Riven Wight

Through the Doors of our hearts - Finished

Ryker frowned at Alexander’s formal stance. Once more, he found himself wondering exactly how tight of a leash Elanor West kept on her students. Though, he was sure he saw approval in the quick glance Karl spared the other boy.
Ryker flinched at the sound of his name coming from a boy around his age. He opened his mouth to instinctively correct the name to one of his favored nicknames. A sharp warning glance from his mother made him shut it with a scowl, his eyes shifting closer to a deep emerald.
“Hey,” he grumbled instead as Alexander looked him over. “So I gathered,” he interrupted with a smirk when the boy introduced himself, gaining a glower from Donna. This time, he ignored her.
When Alexander bid him to follow, Ryker sighed. His head tilted for a moment, noticing something slightly off with the way the boy headed toward the door. His steps were too… deliberate. Forced.
He started up the couple steps to the porch.
“Ryker!” Donna gripped his arm, forcing him to a stop. “Hoodie!”
Ryker’s nose scrunched in a snarl, and for a split second, his gaze shifted to so dark a green they looked nearly black.
The woman startled slightly, but her hard gaze did not relent.
“Fine,” he growled, wrenching from her grasp as Alexander disappeared inside. He turned from her. Taking a deep breath to push down the anger that had risen, he shrugged into his hoodie for show.
The soft fabric still felt strange on his weathered skin. Not bothering to zip it up, he stepped after Alexander. Light on his feet, he easily caught up with the other boy. He cast a quick glance behind him toward the door, making sure he was out of eyeshot, then quickly removed his hoodie. He rolled his eyes—already a couple shades lighter—at the ridiculousness of their resolve for him to wear a shirt. He held it once more by its hood and draped it over his shoulder.
An extra sense of ease settled over him. Though forced indoors, at least he no longer had to put up with his parents. The number of filters he had to use had greatly diminished. An extra lightness entered his steps, and the tension that had built up in his shoulders released at the prospect.
He followed Alexander silently, taking in his new surroundings. The place seemed suspiciously quiet for a school for difficult cases. All the same, Ryker ascended the stairs only a couple paces behind his new roommate.
On the first landing, Ryker’s attention turned fully to Alexander. He eyed the boy curiously as he leaned against the railing and heaved a sigh that changed his entire stance. A relieved grin pulled at Ryker’s face; it had been an act.
His eyes lightened as the next words out of Alexander’s mouth fully confirmed that suspicion. But the rest of his statement tinted Ryker’s joy with confusion.
He glanced back in the direction of the door. “I did get out of the car with ’em, didn’t I?” He shrugged, misunderstanding the statement. “But none taken. Can’t stand ’em, either. So, what’s the deal with Ms. Heatstroke?” He jerked his head toward the door, indicating the ill-dressed Elanor. He may as well take the opportunity to get to know who he was dealing with. “She as stuffy as she dresses?”

Through the Doors of our hearts - Finished

Sorry, guys! Ended up being a busy (and free-time lazy) week/weekend. Will work on a reply either tonight or tomorrow!

@Kirah Sure! I'm off and on a lot at the moment, but as a suggestion, maybe get it started so it's there, then we can figure out a time when we're both on?

@Saltwater ThiefAlrihty! Want to perhaps see how it goes at the moment, and if it ends up resulting in extremely short posts, do a collab?

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

Sorry for the wait! That was a lot to respond to. xD

Let me know if I need to change anything, or overlooked/misunderstood any details! I assumed you intended for the older couple and pair of teens to look related. I don't write for others' important-sounding NPCs, but the simple passing mention of everyone in the waiting room made them seem "safe" to add the reactions to, like they're more fillers or extras than characters that you need. Let me know if I was wrong, though! The edit button is a wonderful thing.

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

Noticing exactly how closely the man had been watching her beneath his half-lidded eyes, Anora took another slight step back in experimentation. His gaze seemed to follow her a millisecond before she actually moved.
Anora stared at him curiously when he looked away. In the short few seconds, she reminded herself that perhaps not all people with powers were good.
She scowled when he looked back to her and addressed her as ‘woman.’ “Nora,” she reminded him. “And what ‘bigger prob—’”
Her question cut off when he snapped his fingers a gun she recognized from the ambulance appeared in his hand.
She gasped through her nose, her heart beating faster in her chest. In her panic that he planned on using it on her, she pulled her thumbs from her pockets and raised her hands defensively. The electric purple mist sparked to life at her fists, ready to form a barrier or strike out if Darsby so much as twitched to point the revolver at her.
Instead, his gaze shifted to the door. Her head twitched slightly in the direction he looked, but she did not take her eyes from him. He stepped toward her, and the swirling mist curled down her arms. But whatever he was after, it was not her. He paid her no mind, heading instead to the door.
The relief that she was not his target was short lived. After all, he was after something.
“Nuh uh! You're not going anywhere!” She reached to grab his arm, to stop him from leaving the room with what she assumed was a loaded gun. But he stumbled and wriggled away from her grasp. She staggered and her hand closed on empty air.
“Hey!” she called after him, righting herself as he left the room.
For a man with a limp, he moved rather swiftly. She exhaled in a half snort, half growl. Whoever—or whatever, she supposed—he was, she could not let him wander about unchecked. Who knew what kind of damage he could do?
Anora let her powers extinguish at her hands, then hurried after him. She turned down the hall to follow it back toward the waiting room.
“Hey!” she shouted again, gaining the attention of a few workers mulling behind a nurse’s station.
“I said, you’re not going anywhere!” She reached to grab him again, but, once more, his body moved awkwardly and out of her reach.
Ignoring the others around her, each blind to the appearance of her powers, she extended a palm toward him. The familiar mist of her powers grew around her hand, directed by her thoughts. A sparking coil of gold and violet dripped from her palm and slithered across the floor, shooting toward Darsby to wrap around his legs and force him to a stop. If not for the sake of whoever he intended to use the gun on, then for his own before he did more damage to his still wounded body.
She shouted and turned when a male nurse dressed in blue scrubs placed a hand on her shoulder. Her coil burst into a series of harmless sparks millimeters before it reached its target, then disappeared.
“Is everything okay, ma’am?” the nurse asked, his voice higher-pitched than she would have expected from someone of his girth.
She gave him a look that asked, ‘Are you serious?’ She looked after Darsby once more.
Her brows furrowed as she realized the only person the other nurses were looking at, was her. She took a deep breath as that fully sunk it. She was the only one who could see the man and the trail of smoke he left in his wake.
Anora looked back into the hospital room, almost expecting to see a patient still in bed and find that she was hallucinating. But the bed was empty, a thin blanket crumpled at its foot.
She snorted and a smile quirked the corner of her lips as she looked back down the hall. Somehow, he was shielding himself from the hospital staff.
“Yep, everything’s fine,” she offered the nurse rather unconvincingly. “My mistake.”
Well ahead of her by now, Darsby paused just long enough to gesture for her to follow him.
“Gotta go.” Anora adjusted her backpack and hurried after Darsby. She glanced up, taking in the intricate patterns of smoke that lapped at the ceiling, refusing to obey the laws of physics and dissipate.
The door had already closed behind Darsby by the time she caught up with him. Once she had opened it and stepped through, she looked around frantically for him. She spotted him not far from the door. She reached behind her to one of the side pockets in her backpack and pulled out her phone as she hurried over to him. Pretending to call someone on the device as a cover for talking to no one, she stood in front of him.
“Look. You’re still hurt!” she scolded him, holding the phone to her ear. “You need to—”
Darsby cut her off, making her scowl. The expression deepened when he added quotations to the word she had used.
“I was born here, thank you very much,” she growled to his second statement. The tone he used only irked her that much more.
Remembering the gun, she glanced to it nervously. There was no telling what could trigger him to use it. She had no idea what kind of mental state he was in. She looked back to his face as he continued speaking.
“Blue things?” she asked dubiously. “What ‘blue things?’”
Instead of answering, he continued with his count. Her lips pursed with an irritated snort. Though she wondered who ‘they’ were, she did not bother to waste her breath with the question.
Her eyes narrowed at his last statement. “There’s always the front door,” she offered flatly as Darsby rubbed his temples. “But you’re still hurt. And barely dressed.” Her eyebrows rose at the last.
The unusual statement gained a curious glance from the nearest of the two teenagers in the waiting room. A girl with short curly hair, she stared at Anora for a moment. The boy she was with, who looked like he could be her brother, regained her attention, engaging her in another round of distraught discussion.
Anora offered the teenagers little more than a quick glance to make sure they would not be a problem. She gave an irritated huff when Darsby defiantly went to the doors she had used to enter through. She followed slowly, trying to make the action look natural as she told the emptiness on the other end of her phone that she could wait.
As he neared, she glanced from him to the doors. Her brows furrowed, noticing their unusual stillness. She glanced around, suddenly aware of exactly how quiet it had become. Though the chatter of the teens still periodically filled the air, noises from the outside—sounds she had paid little mind to until they were gone—had fallen dormant.
A soft thud made her attention snap back to Darsby when he thunked his head on the door.
That… should have opened. At least a little. She shifted her weight uneasily, but she did not have time to dwell on the thought.
She shouted and spun around to face the rest of the hospital as a series of slams and bangs filled the halls. The woman at the reception desk jumped to her feet, and other hospital staff started rushing about frantically, trying to find the source of the uproar. The teenagers grew more frantic and stepped closer to the elderly couple. The elderly woman's eyes widened, and the man placed a hand on hers reassuringly despite his own surprise.
Anora inhaled when, though faint, a man began screaming from deeper in the hospital.
“Whatever you’re doing—” she hissed at Darsby, pausing when the lights flickered once, then went out. “Stop it!”
The teenage girl shouted in surprise in the short moment of darkness before the backup generators kicked on. The eerie red glow of the emergency lights filled the halls. Despite having some form of light again, tension hung amidst the unnerved quiet that had settled in the waiting room.
She glanced over when two police officers appeared and addressed the few people there.
“Yeah, fine,” she answered the officer when the woman addressed her in her Southern drawl. “Thanks.”
Anora watched, relieved, when the officer went to check on the others. Making sure no one was paying her any attention, she looked back to Darsby.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Confusion, agitation, and unease mingled in her eyes. She reached for his shoulder to force him from the door and to look at her. “And [i]how[i] are you doing it?” she could not help but add.
She cast another quick glance over her shoulder to make sure she was not being watched. The dimness of the lights made shadows cling to corners and people, and bathed everything in an unnerving shade of crimson.

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

Of course! Though reality's overrated, it regrettably comes first. xD

Especially since she doesn't have her car right now. ;-)

Great! Good to know we're on the same page. Crappy, cliché pun intended.

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

“That’s one way to put it.” Anora took another cautious step toward him and away from the doorway to get a better look at him, trying to gauge exactly how angry he was. Looking at him closer, she realized it wasn’t directed exactly—or just—at her.
She watched as the man raised an arm, her gaze following it. The image of it broken and bloody flashed through her mind. She clenched her teeth and her eyes flicked to the side for a second. She swallowed, trying to dispel the image.
She looked back to him as he moved to get up. She took another quick step toward him when he stood shakily, ready to help him if his legs gave out. She stood near him, watching, waiting, but he managed to stay on his feet.
Her brows rose when, instead of an introduction, he demanded she call him Dorsby. He did not even bother to use her name. “Want me to add ‘His Majesty’ before that?” she asked lightly, crossing her arms.
All the same, she watched him worriedly as he stumbled forward. “Maybe you shouldn’t be standing yet,” she suggested, watching him as he searched the room for something. He shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone standing, she added silently. “I mean. You just… well. You know.” She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, then cleared her throat.
She cringed when he stopped to pop his back, the unnerving, unnatural sound making an empathetic ache and a shudder run down her own spine.
Who is this guy? she wondered yet again that day as he straightened. She shook her head in disbelief at his condition.
“Yeah, I’d say we have more than just a few things to talk about.” As glad as she was that she had not killed him, she needed answers. Answers about how he had recovered so quickly.
She watched him curiously when he lifted his hand in front of him. She took a cautious step back. The tingle of her powers licked at her skin in preparation for use in her uncertainty about him. But he only snapped his fingers.
But it was more than that. With that simple action, he had summoned two objects that had definitely not been there before. He had confirmed, at least in part, one of her two suspicions about his condition.
“You have magic!” she exclaimed as he withdrew a cigarette from the box. Her voice echoed in the room a bit louder than she had intended, and she almost felt like laughing. She closed another step’s worth of space between them in her exuberance.
At last, she had found someone else with powers. Though she would have preferred a method of discovery that did not include hitting him with her car, her eyes lit up with excitement. Her years of hoping she was not alone had, at last, paid off.
He excitement faltered when a new thought entered her mind as the unusual smoke rose from the man’s cigarette. He was openly using his magic in front of her. Which meant either he knew she had abilities of her own, did not care who saw him use magic, or he did not intend to let her spread the word.
She took a step back, looking him over with a new frame of mind. He did not appear ready to attack, but she remained watchful, nonetheless. She met his gaze when he spoke again.
Her brows furrowed at the strange names he asked her about.
“Only if you count Peter Pan.” She uncrossed her arms and placed her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans. She tried to look relaxed, but suspicion rested in her purple eyes.
She looked to the smoke, watching its uncharacteristic movements. She gawked as she noticed the ash rising instead of falling from the cherry. Was he trying to show off, or just that uncaring about who might walk in and notice?
What in the world is he even smoking? she wondered as the woodsy scent of the smoke filled her nostrils. She glanced to the doorway, wondering if anyone would smell it and come investigate.
“Who are you?” she asked, a tinge of awe in her voice as his hair changed to various shades of pink. “How are you…?” She gestured to the spiraling smoke as it danced in its own private breeze and swirled at the tiled ceiling.

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

Don't worry about it! Really. When it comes to this kind of thing, I can be patient. Eagerly anticipating the next post, but patiently waiting for you to have the time and inspiration for it!

Awesome. I'm sure Anora will appreciate a deviation from the norm. Especially if it doesn't involve hitting anyone with her car. xD

By the way, RP time-wise, what time is it? I have it in my head that it's early afternoon, but figured I should check.

Through the Doors of our hearts - Finished

@Kirah: That's a nasty cough you have there. *Hands you a handkerchief with a heart embroidered in the center, surrounded by, "Sorry! I love you!"*

@kittyluna45: Can't go wrong with the Dancing Dragon! Or The Last Airbender, for that matter.

@Saltwater Thief: I think I read somewhere that they're releasing blu-rays of it sometime this year. For all I know, though, it could already be out.

Through the Doors of our hearts - Finished

The Porter family’s attention turned to the porch of the house when the door opened and a woman stepped out. Donna put on a practiced smile in greeting as Karl grabbed Ryker’s suitcase and wheeled it down the sidewalk toward the home.
Ryker sighed and followed in his parents’ shadows. He looked between them at the woman. His brows rose slightly at her attire, and he wondered how she was not melting from sweat beneath her overcoat.
This is going to be interesting, he thought with a slight smirk, trying to decide how stern of she would be, and how hard her buttons could be pushed.
“Of course!” Donna answered cheerily, ascending the steps to the porch. “Thank you for accepting him into your school at such short notice.”
Ryker hung back where the walk met the porch, avoiding the shadow of the house for as long as possible. Noticing the sign hanging above the porch, his brows rose further.
‘No quests?’ He took a step back to get a better look at the sign. What’s that supposed to mean?
Deciding he could figure that out later, he shook his head and looked to the boy who had followed the woman outside, a section of his hair presumably dyed blue. He glanced to the woman when she addressed the boy as Alexander.
He sighed at the prospect of seeing what was to be his room. He had already spent too much time cooped up in the car. Though he hoped the room would be larger than that cramped space, walls were walls no matter what form they took.
“You must be Ms. West, I presume?” Karl released the suitcase handle and offered the woman a hand to shake.

Shackles of Revenge

No problem! And I look forward to whenever you get the chance to write and post it. I'm here if you need anything else between now and then!

Oh my. Good luck keeping them straight!