[IC] The Outsider: A Season of Mists

Kay422 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kay422** on Fri Jun 11, 2010 1:10 pm

Cheyenne matched Adrian’s smile for a moment; but hers was genuine…She couldn’t tell about his. It seemed rehearsed in a way and yet he seemed sincere. She shook her head with a small laugh as she released his hand after giving it a strong shake.
“Well I’m no movie star…so I must have been in one of the same classes as you.” She commented with a shrug. His question made her squint with thought for a moment, the smile faded from her lips a moment.

“My Grandma’s name was Sunshine, and it’s my middle name…” She said biting her lower lip before managing another sincere smile; her grandmother had acted as her mother throughout her life. To some being called Sunny might not be appreciated but she didn’t mind it. “I prefer Sunny…Though Chey is good to if you’d rather call me that.” She concluded.

ProfPeacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **ProfPeacock** on Fri Jun 11, 2010 3:15 pm

"Sunny, it is," Adrian smiled, without hesitation. He sensed something in the way her voice trailed off when talking about her grandmother, as if she was thinking about the woman. He couldn't remember the last time he'd thought of either of his grandmothers. "Maybe over hors d'oeuvres you could tell me about your grandmother. She sounds cool. That, is, if you don't mind. Everyone in my family is named Bradford, Lynn, or Harriet, or something else along those lines. I'm sure you know the type."

He felt his clothes clinging to him and remembered he needed to change clothes. "Speaking of which, I should change. Please excuse me. I would be kicked out of the Hollow family if I went to the dinner table wearing lycra, or whatever it is this shirt is made out of, no matter how much it cost. But I look forward to chatting some more, Sunny."

Adrian made his way through the marvelous front door of the Brokenboch manor and wandered around the first floor, trying to find the room the professor had indicated. Now, was it the second door on the left or the third door on the right? Well, a guest who's not a little nosy is a guest who's trying to hide something, he thought as he tried the left door and then the right before finally finding the correct door.

A quick splash under the arms and in the tender places, across his face, and through his hair and he was ready to dry off . . . with his dirty biking clothes. He quickly decided that one of the slightly damp hand towels was better than dirty clothes and quickly changed, ready for the evening in an almost see-through white cotton button-down and navy blue shorts that must have been ordered directly from 80sYuppie.com or something like that. And a cream colored belt. Perfect attire for an autumn dinner.

digi-kun · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **digi-kun** on Fri Jun 11, 2010 8:30 pm

"Well," Shoren thought, replying to Opal's question. "I'm proficient with pencil lead and acrylic. I'd go into digital art, but the end results always look so artificial to me, so I try to stay away from that..." He considered for a moment, the next part of his answer. "And actually, I like painting the ocean and it's sea creatures. Makes me remember my home." He said. "I miss the ocean. I practically grew up there with my friends. Funny, how I never thought I'd even leave when I'm right here out in the middle of a desert." Shoren said, laughing. "And you? What kind of work do you do? Do you study artifacts, or your one of the ones of who dig them up maybe?"

Iron Fist · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Iron Fist** on Fri Jun 11, 2010 9:52 pm

"Right now, I do whatever my mentor says," Opal said. "I help with the digging, cleaning off the artifacts, studying them and finding the origin. We were on a dig in Mexico when I got my letter. My mentor says I'll be ready to go out on my own soon, though. He's taught me nearly everything he knows. I hope it's really soon, because I heard of this dig in Brazil that sounds so awesome..."

A smile crossed her face and she looked off towards the wall.

"I can't believe how far I've come... You might miss the ocean, but I sure don't miss the farm I grew up on... well, besides my family and the ropes. I loved to lasso, you see. Still pretty good at it, I think."

WaywardDreamer · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **WaywardDreamer** on Sat Jun 12, 2010 9:49 pm

"There will be eight of us, altogether," Franz announced as he entered the dining room. Besides myself and the five of you who have already arrived, there is another student I was rather fond of. His name was Winchester Nuefield. Monsier Prideaux and Miss Lewn may, perhaps, remember him. He is quite fuzzy, and when I say he would have better lived as a flower child than anything else, I am quite serious. Additionally, there will be a guest tonight with whom none of you are familiar, but we will tend to that in good time."

He had perhaps fallen into a bit of a reverie in the quiet of the night, staring at the long road and driveway leading into his property. It was an eerily easy landscape to lose oneself in, even for a man like Brockenboch who had lived here for many years now. He was certainly going to miss the Mo'ai when the Smithsonian decided to repossess it later but he knew it was inevitable and necessary. Besides, tonight he had far more important things to deal with, such as guaranteeing his own continued existence. This had a good deal to do with his reasoning behind calling six of his former students to meet with him, at his private residence entirely out of the blue.

And, with that in mind it was time for Professor Brockenboch to address his students.

With a smile, he selected a Domaine Sainte Claire sauvignon - from 2005, according to the label - and poured himself a glass of the dry white wine. He raised the glass up, tapped on the side, a soft clink-clink piercing over the conversation.

"If I may, students. First and foremost, I would like to thank all of you for responding to my invitation. It means the world to me, to know you still hold such respect for me despite my... recent, unfortunately public, troubles. Second, I do believe we should move on to the reason for tonight's revelry. I invited all of you here for a purpose. You were all among my finest students, and I have the utmost faith in your abilities. If I did not, I would not entrust you with the knowledge I am about to impart."

Franz took a deep breath.

"I have made a discovery, a truly remarkable discovery..."

Iron Fist · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Iron Fist** on Mon Jun 14, 2010 5:43 pm

Opal was listening, though she was also trying to be sneaky, grabbing the food in front of her and quickly popping it into her mouth. As he talked, she kept eating, but when he mentioned the discovery, she stopped in mid chew and mid grab.

"A discovery?" she asked after swallowing. "What kind of discovery, professor?"

Kay422 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kay422** on Tue Jun 15, 2010 12:44 am

Cheyenne smiled and nodded at Adrian’s suggestion; she could go on for days about her grandmother however she figured that there was a purpose to this visit besides chit chat. The professor always had a method to his madness and despite his spontaneity he wouldn’t have called them there for no good reason…she hoped. The professor had started to speak though Sunny was distracted by an old vase on a shelf nearby. Her fingers brushed against it gently before she heard the professor’s words.

I have made a discovery, a truly remarkable discovery...

Chey’s hands pushed the vase causing it to tip off the shelf; it seemed to move in slow motion as it tipped and her breath caught in the back of her throat before she took a dive to catch it in the nick of time. Now on her knees with a vase in her hand she looked over at the professor with an awkward smile that apologized for herself. She stood replacing the vase to it’s shelf before stepping carefully away from it. Forever she would be clumsy. Opal’s question mimicked what she was thinking though she repeated the question in her own words.

“Yeah, old man...what in the world have you found now?” She asked with a raised brow waiting with a sudden burst of curiosity. Her head tilted slightly as she waited for him to explain further.

digi-kun · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **digi-kun** on Tue Jun 15, 2010 2:42 am

Shoren simply sat and listened. Finest students...? Has faith in our abilities? He was confused as to the professor's choice of words. Namely, that Shoren didn't consider himself to be able to contribute much to anything, but also it sounded as if he was in need of help. But what kind? And then he he hard it. "I have made a discovery, a truly remarkable discovery..."

As if to enhance the dramatic statement, there was a bit of a thumping noise immediately after, and looking around, saw that it was one of the girls who accidentally knocked down a vase. He had missed the incredible dive for the vase, but it was apparent she had prevented it from shattering. Shoren held back his chuckle, simply smirking instead.

Opal spoke up. "A discovery? What kind of discovery professor?"

"Yeah, old man...what in the world have you found now?" Echoed the girl. What in the world indeed. This was the man who claimed he knew the Loch Ness Monster. For him to say it was something remarkable, must mean it was either something truly noteworthy, or something of a joke.

ProfPeacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **ProfPeacock** on Tue Jun 15, 2010 7:45 am

Adrian set his backpack down just inside the dining room and leaned on the stately back of one of the chairs. It looked fine and delicate, but it easily held what of his weight he placed on it. He was tired and he was hungry. In the bathroom he'd swiped a large bite of lemon poppyseed protein bar, but it hardly helped. In fact, it hardly went down his throat and he realized he was also extremely thirsty. All he wanted to do was eat and lie down, but he couldn't. It was supper time, or cocktail hour, or something that allowed for small pieces of something green and tentacley on a silver platter in the middle of the table. Adrian briefly wondered if it was animal or vegetable.

Hungry as he was, not everyone was seated and, as the professor had just mentioned, they were still waiting for another student to arrive. It would be beyond his upbringing to start, so he just leaned.

Adrian started at the sound of the professor's clinking the side of his wine glass and lifted his glass to drink. On his plate, he saw the remnant pools of four green circles, which he had apparently eaten without even realizing it. Peering down over his nose into the glass as he raised it to his lips, he saw that it was now empty except for a few droplets of water and marked by chapstick and his fingerprints. He consoled himself that he was at least still unseated and hoped that no one had noticed his monstrous eating habits. He let his shoulders relax and stood with a hand on the back of the chair as he scanned the room. He settled for thinking that no one here cared how he ate and he started to smile.

The word "discovery" cleared out his drifting mind.

brujay · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **brujay** on Fri Jun 18, 2010 9:37 pm

Winchester was not having the greatest evening.

Despite being given very confident directions from a confident looking GPS, he had gotten lost, turned upside down and had wound up on the lawn of Clint Eastwood's summer home (a rather subdued estate, all told). Eventually, after much effort, he had found Brockenboch's home, the giant, bronzed "B" being a helpful indicator. Neatly sliding his towncar past the gate, he drove past the many curios and oddities in Brockenboch's keep, before finding a spot amid the other vehicles. He noted to himself that he was a bit too late to be fashionable, before silently turning off the engine. The remainder of the cobbled drive was tackled in further silence.

The door opened easily, and while it was presumptuous of him to open it, he cared little about the whole ordeal any longer, wanting simply to eat some mini-eclairs, a crudites or two, and to be on his merry way. Stalking down the hall, he entered the room with Brockenboch's other guests (already a-munching on snacks), he let out a sheepish wave and a chuckle, before breaking the silence with more sheepishness.

"Not horridly late am I? Sorry, I'm just really bad with directions. Or my technology is really bad at directing me, I'm not exactly sure which is worse."

Tæfarós · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Tæfarós** on Wed Jun 23, 2010 11:28 pm

Sebastien idled there, slightly discouraged by the lack of acknowledgement--and only slightly, as he was more than used to it--and the fact that he and the aircraft would have to part ways for now. Everyone had settled in nicely, it seemed; the two fellow students had been hamming it up still, obviously too engaged in their moving of the gobs, when they allowed themselves in; others must gone inside beforehand, indulging in what might have been, judging by the scents wafting through the doorway, the world’s sexiest TV dinner. Everyone except for him. So what could a humble tadpole possibly do?

Well, for starters, there was eating. He took it upon himself to enter the dining room, his awe of the immaculate home concealed behind a polite smile. Seeing as he’d been nibbling on take-out and elementary school meals for the past month, he could have cleared the table in a minute. The tail-end of the professor’s first words came to his attention as he sat, drawn away from the guests, many of whom he failed to recognize at all. The mention of a Mr. Nuefield, however, was a bit more close to home; meticulously folding a napkin on his lap, Seb recalled the few times they had met, usually based around rather odd circumstances, but, more importantly, he recalled the beard. The man was fuzzy indeed. Kind of cute. Perhaps he would enter with this unknown attendee? These ridiculously trivial thoughts were shattered by the tinkering of a wine glass.

The speech began innocently enough. Seb refrained from filling his plate to lay his eyes on Brokenboch, silence emphasizing the matter of the situation. The younger man perked up at the hint of an explanation for their whereabouts; after all, they still remained mostly in the dark, so to speak, and the professor’s eccentricities were sure to send them down a whirlpool.

And then the discovery bomb fell. Major Kong rode that missile, and he rode it well. In Sebastien’s mind, the explosion sounded a little like pooooosh!

While the others had their remarks, Seb found it hard to speak. It wasn’t surprise that gripped him, really, more like an overarching sense of absurdity that plagued the entire scenario. His eyes widened a tad, anxiety creeping into his system, when the fashionably late Winchester made his grand entrance.

“You came just in time,” he finally said, soft-spoken. “We still have plenty of drink.”

[IC] The Outsider: A Season of Mists

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