Rekkuza — Roleplayer Guild

13 Mourningdove Lane - April 15th 00:07

The inside of the mansion was ominously dark. And then it wasn't, the lights flickering on. Mathias took his first steps inside, squinting as his eyes were suddenly forced to adapt to the brightness. He flinched slightly as the doors slammed behind him, the lights shutting off, before being lit back up. The constant contrast made his eyes hurt. Whoever he'd seen enter before him had clearly found the light switch.

"Esti... stop fucking with the lights!" he shouted into the corridor as he began walking forward, hopefully to where this so-called "Archivist" would be waiting.

The decor was certainly... a choice. A lot of old paintings and sculpture (including a half-broken bust, for some reason). Not his first choice, but if he were some old guy with way too much money, maybe he'd see the appeal. It all gave off a rather strange feel, but his irritation towards this whole situation overrode any sense of eeriness he might've otherwise picked up.

He could hear the door opening and closing behind him as he finally reached some kind of salon, or hall, or whatever rooms were called in rich people's homes. More people, then. If this was prank or something, it was an elaborate one. He squinted a bit at the silhouettes he could see. He couldn't make out much in the flickering light, but they looked young. He had to have a decade, or more, on most of them. Damn.

He picked at his fingernails restlessly as more and more people filed into the room. His eyes kept flickering towards the small ball of fire floating around one of the kids he'd seen enter. Lena, her name was. This... Burnie Cinders, she'd said it was called. It wasn't normal. Which, obviously, flying fire and all. Not to mention everyone here were presumably called because they had magic, too. But it was still the first real magic he'd seen ever since the emergence of his own, outside of a few online videos (which could have easily been faked for all he knew).

Where were they again? Right, introductions. Mathias figured that as the responsible adult here he at least owed his name. "I'm Mathias Lefebvre. But just call me Matt, I'm not exactly in the mood to hear you all butcher the pronunciation." He huffed a bit, as if recalling past frustrating experiences. "Before you ask, no, I'm not a local. As for my 'power'..."

He stopped all at once, freezing in place, his eyes wide open. His earlier fidgeting gave way to an eerie stillness as he felt the hair on the back of his neck raise.

He didn't know what set him off. Maybe it was a scent in the air, a small noise unheard by others, or simply the beastly instincts that seemed to have sunk their claws into him lately. All he knew was that

SOMEONE IS WATCHING

A low growl built in the back of his throat. His head remained unmoving, but his eyes darted all over the room, trying to find the threat intruder. He finally picked up a dark silhouette by one of the windows. His head snapped to it, staring straight at it. He had to fight the urge to arm himself, to show his claws and fangs. Better not show his hand too early if this person truly was dangerous.

"What... are you doing over there?" he instead hissed, projecting his voice to the silhouette. "Show yourself."
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Young of Body, Old of Soul

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