Description

Lilian Grant Piervencenti °The Cave - Mumford and Sons°

❂Name❂ || "It's pronounced 'peer-vin-chen-tee'."
Lilian Grant Piervencenti.

❂Nicknames❂ || "Lilian or just Lily is fine."
She just goes by her first name, Lilian, and subsequently by Lily. She hopes to one day make friends legitimately enough that they'll give her a nickname that isn't just a shortening of her first name.

❂Role❂ || "Like what, in life?"
Found Female #1.

❂Age❂ || "Nearly two decades. Joy."
Nineteen.

❂Gender❂ || ”Gotta keep it homogametic."
Female.

❂Sexuality & Marital Status❂ || "I guess I could fall in love with anybody, really. Not that that will ever happen."
Pansexual and single.

General Appearance °Angry Hill - George Ezra°

Face Claim: Brie Larson.

❂Hair Color❂ || "Please spare me the stupid fucking jokes."
Blonde.

❂Eye Color❂ || "Pretty underwhelming, actually."
Light brown.

❂Height & Weight❂ || "Yep."
170 cm and 58 kg.

❂Ethnicity❂ || "Je crois que qu'il y a un peu de Anglais trop."
French.

❂Distinct Marking or Scars❂ || "Call me Achilles."
Lilian has a small birthmark on her right heel.

❂Species❂ || "I don't think whatever this is changes my human classification."
Human.

General Information °Yellow Light - Of Monsters And Men°

❂Personality❂ || "Deal with it."
Lilian is very much a cynic, and as a result of this, is also extremely introverted. Events in the developmental stage of her life enabled her to grow up believing that whatever bad can happen will happen. Murphy's law might as well be her mantra. Because of her cynicism, she is cautious with interpersonal reactions, fearing the primrose path, something that looks good but will eventually lead to destruction. So, instead, she tends to stick to herself rather than engage in any group activities.

That isn't to say that she wouldn't like any friends, she's just skeptical she'd be able to make any without the help of her ability, but using her ability to make 'friends' feels less than genuine and ultimately makes her feel like shit and even more unworthy of the actual thing. She can't help her manipulative behavior sometimes and that causes inner turmoil. It wasn't long ago that she decided she may as well swallow the bitter pill and accept that she would be going it alone the rest of her life.

❂Power❂ || "It's not something I'm necessarily proud of."
Hormone manipulation is a variant of body manipulation, and allows her to freely control and manipulate her own hormones and the hormones of others. Although she mainly targets the hormone Vasopressin, which causes those around her to feel more productive and overall protective of her, as well acts as a natural painkiller for light wounds and things like headaches, she also can target other hormones to induce sleep or desired emotional responses, and even cause somebody to be more open to suggestion or induce sexual arousal and pleasure in others. This is, of course, limited by how stable of an emotional state she is in herself. Although, she has begun to use her power less and less because she doesn't enjoy how much of a betrayal it feels like.

Useful Facts °Intro - The xx°

❂History❂ ||

Lilian was born to an American mother and a French father in a small hillside town called Vézénobres, located in the central Languedoc region of France. Her mother was an art major taking time off from schooling to paint abroad, and her father was a resident fig harvester. They had met at the chateau de la Condamine, a small family castle that had been in that area since 1804. Their love happened like any other, and in the heat of their passion, Lilian was conceived. Her mother stayed in France so Lilian would be raised by both of her parents, causing her father to work two jobs and her mother to sell many of her paintings in order for them to support themselves.

It is known that infants produce a pheromone that allows them to bond with their mother on a chemical scale, triggering the maternal instinct. This bond is said to be a life-long tie, but definitely becomes less prevalent as the child grows older. Only Lillian's hormonal control remained strong, and effected not only her parents, but anybody else around her. It wasn't something she could control as she grew up, and the effects she had on people were attributed to her personality. As a product of two nationalities, she naturally caught on to French as her first language, being more immersed in it, but she was also taught English by her mother as she was growing up.

It wasn't until Lilian hit the age of twelve that she realized that she could make people do things that they normally wouldn't feel entitled to do. Realizing the potential of this, she tried to stretch it as far as she could, using this ability to persuade her parents to buy her things and her friends to give her things. This behavior carried on for a while, until she one day wondered if it was something she could turn off. And so she tried to turn it off and she did. The results were less than desired. The friends that she normally hung out with expressed no desire to be friends with her anymore, claiming that they never liked her to begin with. This upset her, and instead of trying to reconcile with the other children, she chose to go home.

That night at dinner, her mother announced solemnly that she was leaving. She told Lillian and her father that she never wanted to have Lily in the first place, and that she was going back to America to 'reclaim her youth' and 'once again follow her dreams'. Her father, clearly distraught, tried to fight her about it, resulting in Lilian eventually falling asleep to the sounds of her parents arguing for the first time. When she woke up, there was no sign of her mother.

Her father continued to work two jobs to support them, but it was a struggle without the additional source of income they were used to having. Her father had also turned to the bottle since her mother had left, gradually becoming an alcoholic and eventually losing not just one job, but both of them. Lily got a part time job herself to balance with school work just so she could put food on the table, and often came home to her father passed out drunk.

There were times where it would seem he had sobered, and he would promise her such grandiose things. He'd say he would get better and take them to some other place, somewhere new. He'd promise her gifts and happiness, but the next day he'd just be drunk again. Eventually, Lilian stopped believing him. Eventually she stopped believing anything anybody told her. It was around this time that the Haven approached her.

She refused the first couple of advances, skeptical, and stubborn about remaining home to take care of what had once been her father. Until one night, she returned to find her father in a drunken fit of rage. He screamed things at her, blamed her for her mother leaving and said that everything that had happened had been her fault. She tried to user her power to calm him, but it wasn't enough, and he had hit her, knocking her to the ground. "Sans valeur!" he had screamed at her, as she sat on the ground holding her face. Worthless.

And so she left.

❂Notes❂ ||

Lilian speaks French and is mostly fluent in English as well, though sometimes an accent will shine through. Due to her introverted nature, she enjoys things that help her escape from reality, such as reading and writing. She also paints, often surrealist landscapes. Character relations will be edited into here as the roleplay progresses.

Lilian Grant Piervencenti °The Cave - Mumford and Sons°

It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's land

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So begins...

Lily Piervencenti's Story

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#2014-11-09 05:46:31, as written by AmeliaIsGhostly

" It would be hard to trust the girl who seemed as if she were Alice in wonderland herself."
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...

"No idea, I try not to keep tabs on everyone. I think Wilhelm went to say hello however" spoke Aliya, perking up the slightly tired Ismay.

"I see." She mumbled, slinking back deeper into the comfy floofed up couch. Ismay idly twiddle her fingers, thinking of what to say, or rather what to do. She really didn't want to seem nosy as to go find the three, intruding on whatever the hell they were really doing. But she had a natural curiosity about her, so it was hard for her not to find them and see how everything was going, especially considering the recent streak of some of the house mates not getting along. That however, should really be none of her business. She always tried too hard to be a peace keeper. Another reason she most often didn't show of her true nature of curiosity was that everyone in the home knew of her power, the exception currently being Simon and Skylar, and she really didn't like to seem as if she was being invasive most of the time. It would be hard to trust the girl who seemed as if she were Alice in wonderland herself. Trying to find where people were- well, it seemed a bit invasive. At least to her it did. So, deciding to cross of that venture of her list, she went and continued on to the next thought in her head,

Where the hell is Lily?

Arising from the seat, without as so much of a peep as she often never gave, she vamoosed out of the room, off to go find the blonde headed girl. She figured she would most likely still be in her room, fast asleep. Despite not really wanting to wake her up, it would be alright enough just to tap on the door and inform her that the new arrivals were in the house, as not to give her a shock if she walked around and happened to wander right to them, without even a clue as to who they where. Approaching her door, Ismay tapped lightly on it, but hard enough that the small knock it gave off would stir the girl awake. Calling through the door, she said "Hey Lily, Simon and Skylar are here. Just thought I'd let you know." and dropped her hand, which had previously been resting softly on the white paint chipped door. Waiting a few seconds, to no reply, she left, going farther down the hall way. Opening up her door as to see if she were really in there would be most regrettably rude, so Ismay went to go do a single lap around the first floor, seeing if she were anywhere. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she heard the not so low hush of voices, coming from outside. The walls were already ridiculously thin in context, despite them being practically made of stone.

Walking out the door in which led to the outside terrace, her eyes caught hold of those who had been missing, Aaron seeming to have joined the three. Only issue was, it seemed as if Wilhelm really wasn't pleased that the blonde haired boy had approached. She could easily see the German boy getting mad, and she had a clear image as to what would happen next if his power caught control. She had only just caught the last section of there argument. Ismay preferred that the outside plants didn't turn to ash, so she decided to speak up, in the form of clearing her throat as if to catch just enough attention.

Turning to Aaron, she asked the boy, "Aaron, do you mind grabbing me some more Tylenol. It's in my side drawer, or there's some in the kitchen." This was an obvious gesture for an out for the boy. She didn't really knew what the hell had happened between them at this point, and she really wasn't going to ask. She just tried to separate them. She really didn't want the house to burn down. Glancing away from Aaron, and unto Wilhelm, she offered up a small smile, and asked him, "You okay? It helps to count your breaths and focus your attention to a single thing. That, or you could throw the flower pot to your left and break it. Just don't uh, throw it at a person." She laughed slightly, reaching hand instinctively to rub her back slightly, the scar on her right shoulder tingling from the memory of her angry foster parent who chucked a see green glass bottle at her. God was she bad at breaking tension.

Leaning against the outside wall, she dropped her hand, waiting for any sort of response. In the mean time, Ismay found herself creating an simple mind link with Kayden. "What in the bloody hell happened in the living room?" She questioned. She felt a little more free to talk to Kayden through that. She, however, only did it when it seemed important. Anyone else and she wouldn't even dare.

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#2014-11-11 04:28:37, as written by XShishioX

It was beginning to feel like today would test Kayden. Everyday was a little harder than the last, to be sure, when you bore a burden as heavy as Kayden's. However, that was why he and May had started their Haven, to ease their burdens. For some, their powers were freedom incarnate, they could do whatever they wanted, go wherever they wanted. Kayden's powers were a yoke, binding him to his shame, and holding him within the terror of their grasp. Kayden felt his head loll back against the top of the couch cushions as he listened to Aliya's response. His hands rose slowly, stopping only once they reached his face, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Though he appeared off in his own world, Kayden was listening. He always listened when people spoke, even if his attention was elsewhere. Kayden felt a smile curl his lips as Aliya spoke. She was kind to him, and never tried to push his buttons. While Kayden didn't mind the occasional jibe from Aaron, he truly appreciated Aliya's gentleness with him, if only because it catered so well to Kayden's near crippling shyness. "Well, it can always get worse. The day is still young. I think you did fine," she told him before thinking for a moment. Kayden felt his lips pull back across his teeth as his timid smile grew ever more courageous. "Thanks," he quipped in response, more chuckling than speaking. Aliya continued, and once more, Kayden listened. "Things will work themselves out, they just got here. Give them a few hours to calm down and not be so...on edge." She offered sagely. Kayden's hands found their way back down to his lap, and he lifted his head off the couch to gaze at Aliya. "You know, you're absolutely right. This place is a lot to take in, even when you're not being assaulted with conversation or things you didn't need to know, let alone spending, very nearly, a whole day on an airplane." Kayden said simply, allowing the wisdom in her words to end their short conversation. Not wanting to make things awkward, Kayden let his head loll back against the couch once more, and between himself and Aliya, a few moments of lax, comfortable, silence passed without the need to stuff them full of useless chatter.

As he sat, however, Kayden worries returned to him. Whispering madness in his ears the demons taunted Kayden. He'd shown them his power, for what, to scare them? To warn them? Not like it would do much good. If Kayden wanted to, he could obliterate everyone and everything that stood before him. His powers... no, his curse, was far too wicked to be redeemed with a simple warning. Even if that were enough to save them from Kayden, why should he care? Why should he be nice to them? Sure he'd wanted to save them, so they wouldn't end up like him, but were they really all that grateful? Simon had insulted him, and their home. Skylar looked like she wanted to strangle him if his dangerous powers got anywhere near her little brother, and the pair of them were less than enthusiastic about coming here in the first place. Was he really capable of redeeming himself like this? Would a life like his, stained red with blood, be capable of redemption? As his worries and fears plagued him, Kayden felt a lump of disgust harden in the pit of his stomach. What good was he doing here anyway? Sure he was keeping his dangerous powers away from innocent people, but was he doing these people any good? What if he hurt them? Shame crept into Kayden's blood, sending shivers of ice cold doubt racing up and down his spine.

Kayden needed to stop this, his powers reacted to his negativity. If he kept this up, he'd end up ruining more furniture. Just as Kayden was about to get up and return to his room, he stopped himself. His eyes snapped open and he arched his back, looking towards the sound of rustling clothes, and the gentle pattering of May's footsteps approaching him. Coming to stand next to Kayden, May gave a small smile, and Kayden felt his worries vanish. It was like they'd never existed. She seemed to be the only one who Kayden could feel this relaxed with. Maybe it was the deep bonds of friendship they shared, cultivated from the years they'd spent travelling together. Perhaps instead, it was the openness of their relationship. They each knew that they could always come to the other in times of trouble to find a listening ear, a crying shoulder, and a helping hand. It might have been those things, in fact, it was probably all of them, but Kayden knew it was more than just that. Kayden liked the others well enough, but he loved Ismay. He loved her like he imagined he might have loved a sister. Kayden trusted her, more than he'd ever trusted anyone else, and she trusted him just as much. They hadn't spent a very long time together, but they were perfectly comfortable with each other. Kayden knew that she would always have his back, and he knew she would always come to him whenever she needed help, no matter how trivial it seemed.

Trying his hardest to smile back, Kayden knew that she didn't by his ruse for even a second. She could read him like a book, and instantly noticed the feelings of guilt, and almost sickness, that hid in the smile on his face. “Hey Kay, are you alright?” She asked, concern washing over her face as it did at times. Kayden felt himself start to scowl. She did always like to hover over him. Kayden had learned to accept that about her though. After all, he was the first person she'd ever met who was special like her. He could only assume that she knew how fully he gave himself in to their relationship. He trusted her even more than she could trust herself, even more than Kayden trusted himself. Their bonds were different from the ones they'd shared with the others. It was complicated, and thinking about it made Kayden's head hurt. Replying to her question, Kayden shook his head no, but he smiled valiantly for her. "I showed Skylar and Simon my powers, like I do for all the newbies." Those few, simple words, were all Kayden said, but May knew better. She knew how much he hated his powers, how much he loathed using them. However, she also knew that his heart was so boundlessly compassionate, that he'd gladly sacrifice his own happiness to show the newcomers what they were dealing with. After all, better safe than sorry, no matter how much Kayden hated showing off. Fortunately, for Kayden anyway, she merely gave him that look and dropped the subject. Kayden scowled playfully, he knew she'd want to talk to him about it later. Changing the subject, which Kayden silently thanked her for, Ismay spoke up one again. “Where’d everyone go?” She questioned, directing her thoughts at both him and Aliya. As Aliya responded, May strode over to one of the many couches in the living room and sitting on the two seated couch, bringing her legs up with her as she hugged them to her chest. Kayden only nodded.

Just as soon as May got a chance to sit, she remembered Lily, another resident of the Haven, and got up from her spot to go find her. Kayden sighed, his eyes following after Ismay's bouncing hair as she practically skipped off in the direction of Lily's room. "When she gets like that, even just looking at her makes me feel tired." Kayden joked, though his tone was somewhat wistful. He remembered when it was just the two of them, and now, their house was full of May's not-so-willing children. She was barely older than most of these kids, yet somehow she ended up being everyone's mom, sometimes even Kyden's. The house simply wouldn't run if May left. Kayden couldn't keep it together if she tried. May's tireless efforts were the glue that held the Haven together. Kayden was simply here to protect them from the cruelty of the outside word. His role was one that could only be undertaken in the shadows cast off by May's eternal brightness. May was the mother of the Haven, but Kayden was its protector, soaking up all the negativity the house could possibly create, shielding it from the hatred of the human world, and unleashing his devastating abilities only if the situation called for his overwhelming power. Kayden couldn't help but sigh once more. The only thing he was any good for around here was the one thing he hated most about himself. Go figure.

The pregnant silence created by Ismay's departure only swelled in her absence, and though Kayden wasn't uncomfortable, he was far too lost in his thoughts, even he could tell that Aliya was getting bored. Just as he was about to make some attempt at conversation, Kayden stopped. Something had caught his ear. Even from the living room Kayden could hear Wilhelm's angry tones, laced so heavily with his native German accent. Kayden sighed, making to stand up, so as to go find May and defuse the situation. As he got up, he heard Aliya's snide remark. "Never a boring day here it seems," Aliya jested, and Kayden laughed. "You know, I find myself waiting for the quiet days, but they never seem to find us. Oh well," he lamented, only half joking. As Kayden made his way towards the racket, he watched May race out to the situation to confront it, and with that taken care of, Kayden went back to the living room to sit back down with Aliya.

Returning to his spot on the couch, Kayden shared what he'd learned with a quizzical Aliya, who Kayden only assumed was wondering why he'd come back so soon after leaving. "May was headed in that direction already," Kayden said simply. "We all know she's better at dealing with those kinds of situations than I am." Though it was a bit of a dig at himself, Kayden didn't mind. His sense of humor wouldn't exist without pitiful jokes made at his own expense. As he allowed himself to relax, he felt the familiar touch of Ismay's mind linking up with his own, and he smiled. He put both his pointer fingers on their respective temples and closed his eyes, the Haven's universal, "I'm talking with Ismay don't bug me right now," posture. Aliya would get what it meant, and Kayden resolved to tell her what he'd discussed with May afterwards.

The sensation of the link was pleasant for Kayden. He wasn't sure quite why, but it was probably just nostalgia. Kayden often looked back on the first time Ismay had shared her powers with him with a certain degree of fondness. It was the first time anyone had ever done anything like that for Kayden. Even more so, it was the first time anyone had ever reached out to Kayden with any degree of genuine friendship. When he really thought about it, Kayden had to guess that he really just liked feeling connected to May. When May was linked with him, Kayden knew that, in that moment, without a shadow of doubt, that he wasn't alone. At first it had scared Kayden. The connection wasn't jut an abstract concept, it was something he could interact with. Even worse, he'd seen what the mind link could do when May was angry. She'd used her power to put fully grown men on the ground in seconds, writhing in agony without her so much as lifting a finger. Kayden remembered a twisted sort of pride when he watched it happen for the first time. Nowadays, however, whenever May connected their minds, it usually just signaled that she wanted to have a private chat. In a house swiftly filling up with more and more people, it was almost the only way they could ever get time to themselves anymore.

"What in the bloody hell happened in the living room?" Ismay asked Kayden through the link, and Kayden sighed, both mentally and physically. "I only caught the butt end of it, but this is what I saw." When he'd finished explaining his thought process, Kayden concentrated on his memories of the altercations that took place in the Kitchen and Living Room. He was sure it wasn't the full picture, but it was better than nothing. Having collected his memories, Kayden simply sent them across the link, for Ismay to view. She'd get a much better understanding from watching Kayden's memories than from what Kayden could explain with words. "Thing is, I can get why the siblings are grumpy with Aaron, but I'm not sure what's put Willy's knickers in a twist." Kayden explained across the link. "You'll probably have to ask him or Aaron about it." As Kayden finished his explanation, he kept half of his attention on the link, but opened his eyes and smirked at Aliya. "Sorry," Kayden began. "The wife's wondering why the kids are fighting..." Kayden joked, finishing somewhat lamely, and donning an expression as if he couldn't tell if he was trying to make a joke or not.

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#2014-11-13 21:09:58, as written by Kilgannon

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L I L I A NxP I E R V E N C E N T I

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Lilian had indeed been in her room, but the knock and following statement went unheard by her, as she was, at the time, too burrowed in the works of one Mr. William S. Burroughs to pay any mind. The novel in question was titled 'Naked Lunch', a non-linear narrative that chronicled the journey of a junkie, under his many aliases, through several countries. It was written in Paris, and published in July of 1959, and was perhaps one of Lily's favorite novels. It would have been the favorite, but that spot belonged to H.G. Wells' The Invisible Man, a book that had imprinted on her when she first read it as a child.

The reading didn't last much longer past the coming and going of Ismay, and Lilian soon found herself snapping the book shut, resulting in a satisfying snap that filled the empty air of her room. Her room seemed minimalist in question, but was a lot more micro managed in concept. The walls were an off-white with a red trim, and the floor was hardwood. Her bed was placed in the corner beside the window, running lengthwise along the wall, so that the light filtered in past her and not onto her into the morning. The bed contained a single pillow, one she had been using since childhood, as well as a red sheet and a heavy, patterned comforter, all of which lay disturbed.

To the left of her bed, under the windowsill, there was an end table, and on it was placed a lamp, with the rest of the surface space remaining bare. The end table had a drawer, but that was also empty. In the opposite corner of her bed, on the other side of the end table, there was a bookcase, and in the bookcase there were books, indexed in alphabetical order by title rather than by the author's last name, sans any books that were part of a series, which were always in order of release on the shelves. This bookshelf was small, white, and had only three shelves, all of which were filled. Across the room from that bookshelf in the opposite corner was another bookshelf, one much taller and made of unpainted wood. It had five shelves, and all of them were full as well. In between the two bookcases, a white wall heater stuck out from the bottom, with a single dial to turn it on and control the temperature it regulated.

There was a small walk-in closer in the corner kitty-corner her bed, which protruded out from the wall, and it contained the clothes she owned, all neatly hung up and organized by color. To the left in this closet there was also a small table, which held a record player. All along the floor of the closet, in boxes, there were vinyl records. Some held sentimental value and most got almost no play time at all, but Lilian mostly enjoyed the aesthetic of it all.

Finally, in the middle of the room, there was a stool, and in front of this stool, there stood an easel, and on this easel, there rest a canvas. This canvas lay blank, yet to be touched by the paints or pastels that Lily so frequently worked with. It had been set up after she woke up because she initially thought that she was going to paint in her bedroom, but had, just at the moment of closing her book, decided that she'd like to take it outside, see what surreal landscape she could conjure on that particular morning.

Before she got up from her bed, she lay the book on the table and clenched her fists while simultaneously locking her elbows, raising her arms slowly above her head as she arched her back and yawned, stretching out everything. She let out a loose sigh as she relaxed, dropping her arms back down to her side and begin the ritual of cracking every joint that needed it, starting with her knuckles and working her way up to her neck. Afterwards, she stood up from her bed and rose onto her tip toes, bending them and then rocking back onto her heels as she worked to throw her hair into a loose ponytail. She threw on a light sweater with sleeves too long for her, jeans, and removed the canvas from the easel so she could collapse it to make it easier to carry.

Placing the canvas under one arm and carrying the easel with that hand, she grabbed the rudimentary pastels she wanted and struggled with the doorknob of her door to get out into the hall. Managing to get it open after placing a pastel in her mouth so she could get a grip, Lily slipped into the hall and closed the door by kicking it closed behind her. The pastel remained in her mouth.

She maneuvered down the hall to the nearest exit, passing the entrance to the terrace as she did so, and noting two figures she didn't recognize, a single thought running through her head as she carried on without a second glance.

Don't know, literally don't care.

Once she made it outside, she found an appropriate spot and began to set up her canvas, realizing at the last moment that she had forgot a seat.

"I'm too fucking lazy to go back up and get the stool, anyway." She muttered, pressing the first pastel against the canvas and breathing life into art. In her fervor to set up, she hadn't noticed that she had dropped a pastel several feet back.

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Character Portrait: Wilhelm Von Faringhsten

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#2014-11-13 22:19:16, as written by Caged Bird

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ＳＫＹＬＡＲxＦＡＵＳＴ

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Things went from bad to worse in a manner of seconds. One moment the siblings had managed to escape the lunacy inside the house so they could smoke their cigarettes in peace, and the next they were right back in the pandemonium. Trouble followed the pair wherever they went it seemed, Haven was to be no exception. Aaron had come to make his spurious apologies and the German had taken offense at his words, though why, Skylar couldn't be sure. It wasn't as if the apology was aimed in his direction. Perhaps their was already a preexisting rivalry between them both? She looked on with a with mild amusement, content to watch the boys square off, that was until Wilhem's contentious personality only sought to dose gasoline on his incendiary powers. Flames licked at his hand, racing up his forearm at an alarming rate. Her nervous gaze flitted back to Simon behind her. It wouldn't do well to have her baby brother incinerated on their first day there. She placed a hand on his narrow chest and pushed him backward a couple of steps, moving with him out of the line of 'fire'. She warred with intervening when Ismay appeared above them, the balconies apparently being the preferred distance from those who you sought to address around here. "Aaron, do you mind grabbing me some more Tylenol. It's in my side drawer, or there's some in the kitchen." She called down, before turning her attention to Wilhem. "You okay? It helps to count your breaths and focus your attention to a single thing. That, or you could throw the flower pot to your left and break it. Just don't uh, throw it at a person." Sky scoffed, grateful the girl had stepped in when she did, but these people were worse off that her brother and herself combined.

"...Come on Link, let's go...unpack or something." She suggested quietly. "We should give him a few minutes to calm down." She knew her brother would probably retort with some ironic play on words about how things were 'just heating up', but she hadn't the patience to deal with any of this. She snaked her hand around his bicep and tugged. "I mean it, let's just go." At this juncture, she was considering leaving Haven altogether. Maybe coming there had been a mistake in the first place. Skylar was eaten up with regret at having ask Simon to come there at all, it was obvious no one here could help them let alone themselves. The only purpose this place served was to section them off from the rest of the normal populous it seemed, which efficaciously kept the mundanes safe but did nothing to aid those who had no control over their powers. This could all be discussed and hashed out in the privacy of their bedrooms though, away from the prying eyes and ears of the Haven residents.

Setting

The Safe Haven

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#2014-11-14 00:56:51, as written by ibecameinsane

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ＳＩＭＯＮxＦＡＵＳＴ

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"You have to be quite heavily invested in someone to
do them the honour of telling them you're
annoyed with them." — Alain de Botton

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To be honest, Simon had checked out the moment Wilhelm sat at his side. He offered a perfunctory nod of encouragement while the foreigner rambled on, doing naught to pay attention to what he was saying because he couldn't understand a word of his little spiel. For the most part he just blocks Wilhelm out, the sound of his voice nothing more than white noise. It's a slow pitfall into apathy that he stands no chance against. That is, until the voice of a certain tow-headed douche demands the attention of the three. Simon turns in his seat on the brick steps with utter insouciance, cocking a brow at the house nuisance as he stood atop the balcony. "Someone made me realize that my words were also directed towards myself and very offensive. Erin says, coaxing Simon to roll his eyes. I'm sorry, okay? There I said, you all heard it and it is finalize." It's finalize? Simon thinks, restraining a laugh through a thin lipped smile before turning his back on the man without a word. He takes a long drag of his cigarette, barely finishing the thing before Wilhelm stands and goes off without rhyme or reason. Not that Simon wasn't amused, mind you. In fact, once the foreigner's arms are engulfed in flame, he flicks his cigarette butt into the fire and laughs when it's reduced to ash in seconds. Skylar pulls him up to his feet in a second, placing herself between him and the foreign. It's impressive considering Wilhelm was sat between them but not surprising. Simon would wager that she didn't even realized she'd done it. When his sister's eyes flick back to him, he sees the fear in her gaze; how she pictures him burning alive right in front of her. He gives her a look that screams, "I'd rather you not picture me dying so many times in one day, thanks. I do enough of that on my own." but it doesn't register. She's too relieved to see brown eyes accompanying Erin on the balcony asking for headache medicine. With another heavenward ascension of his eyes, Simon releases a drawn out sigh and shakes another cancer stick out of its pack, using the dying flames on Wilhelm's arms to light it as his sister tries to console him.

"...Come on Link, let's go...unpack or something." Skylar says to him as she inches closer, whispering up into his ear though he was almost a foot taller. "We should give him a few minutes to calm down." Simon grins around his coffin nail, holding it between his teeth as an obvious pun practically screams to be spoken. Her response is too pull him away by his bicep, repeating herself and barely giving him the chance to pick up their bags before they're moving away from the resident hothead.

"Stay hot, Will." With a two-fingered salute and a wink, Simon allows himself to be escorted away from all of the commotion. Seriously, Simon was exhausted. All this conversation was sending him into an early grave more so than the chain smoking ever could. "Let's hope none of them get the bright idea to follow." he mutters begrudgingly, polishing off half of his cigarette before snuffing it out on the grass as he spares a brief glance at the scene over his shoulder. "...and I thought I had problems." With their bags in one hand and another on the small of his sister's back, Simon walks them around the side of the house, stumbling through unfamiliar territory. Skylar remained silent, lost in thought no doubt. Simon let her be, offering the comforting weight of his arm around her shoulders to ease her way.

Simon doesn't know how his sister knew where their bedroom was, but he didn't. Instead he led them through the backyard, eyes flitting about the scattered trees for one that would grant them a few minutes of privacy. He barely sees the blonde girl sitting down with her easel as they pass, nor—he'd wager—does she see him. It's by mere happenstance that his gaze falls on a patch of grass several paces forward only to land on a lone pastel resting amongst the blades. "Hold up a minute, Skyfall." he says, placing their bags on the ground and ushering his sister to a stop. He bends at the waist to pick up the abandoned hue, gesturing to Skylar to give him a moment before slowly jogging to the girl with the easel. He wasn't like most of these people here at Haven who needed to show off their powers all at once, he could walk. Gingerly placing it at her side he waits a moment for her gaze to rise before he offers her a soft smile, sparing a glance at what was on her easel. It wasn't much but, from what he saw, it showed a lot of promise. "Looks good so far," he tells her, offering her another smile before taking his leave with a resigned wave.

With a light-footed run, he meanders back to his sisters side, motioning with his head towards the farthest edge of the backyard before picking up their bags once more. When they final arrive, he moves them behind one of the bushes and sits himself on the grass, sitting their bags at his side, "Alright spill," he sighs, "What's on your mind?"

Setting

The Safe Haven

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#2014-11-19 23:28:49, as written by Caged Bird

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"It was a sibling thing, the intricate tangle of
love and duty and resentment that tied them
together. The glances they exchanged; the
complicated balance of power established over
decades; the games others would never play
with rules they would never fully understand."

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"Let's hope none of them get the bright idea to follow...and I thought I had problems." Simon muttered bitterly, the whole exchange having obviously taken it's toll on him despite the flippant persona he chose to display in that moment. Skylar swore the boy was born glib. "Speaking of problems..." she thought idly, trying to figure out her best approach on the subject of leaving when they had only just arrived. It had been childish to believe that this place nestled away from prying eyes would magically hold all the answers they sought, like they were in some Harry Potter novel and this was their version of Hogwarts. Perhaps their powers were just something that she'd never come to an understanding of; along with the human brain, quantum mechanics, Sudoku puzzles...but now wasn't exactly the ideal time for such contemplations.

Before she knew what they were doing, lost in the quagmire of her own racing thoughts, they were on the back lawn of Haven. The grass plot rolled outward toward a sparse tree line and was devoid of any meddlesome teens, giving time that molasses quality that only ever existed when you were more or less alone together. It suddenly occurred to her that in redirecting her brother from the train wreck of a scene out front, that she had not actually ever been told where their rooms were by the evasive Ismay. Skylar's pensive expression softened into a faint smile. Her brother obviously had known as much and lead them to the only place where they might find some privacy, at long last. His hand was warm and comforting on the small of her back until he abruptly abandoned his post beside her to uncharacteristically help a girl struggling to get out the back door and onto the terrace with an easel and paints. It was a polite gesture, one she hadn't thought he would be capable of with the current mood, but perhaps he wasn't half as implacable as she was at times. Skylar scowled, their isolated respite now intruded upon, though she supposed it wasn't the poor girl's fault. This was her home, not theirs.

By the time Simon had lopped back over to her, she had steeled herself for the unpleasant conversation that was likely to ensue. She motioned for him to follow her a little ways away from the painter toward a comfortable looking patch of grass, and settled down with her legs crossed so that she could pick at the turf instead of meeting his weighted gaze. "So...uh." She cleared her throat, coughing out a short bark of a laugh. "Hell of an introduction. This place is about as crazy as a bag full of cats." Skylar sighed, pulling up a long blade of grass and tearing it into sections. "Maybe I was wrong, for once, to...suggest we come here. They don't seem to have their shit together...could be dangerous too, to room with more than a few ticking time bombs." She glanced up at last, her dark brown eyes catching his own nervously. "I'd have to kill them all if you got hurt and murder is like, one of the only things not on my conscious at this point. I'd rather not add it to the list if I can help it."

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