Mortim

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

Darsby would have moved, spoken, and acted exactly as prescribed concerning aforementioned circumstance. He’d remain wordless as Anora spoke to him, shoving blame in his direction via panicked speech.

When Anora reached for Darsby, he’d have twisted about rather suddenly. His body now faces her after one clumsy spin of the heel. Her hand, regrettably, would grasp aimlessly at his chest, feeling at ridges of thin but noticeably tone muscle.
Our man, unlike most, appears to ignore Anora’s touch entirely, one could think it’s to the point of him not feeling anything in the first place. His face was callous as ever during all action, mayhaps he looked to be furthered exhausted by some unknown strain.

“Why is this all ‘my’ fault?-” Darsby would immediately say, exasperation plain as day by each syllable. His arms spread to the side in stressed gesticulation.
“-What? You meet a strange person and you just assume whatever other weird things happen are all because of them? That’s mean, you’re kind of being a jerk after hitting me with your car.” He scoffs, his head gyrating by last spoken sentence to drive the point home. Darsby then turns away to walk towards the receptionist desk.

Darsby stumbles towards his destination at a gradual pace, another oceanic cloud of grey consuming allotted space above him. Whilst strutting forward his right hand would unlock the cartridge holding all six revolver shells from it’s typical hinges, spinning the mechanism whilst sighing down towards it’s fully loaded visage. *Click!* The weapon is set back to normality, his stance following suite just before he seeks to lean on the nearby counter with his left elbow. His head turns back towards Anora, an air of understanding coming over him. Those eyes, in all their jaded exasperation, hold no malice for her whilst speaking.

“Look… I get it. This is all a little crazy, and, truth be told, it’s about to get really crazy. I’m sorry, honestly, I’m..-” Darsby interrupts himself with a confused scoff, struggling to find proper words whilst his right hand runs with a tentative tremble through rose pink hair.
“This would be simpler if you weren’t already part of an ‘average’ society.-” His free hand gestures towards the uneased few near them, an odd sadness denoting painful memory robs his vacant gaze from present circumstance.
“But, now, you’re involved. You kind of always were, but, like… It’s gonna be hard from now on. I’m a crappy guy and-.. it’s just gonna kind of suck that you’re dealing with me.” He then steps away from the counter, looking away from Anora wherever she may by now. Darsby’s shoulders would spread to the edge of a bowed head as if he were trying to look solemn and heroic in a difficult situation. In truth, Darsby could do nothing to hide the fact that what he had just said made it too difficult to look this young woman in her ponderous eyes. Pain took hold for a few brief seconds before he’d revert to his previously witnessed states of sapped rage.

There was little time to debate what Darsby’s words meant. *Bang!-Bang!Bang!* Three bullets leave a now heated chamber some distance in the direction of where our male police officer had departed earlier. The badged woman near Anora would grip her firearm with one hand whilst her other would grab at the lapel mic near her chin.

“Rodgers!? Rodgers what happened!?” Static is the only response to this suddenly sharpened law-holder. Her hand switches from the mic to wave with an open palm towards everyone in the room.
“I’m gonna need everyone to stay here and remain calm.” She says before removing the gun from it’s holster to pace the wide hallways leading towards whatever weapons discharge may have occurred.

Darsby watches, openly unconcerned over whatever nameless threat may be rearing its head. Soon after said officer leaves, the man spits his cindered cigarette into open air. This cherried vessel combusts, small red sparks and a poof of smoke being left in its wake as the entirety of one swirling ocean above quickly fades from view as if it had never existed. All queer grey trails and scents dissipate from sensory perception.

“Uhm, s-sir?-” Our young receptionist looked to Darsby, blinking soundlessly for several seconds. They were at a lack for words over their present situation, let alone the fact that a random patient had silently appeared before them.
“-S-sir!” The nurse would shout between hurried breathes, Darsby having begun to walk towards the path taken by both police officers of earlier mention.
“Shut up, stay seated.” Darsby would casually order, his left hand raised to point loaded firearm at the one attempting to halt him. Our injured man wouldn’t have looked away from the space before him or ceased his stride whilst doing this, entering the hall soon after.

Those within the room had gasped at sight of a weapon, shocked by the appearance of another dangerous element. Darsby cares little, letting loose a winded sigh as he stares down a corridor fifteen feet in length, ever-shortening before his slow gait. Several patients look from their rooms to gasp at one of two things, his openly visible buttcheeks, or the revolver at his side.

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

You're fine! I obviously get distracted and take a couple days sometimes too lol.

You did fine! I'll try and get better at labeling NPC's in my posts but you can feel free to do what you want with them for most anything. Feel free to try and interrupt my character from doing something too, I'll let you know if it works or not but you never know unless you try. I like how she came to realize no one was noticing him, that was really cool.

I'm working on my next post now. Life has been really crazy lately. I only end up having an hour or two to myself each day and those usually have to be spent cleaning or preparing for the next day. Also been getting some really hard news from home. I'm hoping the weather will close down my base for tomorrow so I can finish it up but no promises there.

Hope everything's been well for you!

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

NAME: ???
ALIAS(‘s): Darsby
STATUS: Living
SPECIES: Human?
GENDER: Male?
AGE: ???
HEIGHT: 5' 10"
WEIGHT: ???
BUILD: Lean-Lanky-Thin
RANK: ???
OCCUPATION: ???

BASIC PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: He's attenuated, pale, entirely covered in various ebony tribal tattoos up to and including the neck, numerous lengthy blade-born scars, and holds lean muscle in quantity's just thick enough to not look emaciated. His hair and eyes are generally a somewhat luminescent rose pink, the X scar just above his right eye is of the same color. Said scar is the only piece of tissue with such an oddity. Darsby's scars cut through his numerous tattoos as if having occurred after getting ink-work done.

BASIC PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION: He's most easily related to an apathetic college student during finals week who's will to live was lost after discovering their GPA is ruined due to failed exams.

BASIC ABILITY DESCRIPTION: He can hide his presence with alien cigarettes and teleport objects from one place to another, I guess? Maybe he can sense strange magics?

BASIC HISTORY DESCRIPTION: Unidscovered

PICTURE:

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

Oh the maddening puns!! And it's true.. she doesn't... thanks for reminding me. xD

Also, feel free to control whatever nearby NPC's you want past whatever was already said, or as long as my intention still somewhat gets across through whatever modified behavior you give them. I hope none of that post was confusing.

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

Darsby’s pink eyes faltered in their pronounced sharpness for that of only a few brief moments immediately after Anora asked her final question of ‘how..’. No matter the smallest movement, he’d been following her up to that point. She’d likely have felt unnerved a minute or two sooner by the nature in which his gaze tracked her motions. He’d be watching her breath, her heart, the fluttering of her eyes and twitch of her fingers long before she’d show any immediate of sign for change in whatever speakable direction one might imagine. Perhaps she’d think he looked in expectance towards her legs long before she’d decided to move towards or away from him. This all occurs beneath the half-shut monotony clasping both near-luminescent iris’s.

Perhaps it was some form of disgust that took hold of him. Regardless, whether or not Anora had caused this would be difficult to determine. He’d looked away and been lost in his thoughts for five consecutive seconds before looking back towards the girl then down to casually examine his left palm.

“Woman.. We have bigger problems.” Darsby would sigh, the cigarette never leaving his lips during speech, talking while smoking being obvious habit as it bounces by each syllable. His left hand clenches just before another *Snap!*. The compact revolver Anora had seen in the ambulance before fabricates within his trained grasp. It’s make is simple, wooden hilt alongside a grey, metallic finish. His eyes now raise towards the door, this being made obvious by their small tracking movements not having touched every twitch of her body.

Darsby’s weak legs carry him towards the exit, his body and eyes ignoring the girl regardless as to her being in the way of said threshold. Should she try to stop him in departing, or neglect to move from his path, he’d stumble to the side in a motion that would appear clumsy and drunken, but, would prove to be impossible to grasp or halt. One could think his slightest movements were all predestined by precise thought, projected through a body that can hardly keep up to properly showcase elegance.

Once having exited, he’d disperse another plume of smoke. Oddly enough, not a nurse nor doctor notices the man. Perhaps Anora is truly the only one able to pay any mind to his lower cheeks being in the wind behind an ill-fitted garb…

After two or three seconds of Darsby looking back and forth down either hall, he’d begin heading towards the ER lobby. While treading ground for more than just a few short steps his overall injury would still bear it’s dulled fangs. A slight limp plagues his right leg, his shoulders tremble following each breath, his left hand remains loose in it’s trained grasp of aforementioned weaponry whilst his right curls tightly into bare skin, whitening his knuckles in a sign of obvious pain.

Darsby’s attentions were obviously directed towards some other concerning circumstance. Anora could guess she wasn’t his gravest concern, by this, she could likely take comfort despite whatever intentions he might hold. Should Anora not follow him, he’d look back down the hall to give an exasperated gesture for her to follow just before he moves to push swinging doors open into the lobby where our heroine had previously held tightly to somewhat misled worryment. Should she follow him, he’d blatantly ignore what she might be saying to him as he had done in the room with all of her initial responses to him standing and using magic.

Behind Darsby rests an ageless river of spiraling artistry born of his lessening cancer stick and dry lips. This grey haze continues to develop it’s elegant and ever-deepening designs rather than fading from view or vanishing into nothingness no matter how thin it may be spread. None pay it any mind, extinguishing it’s existence from their perception just as they do with him. This effect did not spread to Anora, so whatever she may say or attempt to do to him would seem rather queer to those around her. Arousing enough suspicion may attract the wrong kind of health-centered provision.

Upon entering the lobby, using whatever drunken movements Darsby may have exhibited before to avoid general people and Anora, he’d look in each of the four compass directions. Found there is an old couple, two distressed teenagers impatiently shuffling about between feverish chatting, and one bright young nurse behind an aged reception desk.

“‘If only I could look beneath these fat feet of mine…’-” Darsby would quietly say to himself initially, as if quoting someone else. Darsby regularly speaks like an exhausted college student who’s given up on life in general after discovering their final exam will ruin their gpa and educational career in one fel swoop.

Alongside another aggravated grunt, and while laxadly scratching the lower left side of his scalp with the hilt of his loaded revolver, he’d speak to Anora. This is, of course, assuming she followed him to the lobby. He’d begin talking regardless as to whether or not she was already speaking, and, if she was, he’d have cut her short on purpose. All words spoken are projected whilst he’s fixated on the nearest exit, that being the entrance to whatever ambulance may be arriving with newfound patients. The entrance his body was first carted through. An expression of slight confusion has painted itself unnaturally over Darsby’s posture.

“So… You’ve never seen anyone else who can use ‘magic’?-” Darsby’s free hand raises to add sarcastic quotations to the word ‘magic’. His eyes still fixated on the door.
“-Because, like, if you haven’t then I assume you’ve lived in a place like… ‘this’ most of your life?-” For this remark he’d gesture towards nearby civilians and the building at large as if society as a whole were at fault for whatever condition may be plaguing Anora. His left hand ceases scratching and falls back to his side.
“-So, if, uhm, I’m taking all that into account. Then I’m gonna need to warn you of a few rules you should probably acknowledge.-” His overall air of narcissistic sarcasm would likely be driven to a point after the first sentence or two.
“One.-” He raises his free hand to jab one finger into the air. “-Don’t look into the blue things.-” He sighs between vapid blinks whilst raising a second finger, as if his issues were further deepening.
“-Two. Don’t be afraid to kick some ass, they’re armed… So to speak..-” His shouldersperform an under-enthused shrug at that last statement, as if it weren’t pertinent to him.
“-And, three. I’ll be working on a way out of here. So if you could find it in your head to think of at least one or two methods to not get in my way, I’d appreciate it.” At that he let his right hand drop just before it raises again to rub his temples as it seems to often be tasked with.

The doors had at this point ceased shaking against moderate winds, in fact, all exits to the outside end movement or trembling of any kind. One might think this building alone had been separated from the outside world via an invisible field of some kind. Locks might not have clicked, but, everyone in the hospital would soon enough find that leaving is an impossibility. Darsby steps forward, limping up until he reaches said door, softly placing one pale hand upon a still surface. He sighs before closing either eye, letting his head fall against its exterior with a gentle *thud..*.

*Bang!-Thud-thud..-bang..-* For several moments the successive thuds and bangs of windows in varying sizes can be heard shutting by excessive force down the halls. It wouldn’t be too long before people partly realize what’s transpiring. This isn’t to mention an ambulance is only two minutes out with another patient and Darsby likely isn’t going to move from his current position for roughly another forty seconds as he silently deliberates over whatever it is his exasperated mind may be contemplating.

From Deep within the hospital, likely in another ward, someone masculine can be heard screaming. Their shouts are shrill and inconsistent, this isn’t pain they’re expressing, it’s life-threatening fear. Everyone aside from Darsby shoots up at the echoing cry, their separate minds already set to attention by the bangs and thuds only moments before. *Thud.* Darsby gently hits his head against the door he’s found himself practically leaning up against just after this event.

The power looks to go out, emergency red light plaguing this particular set of rooms and corridors. Through a nearby window, across one shabby courtyard, another ward can be seen to have fully-powered pale luminescence pasting their chipped wallpaper. What’s different about the ER? *Thud!* Darsby hits his head against the door once more, forty seconds nearly coming to a close as the screaming ends abruptly and panicked murmurs permeate the air.

“Alright, I’m gonna need everyone to stay calm. I’ll be here to look after ya’ll while my partner goes to turn the power back on.” Two police officers on standby have entered the lobby from the ER’s patient-care section and stepped into trained action. One brown haired female possessing a southern accent, the one who’d announced their presence, stays behind whilst her caucasian male partner leaves the lobby.
“Are you okay, hun?” She’d gently prod Anora from a distance as she was the immediately closest. She’d soon move on to everyone else after acquiring a reassuring response.

Darsby remains in his current place until the allotted time ends, muttering curses and something about an ‘idiot teacher’ all the while.

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

I really appreciate your understanding, it makes this so much easier. I'd be pretty stressed if I wasn't aware that you had patience for this lol.

I don't think you have much to worry about on the 'hitting people with car' front.... I think xD
By this point, it's early afternoon.

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

Sorry that took ages!! Got caught up in life and a little bit of diving into Darsby's past/planning what might happen next. Anora might still get a bit of hectic adventure in her day ;D

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

“Lucky.” The response of an openly perturbed man.

His frustration isn’t aimed towards Anora. Those sunken eyes hold within them many years of prolonged exhaustion, worn to near-comfort atop an exasperated expression. Should one guess he was always upset over one thing or another, they wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

A thin hand rose from alabaster sheets to stroke callous temples. Our man's arm, which was visibly shattered not hours ago, appears to be without splint or scar of any kind. In fact, his entire body looks of good health. His hips and shoulders twist in allowing him to clumsily exit the bed from the left side. Both legs tremble for the first few moments of upright posture, that attenuated body having held only slight preparation for average physical activity.

“You, girl, will be calling me Dorsby.” Though Anora had uttered her name, the one they call Dorsby shows neglect in putting it to memory.

Dorsby stumbles forward, his eyes having left the woman before him to pace aggressively across surrounding space as if in search of something valuable. Perhaps he wasn’t specifically angered by present circumstance, he’d look to live in a constant state of naturally demanding fatigue.

Once having entered the open space just beyond the foot of his bed, Dorsby stops abruptly. One hand moves to massage the lower area of his back whilst his upper body stretches backwards in one jagged motion full of sighs and pained groans. *Pop-pop-POP!* An out-of-place spinal column is realigned with such intonations as to make someone several yards away flinch in surprise.

“We’ve got a few things to speak about.” He’d remark casually whilst smacking his lips between deliberate blinks. Anora could guess Dorsby just woke from an uncomfortable nap with a severe headache had she not seen him near-death moments before.

Dorsby’s left hand extends into open air by practiced movement, snapping lithe fingers together Prior to elaborating on his statement. *Snap!* A little, rectangular box materializes from apparent nothingness within said palm. *Snap!* With another click of pallid fingers a metallic rod emerges from oblivion inside his unused right hand. From a small, dark porthole of a box that's colored green and plastered in vibrant designs is drawn one hand-rolled cigarette. Dorsby then taps aforementioned metallic rod against his wrist just after placing the ‘cigarette’ between his lips. A small flame alights at the tip of the metal rod, and, in one smooth motion he lights the cigarette, snaps his fingers, and inhales a haze of grey as all aforementioned items aside from the now lit rod vanish from sight.

“Look-..” Dorsby pauses, withdrawing his cancer stick to exhale a first cloud of grey. His free hand rises to rub the bridge between his eyes in smooth circular motions for several brief moments, that smooth face lined by the deep ridges of a grimace. “..-I’ll start by asking, do you know anyone by the name of Pahn, Greed, or Zahllster?” He then places his smoldering cigarette to rest against chapped lips whilst either arm laces into one another. His posture isn’t aggressive, though one shouldn’t say it doesn’t look impatient with those tone arms crossed over an apron-coated chest.

The smoke emanating from Dorsby’s mouth doesn’t act or smell as regular smoke does. It’s moved by an unseen and unfelt breeze, twisting in perfectly circular spirals. Several tendrils split and swirl to create whats looks as a multitude of impossibly perfect whirlpools above our disheveled man’s head. The edge of his cigarette doesn’t retain it’s ash to be dumped aside as other such products might, instead, the grey flakes detach and float into the ocean-like haze above. Smells likened to oak and fresh handfuls of dirt fill this room as not an employee nor fire-alarm is set off by aforementioned unearthly cloud. Whatever he has is far from earthly tobacco products, though, it doesn’t look to immediately affecting him in any way.

Darsby has a pinkish scar just above his right eye, forming an X which stretches nearly into his cheek. His hair, which once held human color, looks to be slowly changing into shaded hues of pink right in front of Anora’s eyes without any external influence.

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

Ok I'm back! Gonna try to get a post out by the end of tonight but no promises. I should definitely have one finished by tomorrow.
New York was incredible but the test I came back to was ridiculously tough an the whole class failed it lol. We'll see how everything turns out.

Hope your weekend/beginning-of-week was good! :D

My swimming instructors a dragon. [Mortim / Siaya Dragalorn]

Awesome! I'll be sure to share some of my thoughts here soon.
I understand the post frequency, I'll be going to New York for the weekend beginning tomorrow and have a big test coming up early next week so I may take a brief hiatus in post frequency. Hopefully I can get something out to you, assuming I'm able to finish anything over the next couple days. My apologies if no posts head your way in the near future.