine and I to be yours.”

Her heart swelled, warmth spreading through her chest as a tear slipped down her cheek, though she couldn’t stop smiling. The years of tension, longing, and unsaid words were finally unraveling between them. Aurora’s hand moved to his face, thumb tracing the line of his jaw, her fingers slipping into his hair. Her lips brushed against his once more, softer this time, slower, savoring the moment.

“I’m yours,” She whispered, her voice steady and sure. “I’ve always been yours.” Gazing up into his sunset-colored eyes, she saw the fire that burned there, the notion coursing through her like an electric current. “I’ve wanted this for so long, I just… I was scared.”

Lorcán reached a hand up to her face, longingly caressing it again before replying contently.

“There’s no reason to be scared now.” He reassured her, his hands not moving from her as he stared into her eyes again, lovingly looking at Aurora. If two people wanted to be together, what could possibly stop them?

Lorcán still didn’t know the answer, but he doubted anything could ever change the way he felt about Aurora. For so long he had dreamed, nay, hoped for this moment. Longingly watched her leave every night they departed and now in this moment, he finally had everything he ever wanted.

“I could stay here all night with you.”

The redhead wanted nothing more. Nothing else mattered — not even the fact that the dance was still going on, where their friends were likely wondering where they had disappeared to. In this moment, all that existed was them and the love they had finally found the courage to speak aloud.

“Let’s stay, then. Just us.” Aurora expressed softly, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile magic of the moment. She nestled closer into his embrace, her fingers still tangled in his hair. “I don’t care about the dance anymore, I didn’t even care about it to begin with.” She revealed with a soft smile.

“I only want to be with you.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Amity Park - Portland, Oregan - United States of America
Who You Gonna Call? #1.04: Angel
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Interaction(s): None
Previously: Escalating

The hiss of the brakes echoed down the empty street as the bus came to a stop outside of the Amity Park Neighborhood Library. Jazz stood from her seat, walking what felt like an eternity through the nearly empty bus. A hooded figure intently watched the lithe young woman as she walked past him, flashing a broken smile toward Jazz before she hurriedly departed onto the sidewalk. The air brakes releasing sent out another loud hiss, causing Jazz to jump before taking a breather and looking around the vacant street. A faulty street light flickered above her head casting long, eerie shadows between the intermittent spurts of darkness.

Rubbing her arms as the night breeze sent a chill down her spine, Jazz looked up at the library, the warm glow from inside seeped out its windows and added a luminescent glow to the building’s surroundings while illuminating the adjacent allies enough to see the subtle luminescent gleam of eyes staring back at her.

A low mew relaxed Jazz as the alley cat walked toward her, its tail slowly twitching as both Jazz and the cat cautiously sized each other up before the cat ultimately decided that Jazz was worth approaching. Rubbing its face against her shins and ankles, it purred excitedly hoping to entice pets from the young redheaded woman. Leaning down to pet the black cat, Jazz smiled at the small creature, only for it to suddenly bear its fangs and bite her hand before fleeing back into the darkness.

Jazz cursed under her breath before nursing the bitten hand, turning to approach the library only to walk straight into the chest of a man nearly a head taller than her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, Jazz looking upwards, relaxing as she smiled towards a face that could have been carved from marble. Statuesque and chiseled, his strong jawline cut almost a heroic figure beneath empathetic eyes that never seemed to leave her. If he were to tell Jazz that she was his whole world, she’d be a fool not to believe him. Short hair adorned his head, carefully styled, though somewhat retro in Jazz’s opinion, all atop a body that could have made Adonis blush. However, the man hid it beneath a billowing long coat only further adding to the intrigue and mystery.

“Angel,” Jazz managed to reply in a breathy gasp, “You snuck up on me,”

“Did the cat draw blood?” He asked, taking her hand and examining the wound, Jazz could have sworn he almost looked disappointed when the skin of her hand wasn’t even broken.

“No, thankfully,” The younger woman replied, withdrawing her hand, her cheeks turning several shades of crimson at his attention. “Just caught me by surprise is all.”

Angel’s intense gaze followed from her hand, tracing her neck to the flushed cheeks before he awkwardly turned towards the library door and gestured towards the building.

“Shall we go inside?” Angel suggested, “I don’t think we’ll learn anything about the Spanish Inquisition out here,”

“You’re cute, but you do realize that was just a front to see you again,” Jazz smiled, “I do have the internet at home,” She added wryly before tapping a finger to Angel’s nose and entering the building. A small smirk crossed his face as he followed before her, his eyes drawn to her neck as Jazz adjusted her hair, pulling it away from the tender, ivory skin. The faint scent of vanilla and lilac suddenly caught Angel’s nose and for the briefest second, his eyes flashed red.

Finding a small nook in the back so as not to disturb anyone, Angel pulled a chair out for a Jazz, before taking a seat opposite of her. Leaning across the table, the pair stared into each others’ eyes for several moments before Angel reached across and took hold of Jazz’s hands and broke the silence between them.

“So what do your parents do?” He pried, his intense gaze feeling like he was looking inside Jazz, analyzing her every moment and thought as she shifted uncomfortably at the question.

“Promise not to laugh, but they’re ghost hunters.” Jazz reluctantly admitted, “It’s been a constant embarrassment for most of my life. It was cute when I was five, but now…” Her voice trailed off as Angel gave her a small smile.

“So you don’t believe in ghosts then?” He asked, an innocent smile disarming Jazz as she blushed again before answering.

“I wouldn’t say, ‘don’t’, I don’t know, there’s too much compelling evidence to ignore that the supernatural couldn’t exist. But, what my parents do, it’s borderline obsession,” She replied, “Do you…” Jazz hesitated, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Oh,” Angel feigned surprise at the question being turned around on him. Jazz studied the man across the table from her curiously, only noticing now how under the warm light of the library she could see so many bluish veins from beneath Angel’s nearly translucent skin. The dark hair warded away the intrusive thoughts of asking if he was albino, but Jazz had never seen skin so unique as Angel’s.

“I stopped believing in ghost stories a long time ago,” He lied with a dry chuckle, “Though I’d still be curious to see the sort of equipment ‘esteemed’ ghost hunters such as your parents use in their day-to-day.” He added as Jazz pulled her hand back.

“You don’t have to be a dick about it,” She snapped, “They’re still my parents and they deserve respect,”

“Jazz,” Angel started as Jazz began to gather her things.

“I’m sorry, it’s late and maybe this was a mistake after all,” She looked at Angel, clearly upset as she feigned an apologetic tone. “I should get going-" Standing, she turned to leave before Angel locked eyes with her.

“Sit down.” He commanded, his gaze holding Jazz as she suddenly hesitated before suddenly she shook her head.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” She retorted, “As if,” She added clearly disgusted before storming out of the library.

“Jazz, wait,” Angel protested, chasing after her, “I wasn’t trying to insult-”

“SHHH!” The librarian on duty suddenly interrupted, stepping between Angel and Jazz before the door closed behind the young redheaded woman.

Stepping back out into the cold of the night, Jazz took a deep breath, pausing to pull her coat on as she checked the bus schedule. With her date cut short, she’d be waiting quite a while for the next bus and ultimately decided it’d be better to call a ‘Whizzer’ for a ride. Leaning back against the library wall, she tucked herself around the corner, into the alley in case Angel came chasing after her. If she hadn’t been looking at her phone she might have noticed the figure creeping up behind her in the dark before it was too late. Her phone suddenly clattered to the ground, the screen shattering as it met the cold asphalt.

A stifled scream was lost in the howl of stray dogs barking before Jazz was dragged into the darkness.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Amity Park - Portland, Oregan - United States of America
Who You Gonna Call? #1.04: Angel
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Interaction(s): None
Previously: Escalating

The hiss of the brakes echoed down the empty street as the bus came to a stop outside of the Amity Park Neighborhood Library. Jazz stood from her seat, walking what felt like an eternity through the nearly empty bus. A hooded figure intently watched the lithe young woman as she walked past him, flashing a broken smile toward Jazz before she hurriedly departed onto the sidewalk. The air brakes releasing sent out another loud hiss, causing Jazz to jump before taking a breather and looking around the vacant street. A faulty street light flickered above her head casting long, eerie shadows between the intermittent spurts of darkness.

Rubbing her arms as the night breeze sent a chill down her spine, Jazz looked up at the library, the warm glow from inside seeped out its windows and added a luminescent glow to the building’s surroundings while illuminating the adjacent allies enough to see the subtle luminescent gleam of eyes staring back at her.

A low mew relaxed Jazz as the alley cat walked toward her, its tail slowly twitching as both Jazz and the cat cautiously sized each other up before the cat ultimately decided that Jazz was worth approaching. Rubbing its face against her shins and ankles, it purred excitedly hoping to entice pets from the young redheaded woman. Leaning down to pet the black cat, Jazz smiled at the small creature, only for it to suddenly bear its fangs and bite her hand before fleeing back into the darkness.

Jazz cursed under her breath before nursing the bitten hand, turning to approach the library only to walk straight into the chest of a man nearly a head taller than her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, Jazz looking upwards, relaxing as she smiled towards a face that could have been carved from marble. Statuesque and chiseled, his strong jawline cut almost a heroic figure beneath empathetic eyes that never seemed to leave her. If he were to tell Jazz that she was his whole world, she’d be a fool not to believe him. Short hair adorned his head, carefully styled, though somewhat retro in Jazz’s opinion, all atop a body that could have made Adonis blush. However, the man hid it beneath a billowing long coat only further adding to the intrigue and mystery.

“Angel,” Jazz managed to reply in a breathy gasp, “You snuck up on me,”

“Did the cat draw blood?” He asked, taking her hand and examining the wound, Jazz could have sworn he almost looked disappointed when the skin of her hand wasn’t even broken.

“No, thankfully,” The younger woman replied, withdrawing her hand, her cheeks turning several shades of crimson at his attention. “Just caught me by surprise is all.”

Angel’s intense gaze followed from her hand, tracing her neck to the flushed cheeks before he awkwardly turned towards the library door and gestured towards the building.

“Shall we go inside?” Angel suggested, “I don’t think we’ll learn anything about the Spanish Inquisition out here,”

“You’re cute, but you do realize that was just a front to see you again,” Jazz smiled, “I do have the internet at home,” She added wryly before tapping a finger to Angel’s nose and entering the building. A small smirk crossed his face as he followed before her, his eyes drawn to her neck as Jazz adjusted her hair, pulling it away from the tender, ivory skin. The faint scent of vanilla and lilac suddenly caught Angel’s nose and for the briefest second, his eyes flashed red.

Finding a small nook in the back so as not to disturb anyone, Angel pulled a chair out for a Jazz, before taking a seat opposite of her. Leaning across the table, the pair stared into each others’ eyes for several moments before Angel reached across and took hold of Jazz’s hands and broke the silence between them.

“So what do your parents do?” He pried, his intense gaze feeling like he was looking inside Jazz, analyzing her every moment and thought as she shifted uncomfortably at the question.

“Promise not to laugh, but they’re ghost hunters.” Jazz reluctantly admitted, “It’s been a constant embarrassment for most of my life. It was cute when I was five, but now…” Her voice trailed off as Angel gave her a small smile.

“So you don’t believe in ghosts then?” He asked, an innocent smile disarming Jazz as she blushed again before answering.

“I wouldn’t say, ‘don’t’, I don’t know, there’s too much compelling evidence to ignore that the supernatural couldn’t exist. But, what my parents do, it’s borderline obsession,” She replied, “Do you…” Jazz hesitated, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Oh,” Angel feigned surprise at the question being turned around on him. Jazz studied the man across the table from her curiously, only noticing now how under the warm light of the library she could see so many bluish veins from beneath Angel’s nearly translucent skin. The dark hair warded away the intrusive thoughts of asking if he was albino, but Jazz had never seen skin so unique as Angel’s.

“I stopped believing in ghost stories a long time ago,” He lied with a dry chuckle, “Though I’d still be curious to see the sort of equipment ‘esteemed’ ghost hunters such as your parents use in their day-to-day.” He added as Jazz pulled her hand back.

“You don’t have to be a dick about it,” She snapped, “They’re still my parents and they deserve respect,”

“Jazz,” Angel started as Jazz began to gather her things.

“I’m sorry, it’s late and maybe this was a mistake after all,” She looked at Angel, clearly upset as she feigned an apologetic tone. “I should get going-" Standing, she turned to leave before Angel locked eyes with her.

“Sit down.” He commanded, his gaze holding Jazz as she suddenly hesitated before suddenly she shook her head.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” She retorted, “As if,” She added clearly disgusted before storming out of the library.

“Jazz, wait,” Angel protested, chasing after her, “I wasn’t trying to insult-”

“SHHH!” The librarian on duty suddenly interrupted, stepping between Angel and Jazz before the door closed behind the young redheaded woman.

Stepping back out into the cold of the night, Jazz took a deep breath, pausing to pull her coat on as she checked the bus schedule. With her date cut short, she’d be waiting quite a while for the next bus and ultimately decided it’d be better to call a ‘Whizzer’ for a ride. Leaning back against the library wall, she tucked herself around the corner, into the alley in case Angel came chasing after her. If she hadn’t been looking at her phone she might have noticed the figure creeping up behind her in the dark before it was too late. Her phone suddenly clattered to the ground, the screen shattering as it met the cold asphalt.

A stifled scream was lost in the howl of stray dogs barking before Jazz was dragged into the darkness.
Steve's still got a way to go before he's ready to hang out with Americans


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