Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Long-term fantasy roleplay partners wanted » Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! »

0
followers
follow

Harper Calloway Fields

I heard this great joke from my sister. Ready? What did one ocean say to the other ocean? ..... Give up? Nothing. They just...WAVED! AHAHAHAHA*snorts*HAHAHAHA!

0 · 2,228 views · located in Aires

a character in “Birthstone Spirits: The Great Escape”, as played by cirrus_sd

Description

Image Full Name: Harper Calloway Fields
Age: "I'm feeling twenty-twoooo~ See, it's funny because I am 22..."
Birthday: June 22
Living Situation: Currently living in a small apartment in Boston, MA. Originally from Manhattan, NYC.
Appearance: Harper hovers at 5'11 (and a half). He has dark brown, loosely curly hair that "cannot be tamed" (unless gratuitous amounts of hair gel are used) and naturally tanned skin that only gets darker the more it is exposed to the sun, with the exception of his nose, which, oddly enough, is the only part of his body that gets sunburned, which usually leads to him putting an obnoxious amount of sunscreen on said facial appendage. He has large eyes the color of the sea, switching between blue and green or a combination of both depending on the light and whatever color shirt he is wearing. He has a mouth that smiles easily, with playful dimples and eye crinkles that his sister jokes makes him look old, to which he always reply that they simply "add character". His face overall is very expressive, and he isn't afraid to exercise it, often folding and contorting his face into different expressions, sometimes out of pure boredom. His ears stick out from his face more so than most, and are even more prominent when he wiggles them, a feat he is particularly proud of, next to his whistling. Lately he has been trying out facial hair as a part of his image, though he still shaves regularly.

Due to a lifetime of swimming, his upper body is quite built, his shoulders broad. He has large palms, but his fingers are oddly slender, tapering at the fingertips, and his nails are rounded rather than square. His toes are also fairly long, and he has taken to using them as extra hands, opening doors, picking things up from the floor, and even dressing himself with their assistance. Also due to his swimming, Harper shaves his legs and arms, usually once a week. He once tried applying No-Shave November to his entire body, but realized by the end of it that swimming wasn't the same with all that hair, and from then on only participated with facial hair.

Harper usual dressing style is casual with just a hint of "prep", stemming from his well-to-do background. He still shops at Hollister and American Eagle when he can afford it, and almost always wears flip-flops unless there is more than an inch of snow on the ground, in which case he will consider wearing sneakers. He always wears a shark tooth necklace, and is often seen with a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his curly hair.

Personality: Harper is a loud, blunt, often obnoxious, sometimes funny, happy-go-lucky jokester of a guy (or at least he likes to think so). Typically people find him a bit of an asshole, due to his off-the-hand, typically insulting remarks, along with his tendency to speak before thinking, yet he still has a charismatic charm that helps keep him out of too much trouble. He has a penchant for puns and bad jokes, often finding them hilarious and liable to blurt them out whenever he finds opportunity to, regardless of whether he has anyone's approval or not. Whenever he finds a really good one, he finds himself unable to keep the pun or joke to himself and will share it with the world out loud. He is present-minded, having little regard for the future or what it may hold and instead lives in the moment, milking each minute for what it's worth. This has landed him in many sticky situations, often with the local police. He is good at improvising, lying, and telling stories (real and fake, and both with much exaggeration), and talks quickly and expressively, usually with his hands. He curses often, and has a tendency to make up curses, which may or may not always make sense.

Harper doesn't like being told what to do, which has often been problematic in the job department. He enjoys making decisions for himself, good and bad, regardless of the consequences. He is impatient, hates waiting and is very efficiency-based, hating redundancies despite it being protocol. He's always had difficulty with writing and reading in particular, but school overall he found boring. He is a very tactile person, having made several mechanical animals with moving parts that double as music boxes without any prior training. While he has worked a lot with metal, lately he has been delving into wood, creating his own furniture out of scrap pieces he collects off the side of the road. However, much of what he makes he does for his own enjoyment, and hasn't been successful in selling any of his creations because he doesn't market himself. He has a love for motorbikes, often getting arrested for taking them out on joyrides. He also enjoys musicals, having gone to many when he still lived in NYC, and has many of the soundtracks memorized. He also enjoys pop-songs, and is a bit of a pop-culture junky himself. While he doesn't know how to play any musical instruments, he does have a good singing voice if he tries. His dancing isn't half-bad either. And, of course, he is a very strong swimmer, and takes a daily swim in the Boston Harbor every morning. He suffers from a crippling fear of heights, and as such has never traveled by plane, climbed a tree, or ridden any amusement park ride (except for carousels). He also doesn't do any sort of diving from more than 6 feet above the water.

Background: Harper is the oldest of two children born to two very affluent New Yorkers in the heart of Manhattan. His father is a lawyer and his mother inherited her father's business. Born into a socialite party, Harper learned manners and protocols at a very early age. He never had to worry about money, and was typically given whatever he wanted. His parents were rarely home, however, and he spent a large amount of time with his younger sister, Sadie, whom he adores to this day. His prowess for swimming and tinkering was evident ever since he was very young, however his father took the former more seriously and paid for a personal coach in hopes that Harper would compete professionally, perhaps in the Olympics. Harper performed very well in competitive swimming, participating in every year of his schooling and placing well in Regional competitions. However, although his schoolwork was always average, in high school his grades dropped severely, something that his parents were both unhappy about, particularly his father, who punished Harper by refusing to allow him to participate in swimming that year. This only caused his grades to drop more, and after he was rejected by every college he applied to, his father threatened him with military school when he was 17.

Scared, Harper ran away that night and took a train to Boston. He didn't contact his parents for four years, only calling Sadie. He lived in an "unbelievably crappy" studio apartment with cheap rent for most of his time in Boston, only recently upgrading to a "slightly less crappy" single bedroom. His on and off job has been working as a Chinese Take-Out Bicycle Delivery boy (since he has no car), and even though his boss has fired him multiple times, he has also rehired him just as many times because Harper, despite the numerous times he has had to bail him out of jail and his terrible backtalking, is still his fastest delivery boy, even on a bicycle. In the past year, he reconnected with his parents on accident after Sadie purposely steered him towards them during one of her cello concerts. The relationship has still been very shaky, but he now calls them every now and then and will begrudgingly speak with them when Sadie forces him to. Right now he is in New York City for another one of Sadie's concerts.

So begins...

Harper Calloway Fields's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Tallyho hissed softly, a heavy breath escaping her, mouth pressed tightly and eyes glaring at the ceiling. Was he really doing that? It should hardly be a secret that the two men had at some point rolled in bed with one another. After so much time it was too obvious and honestly it would be trivial for Tallyho to address him about that of all things. In fact she felt her intelligence insulted that he thought she hadn’t a clue.
“I’m not asking what’s wrong with your
 personal tastes.” she paused, making eye contact and saying the phrase loudly and clearly to let him know that she obviously picked up on the relationship too. “I’m asking what’s wrong with the both of you as people. Socially. As people who—“
And there went Kyle. Tallyho was interrupted by his outburst. And as the stalky blonde moved with every intention of attacking Harper Tallyho moved too. But between them. Jutting her shoulder backwards at Kyle as to push him back.
“Sit down Kyle,” she said, voice flat and steely. She glared at the couch. She didn’t care what kind of beef they had at that point. Tallyho was just about to say something that she’d harbored within her ever since they walked through the core. Kyle always had his chance to talk. It was her turn. It was her turn.
She refocused on Harper. Dipping her face towards him—the shadows swallowed her cheeks—an ethereal rigidity about it.
“I’m asking what’s so wrong that the both of you can disregard other lives so easily. I’m asking why you’re so bull headed. I’m asking why you treat her (she gestured towards Skylar) like a side dish you only want to acknowledge when you’re deprived of your main course. Why you live your life so blindly to the troubles of others. Why you’re so ready to call Dorian a friend but you hardly care to take the time to learn about what’s going on in his life. Why you always have to absorb situations and twist them to be about its effect on you and you alone. You don’t have the capacity for empathy and I sensed this about you from the first day I met you. From every instance where you’ve stepped on my toe, or trudged into me without acknowledging it, like I’m a piece of dirt! In my culture we believe that evil is in the ordinary. It is not a grand creature with claws and fiery breath, it is prosaic. It is man. It is forgetfulness. Neglect. A lack of empathy. A lack of consideration. Evil is accidental but it is still evil. Evil is you.”
Tallyho silenced. Smoothing the festering blaze within her.
“I would say that you act so soulless sometimes
 But it seems you do that <i>all</i> of the time. And from what I can tell you wouldn’t care if every last one of us were murdered right before you. Because everything is perfect for Harper if he has his current preoccupation. And that preoccupation is safe in Harper’s world
 at least until Harper gets bored with it and throws it away with the rest of the trash.”
Tallyho did not storm off or stand there festering. Instead she turned, making a slow, dignified walk to the food table. Almost as if her outburst had never occurred silencing herself with a grape to the lips.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Autumn Jones
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Skylar couldn’t remember the last time she had actually been this happy. Between the months spent at sea followed by their prison stay before the flock, she’d felt trapped. Even in the aftermath of their victory, she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but empty.

But as the days passed, she found herself starting to act like her old self again. Her laughter became more genuine, smiles less fake. And while it would take a while before things were back to normal, she felt like she could finally live again.

Skylar watched with a bemused expression as Autumn happily pranced out onto the dance floor with Morgan. She could tell that the November warrior seemed a lot happier too, the thought bringing a smile to her face. Autumn’s positivity was one of the things she loved the most about her friend, and to see her back to her cheerful self only made Skylar happier.

It was Kyle who drew her attention away from the others, the younger blonde taking her hand and kissing it. She felt her cheeks flush at the unexpectedly blunt gesture.

"Are you sure you don't want to dance? Will you dance with me?"

A shrug rolled off of her shoulders as she nodded. “Sure, why not? I’m not very good to begin with, try not to laugh too hard!”

She considered the evening a victory, having danced with both Kyle and Harper without tripping over the skirt of her gown.
Things really were starting to look up.

-

If Skylar had thought that the previous night’s ball was extravagant, nothing could have ever prepared her for the next day.
Mildred seemed to have taken her already neurotic tendencies to a whole new level, doing everything in her power to make sure than things were perfected to her liking before the festivities were to begin.

Skylar shifted in her gown as she listened to the older woman’s instructions. She had never been one to play pretend growing up, yet all the fuss seemed to make up for the lack of sparkly princess costumes and tacky plastic crowns in her childhood.
The dress was beautiful, and she had to hand it to Mildred- she didn’t know how the woman came up with such gorgeous creations in such a seemingly short amount of time. The dress was an emerald green with a sweetheart neckline and a beaded empire waist, the skirt loose and flowing. The sleeves were capped and covered in the same silver beading, leaving her shoulders bare. It seemed to hit her in all the right places, accentuating her slight curves and fitting her perfectly (which she was incredibly grateful for- her hours spent as a human pin cushion didn’t seem to have been in vain). Her hair was fairly simple in contrast to the elaborate dress. Her hair had been braided to create a crown around the top of her head, a sparkly silver and emerald clip holding it together while the rest of her dark hair fell in loose waves down her back, smaller sparkly clips scattered throughout.

Skylar followed the others off to the waiting room, wishing that Autumn was with them as well. At least the separating of the warriors would finally give her some alone time with Harper. She barely saw him anymore, the older warrior always with Xabier.

In the midst of everything that had happened the night before, Skylar hadn’t even noticed that Dorian had left the ball. Catching the tail-end of his conversation with Tallyho (was it really eavesdropping if they were all stuck in the same small room together?), she gathered that he had managed to escape the festivities.

Kyle had been hovering around near her since they had arrived, offering to get her anything she wanted from the table of food. It was very sweet, and his behavior paired with his blonde hair reminded her a lot of a Golden Retriever puppy.

Skylar turned at the sound of Harper’s voice, lips turning up into a smirk. She did have to admit, he looked incredible- they all did, actually. Before she could open her mouth, Tallyho spoke up.

“Harper, what’s wrong with you? You and Xabier?”

It was surprising to hear the February warrior speak up, especially to Harper. In fact, it was probably the most she had ever heard her say to him.

Harper’s voice lacked the usual confidence as he stuttered out a reply, and Skylar tilted her head slightly. Before she could add anything to the conversation, Kyle was shoving Harper and Skylar was suddenly caught in the middle of the two water warriors.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t agree with Tallyho to an extent, especially when the slender blonde nodded in her own direction as she was addressing Harper. Skylar had never really considered the two of them friends, they had different social circles and remained civil towards each other, but it seemed almost as if she was standing up for her, saying the things that Skylar couldn’t bring herself to say out loud. Unlike Kyle, who was quick to show emotion in his voice, Tallyho’s voice remained flat and steely as she confronted the older male. She finished, simply walking off as if nothing had happened.

Skylar wasn't quite sure what to do or say next, biting down on her lip.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Autumn Jones Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher Character Portrait: Xabier Sanchez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

The party wasn't what he wanted it to be. Xabier was trying his best to hold out an olive branch to the others. If they wanted to accept then it was completely up to them. However, some people didn't seem willing to meet him halfway. Such as Autumn, the person who he hadn't realised he pissed off.

Sure, she danced with him and acted civil towards him but no matter how much it seemed,he wasn't an idiot. He could sense her disdain behind the friendly mask throughout his dance with her.
He was only being friendly but whatever.
Xabier inwardly shrugged at the discovery, it wasn't as if he was Mr Popular nowadays anyway.


Especially since he had no clue what he had done to deserve it.
Well aside from getting with a guy.... (And he thought no one knew about that, but he couldn't come up any other possible explanation)
But the majority of the Month Warriors were Earth born and/or Americans. He had assumed no one would make a big deal on that front. Though in the back of his mind Xabier was still afraid of Kyle's reaction. Even as he slowly made steps towards rebuilding the friendship the fear continued to cripple him. Anything could happen. He knew Kyle enough to know that gay or not, dating Harper was a no go.

Still he smiled and made polite conversation, occasionally dropping an anecdote about some funny family tradition back home. Even after the dance was over he made general conversation with the group. Smiling confidently, eye contact with everyone. It was only awkward if he let it be.
He made small conversation with Falke and quietly muttered a quick apology to Kyle for interrupting him and Skylar, following it up with a wink. At the end of the evening he smiled at everyone in turn and went back to his chamber.
Closing the door to his bedchamber his smile dropped instantly. He turned the mirror away from him again, undressed and placed a pillow on each side of the bed. Eyes closing, he could still see himself standing at the end of the bed watching as sleep carried him away.

The next day was more splendid than the last. Mildred had designed and had someone create a high collared shirt and matching dark navy suit. The colour of the suit was so dark that it almost looked like a shade of black. The Palace hairdressers had cut his hair and gelled it impeccably in place. He looked like a less eccentric Mr Gatsby.
Occasionally he would flirt subtly with Harper whenever he came over to show off his own outfit. It was a shame because no matter how hard he tried, Harper didn't seem to get the word "subtle". Xabier annoyingly liked him a little more for it.

Due to the warriors being split up into two groups with the only people he could talk to in another room, Xabier was stuck with people who obviously didn't want his presence.
He spent most of the time inspecting his nails and walking near the tables with the food, looking like the unwanted family member who just keeps turning up uninvited.

In the end he decided to just get it over and done with and approach Falke and Autumn.
His thoughts, if Falke was looking into his head, were loud and clear.
< I am coming over to talk and I don't care if you dislike me. We are in public so at least pretend you're happy to see me, I'll leave you alone again in a few minutes.>

"Ah hey guys, last night was quite fun, huh?" He smiled a smile faker than Pamela Anderson's breasts.
It wasn't the way he wanted things to be but it was clear that his genuine attempts would be immediately shot down.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Ryou Zerinn
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

His change of topics had apparently worked, Dorian thought victoriously as Tallyho awarded him with a slight smile, her eyes crinkling with contained mirth (he really would have to ask her what in the Hell he'd done that night, even if he was relatively sure it was a secret she'd take to the grave). And in that moment, everything was alright. Not perfect, of course not perfect, with his too-tight pants, the upcoming ceremony, and the fact that there was a palpable tension settling over the room, but sitting here with Tallyho and reminiscing, he felt content. This content feeling lasted all of ten seconds as Kyle's voice interrupted their temporary lull in conversation.

It occurred to Dorian then and only a handful of people wouldn't be particularly surprised that he'd left with Trent last night. Tallyho wouldn't, even if she disapproved, and Haru and Ryou were well aware of the fact that the General preferred Dorian to the rest of the group. There was something sad about the fact that his teammates had no idea what he was up to on a regular basis, and he wasn't sure if that was his fault for not advertising it or theirs for not noticing. Tallyho knew at least, even if he hadn't told her about the first hunting expedition with General Cress. She'd caught his eye at the shocking "hello" he'd given him at breakfast with the royal family, had attempted to do the same again when Trent had chatted him up at the ball for some time before whisking him away to a land of bar fights and booze. He stuffed the thought away, as he did with most of the many unpleasant thoughts involving the group these days, and turned to Kyle to reply.

Or, rather, to try to reply because before he could do much more than open his mouth to speak, Kyle had quite suddenly pushed Harper bodily away from Skylar and Tallyho was grasped onto the moment to say what he knew she'd wanted to say for a long, long time. It was like an intervention had begun in the time it was going to take for the ceremony to start.

Harper's response had Dorian staring at him in disbelief. There was something inherently insulting about Harper's quick and fumbled excuses. This was partially because Dorian considered himself a rather modern thinker who couldn't care less about preferences- and that was even before he'd spent such a long time with Ryou who didn't care to keep his fondness of the male sex any big secret- and also because he wasn't stupid. Did he really think that he and Xabier were that good at keeping it secret? That no one had noticed their little flirtations or that fact that they almost always ran off together? It was about as secret as the fact that Dae and Liam were probably already married or that Haru was constantly on the verge of actually exploding from a combination of anger and stress. Or, you know, maybe it wasn't that obvious if the way Kyle whirled on Harper meant anything. Dorian pulled himself to his feet, not moving towards anyone, but instead poised to react. Also, he realized as he tugged idly at one pant leg, standing was a whole Hell of a lot more comfortable at the moment.

Were they really going to start a fight right before the big ceremony? Really? Couldn't they at least wait until afterwards? No one would give two shits if they did it afterwards- or, you know, Dorian wouldn't give two shits at least-, but someone was sure to start asking questions if two of the month warriors came in with bloody noses or black eyes, and worse if Mildred caught wind of it.

But Tallyho was not to be deterred from her mission to finally tell Harper like-it-was, silencing Kyle with a steely voice and a sharp glare before advancing on Harper herself, her weapons words not fists. She wielded them with all the elegance and practice of one who's been keeping it all in for far too long. Two stabs were for the two people in the room frozen where they stood, Dorian watching in a stunned silence and Skylar biting her lip uncertainly. The rest were for Tallyho and others who had dealt with his antics in the past, a flurry of painful truths and burning hate tumbling from her lips. At last there was silence as Tallyho moved to the snack table, popping a grape absently into her mouth.

Dorian, who'd dealt with all of them long enough to realize that there were approximately three ways Harper could react to Tallyho's accusations if his past records meant anything, smoothly moved to stand in front of the door, leaning against the heavy wood with an elegance that came more from the way his outfit forced his body to move as opposed to any natural grace. The door was their only exit and as much as he'd like the situation to diffuse itself, he couldn't really have anyone storming off in a huff.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Harper was wrong.

Clearly it was Tallyho who could write a book on shit that was wrong with him.

His face was a mask as the blonde hurled flaw after flaw at him. Why this? Why that? Why why why why why.

For a change, he listened. Really listened to each word. Each black mark against him. He wanted to know what exactly he had done to the February warrior that had her so pissed off at him. Because as far as he knew, there really shouldn't be any bad blood between them at all.

And there it was. He'd stepped on her toe apparently. Or bumped into her. Apparently it was evil to be a basic human being. Or, in this case, to be him. Clearly the cyclopeans were nothing compared to him. He was the true evil here.

He'd been called worse things.

But it was the last few sentences that really pissed him off. How sure she sounded. If it was Dorian or Skylar, maybe he'd take them seriously. But this was from a girl he was hardly friends with, talking like she knew him.

Well, what the hell did she know?

His first instinct was to drop a one-liner and then make a break for it. But he heard footsteps, and his eyes slid over to Dorian, blocking their only exit. Eliminating that plan.

Harper hated confrontation. But he hated strangers who acted like they knew him even more. And while Tallyho wasn't exactly a stranger, she was certainly no friend of his. And in no position to act like she knew the first thing about him.

He swallowed hard, jaw clenching. He glanced at Skylar first. "Is that how you feel?" he asked, "Like a side dish?"

"And you?" he turned to face Dorian, "I can't call you friend because I don't push my nose into your business?"

He whipped back to Tallyho. Standing by the food. Eating. Like she hadn't said anything. God, what a bitch.

"That's a pretty in-depth analysis for someone who's said a maximum of twenty words to me over the past three years," he snarled, "I'm evil, huh? Is that it? I'm evil because I accidentally don't pay attention to you or where I'm walking? I'm evil for making mistakes? How about the time I taught you to swim, huh? Was that a 'lack of consideration'?"

He spat those words out, voice high in mockery. "You know," he continued, shaking a finger as he stepped towards her, "You talk about a 'lack of empathy', but who was it that called a fucking ambulance for your sorry ass after you fell out of that tree in the first place? Me, princess. And in case you still don't know, an ambulance is a vehicle with medics. And who was it that was telling everyone else to not crowd you? To give you space? Yeah, that was also me. But you probably forgot. How convenient. Wasn't that one of your evils? Forgetfulness? Oh, I guess that means you're evil too, now."

He rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a breath. He was a fast-talker to begin with, and anger added a heavier dimension to his words. Like he was stomping through the earth with his voice.

"And on that note, I didn't exactly see any empathy being thrown my way when I was having a panic attack up the mountain. You think I was freaking out because I wanted to? I have acrophobia! You know what that means? You know how he is in closed places?" he jabbed a finger at Kyle, "That's me with heights. I still have fucking nightmares about that, and it was three years ago. But I guess it's okay to not care about the guy who doesn't care about anyone else, right?"

"You want to call me evil?" he asked, throwing out his arms, voice back to a reasonable volume, "Fine. Soulless? I'll add that to the ever-growing list of shit I've been called in the past. Which, oh by the way, has a lot worse stuff. But don't you ever..."

And here his voice took a turn for the dark. The serious. No high tones. No laughter. No mirth. A finger pointed at her, the muscles arcing from his wrist to his cheek tight as a guitar string.

"Don't you ever fucking say I wouldn't care if you guys were killed in front of me! Because if that had even an ounce of truth to it, I would not be here. In this room. With you!"

He swallowed, throat raw from shouting. He felt like his skin was on fire. Red with heat. Red with anger. For a few seconds he let those words echo out, chest heaving up and down as he breathed.

"So here's a piece of friendly advice," he finally concluded, "Next time you want to read a bitch, do your fucking research and tell me something I don't already know!"

Like flicking a switch, he moved from Tallyho to Kyle. "As for you," he said, and he took a defiant step next to Skylar, "Don't forget that we were bff's before you even considered entering the picture. I've taken a lot of shit from you, but if you think I'm going to just let you boss me around where my bestie's concerned, you're clearly delusional. If I'm going to be a bad friend, I do it on my own terms. Not because some short blond with a hard-on for punching me in the face told me to."

He considered putting an arm around Skylar's shoulder, but refrained. Sheepishly. He knew those words from Tallyho had some truth in them.

"Oh, and for the record," he continued, winding down from the summit of furiousness to the valley of sarcasm, "Xabi is a nickname for Xabier. It's not that hard to figure out."

At this point, he didn't even care if he got punched. This time, he was going to return it. He'd already clenched his fist.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Well that had escalated quickly.

All Skylar had wanted to do was fake her way through the ceremony and then enjoy herself at the dance afterwards. She didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of some confrontation that could have waited until another time (preferably never- or at least until after their reputations were at stake).

Skylar had spent her entire life being pushed to the side, good only as a last resort. It had simply come with the territory of being born into a big family, the trait carrying over into her social life as well. And one would have thought that having dealt with that would have made her less likely to put up with anyone’s bullshit, but in reality, it just made it easier to cope with.

Some habits were harder to break than others, and sometimes history was just destined to repeat itself.

"Is that how you feel? Like a side dish?"

If this had been three years ago, Skylar would have said something back right at that moment. Stood up for herself and replied with a witty retort and a string of curse words. But a lot had changed in the years since they had left New York City, and she bit her tongue.

Sometimes you had to pick and choose your battles, and now wasn’t the time or the place for this battle. Not now, not right before they were all supposed to smile and show the entire kingdom how fucking perfect they were as the chosen Month Warriors (and especially not right before she was supposed to be the unfortunate middleman between Kyle and Harper).

“This really isn't the best time to have this conversation," Skylar said at last, her voice coming out harsher than she'd intended.
She shifted uncomfortably in her dress, suddenly finding it impossible to breathe beneath the stiff fabric.

She could see Dorian blocking her exit behind them, strategically placed right next to the door and preventing any of them for making a run for it. Dammit.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Autumn Jones Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher Character Portrait: Xabier Sanchez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Linnea
Oh no. Her little tactic hadn't worked, as Xabier walked up anyways,

Wow I am so sorry Falke. I hoped I could avoid stuff. I didn't mean to get you caught in it.

“Delightful.” She smiled back, not wanting to start a fight right before the big event. Besides, it wasn't as she had any real reason to be upset at him. It was jealousy that fueled her rage and she was self aware enough to realize that acting out of it was a petty move. Ok, maybe she felt a little bit entitled to her anger. Still, the least she could do was act friendly.

Apparently, this wasn't the case in the other room. Autumn was always informed. Spirits always communicated with her. She was well aware of the situation going on. If she could, she would get a battering ram and carry everyone out of there and into separate corners. To think that there was nothing she could do was infuriating.

“Son of a bitch...” She whispered under her breath.

“Sorry, got some bad news.” Her gaze was much less harsh this time. She wasn't angry at Xabier anymore. She was angry at Harper, and that would have to be solved later. In the shadow of what had happened in the other room, Xabier didn't seem too bad. Hell, everyone in this room was lucky that they only got stuck with a mildly awkward situation. Hopefully the other shoe wouldn't drop.

“Anyways, yeah. I didn't expect it to be that fun. Some of the nobles were a little stiff, and by that I mean I might have accidentally talked to a dead guy, but hey that's just part of life!” Autumn laughed, hoping she could turn the situation in this room positive. Having the entire group pissed off at each other would have been going too far.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

All the words hit hard. But one in particular he reacted to first.

"You leave Xabi out of this!" he shouted angrily, "You leave Xabi the fuck out of this!"

The fist had been meant for Kyle, should the blond decide to attack him. But Harper was seriously considering Tallyho's proposition. Even if it would get him killed.

No. Especially if it would get him killed.

"You think I'm empty?" Harper demanded, "Predictable? Attention-whoring? That I coerced Dorian and Skylar to be my friends, because god knows I don't actually have anything substantial to offer? Well guess what? You're right! I'm a piece of shit! It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. Even the things you aren't right about must be, since the great Tallyho said so. And she is soooo right, honey. You say I love to be observed? Sure. But maybe you guys just love to observe me, just so you have that one guy to judge, that person to point fingers at. At least I'm not like him. At least I'm not that bad. I'm the trainwreck that you guys just love to look at. Because at least it's not happening to you."

"Well let me tell you something, sugar. As much as you might hate me, as much as you might wish I was never here, at least you get to leave. You don't have to live 24/7 with me, with this asshole, with this shitty mind." He jabbed at his head viciously, "You get a break. I don't. You think I'm not self-aware? That I'm that clueless? I might miss the minutae of all my flaws, but I can see the big picture, at least where I'm concerned. If there was ever a "Who hates Harper most" contest, I would win. I will always win. Every. Single. Time."

"So go ahead," He stepped towards Tallyho, right up until he was inches from her, eyes locked, ocean against green. The maelstrom would feast on itself tonight. "Kill me. You don't need an excuse, but I can give you one anyways. I'd do it myself, but suicide is not one of the three things I excel at, as you so nicely pointed out. Besides, you'd be doing everyone a huge favor. Even Xabi would be better off without me, since according to Kyle I'm what ruined him."

Empty forest against empty seas. Draining and draining. He wanted it. Wanted it more than ever. That sweet release. Maybe in an hour he'd regret. Maybe in five minutes. All the more reason to do it now while he still had the chance.

Locked and loaded. "Has your father ever called you a waste of space?" he asked simply, voice hollow. Emptying himself. Preparing. "Ever said you were a piece of shit worse than shit itself? Has he ever said he wished you weren't born? That they should have aborted you after all? That he wished you would get killed on the streets, or raped in prison, or thrown in the electric chair? Probably not." He pulled the trigger. "You'd need to have a father that cared in the first place."

Mentally he started a countdown. If that wasn't enough to kill him by the time he reached five, he was throwing a punch.

One.

Two.

Three...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Kyle did back down when Tallyho pushed him back, surprisingly more gently than he did with Harper earlier. There was something in the way she held herself or the steely tone of her voice that scared him a little. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. His mind provided. There had never been any evidence that Tallyho ever liked Harper, but she obviously didn't have to like him to feel that scorn. She hated him from the beginning, just like Kyle.

"I have a billion things to do that you dumb kids can never understand" was Harper's first complaint, and he never stopped complaining about them. Harper was always a million times better than anyone else ever born, in his own mind. Tallyho hit him dead on. The only thing the selfish bastard could say was it's not my fault I'm such a lousy person. My daddy never loved me... blah blah blah. Guess what, Harper, I never even knew my real daddy, but I don't cry about it. He thought about saying that, but seriously his family history wasn't any of that bastard's business. Kyle didn't want any pity for it either, so why did anyone else in that room need to know?

The jabs that bastard kept throwing his way pissed him off more. Jabs about his fears, his friends, and shoving his previous relationship with Skylar out there like a weapon against him. Every single person Harper ever met was just a tool for his own purposes, a toy to play with until he got bored. Skylar didn't deserve that. Skylar never deserved it! Xabier was an idiot to be with this arrogant bastard, but Kyle didn't think he deserved being used and thrown away either. Obviously, Tallyho would disagree with him, but he still didn't want to give up yet.

"Who cares what your stupid daddy did? You, yourself are the only person responsible for your own actions. My daddy taught me that. If I do something stupid, I have to pay the consequences whatever they are. You too have to pay the consequences for your actions and choices in the last three years and beyond. Guess what? That's what your looking at right now. Me, Tallyho and everyone else hate your guts because of your own actions. We don't care about your daddy issues."

The shorter blond turned his back completely to the selfish bastard without throwing the punch that bastard was asking for. He refused to be played like the others. Instead he paced over to Skylar again who was obviously uncomfortable. "I'm sorry for putting you in an uncomfortable position. Can you forgive me?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

(OOC: i'm putting a TRIGGER WARNING right here, just because I don't want anyone to read something they don't want to. There will be an attempted suicide in the following post involving a knife. For the record, I do not condone this behavior at all. If anyone at any point is ever contemplating suicide, please call a hotline or talk to someone to get help. While Harper's reasonings are his own and unique to him and may make sense in his mind, I personally do not feel that suicide is ever the solution to anything, and that it will always get better. I apologize in advance if Harper's actions upset anyone.)






Tallyho spoke. More salt in the wound. More misunderstandings. He was trying to provoke her. Trying to get her to hit him. To kill him. But it looked like he'd have to take matters into his own hands.

And then Kyle's words. Kyle's goddamn words. Taunting. Jeering. Condescending. Any other day, he'd probably fling himself onto the boy. Fists flying. But today was not any other day. This moment was not any other day.

This moment was the last.

"You see?" He asked Tallyho as she walked off, voice sounding more and more distant to his ears, "You want to talk about a lack of empathy? All of you are stunning, shining examples of it. At least I know I don't understand. All of you think you understand, when you know nothing at all. And when I try to shine some light on my situation, not for pity, not for forgiveness, just so you know an inch of what I'm going through, you just continue to kick shit in my face and refuse to think past your own stupid, hurt feelings. But who am I to have harsh feelings, when clearly all of you are so much more in the right? In fact, you know what?"

He grinned. "You're right." He spun around to face everyone, and roared, "You're all right!"

One laugh. One single, breathless laugh. "And I'm done."

He stormed off, walking the length of the table. He paused at the fruit, grabbing a pear and a small knife, peeling away at the skin as he stalked into the corner of the room farthest away from the others. He sat on the ground, cross-legged, facing the corner, back to the rest of the world.

Empty? They wanted empty? They wanted him to pay the consequences?

Three years. Talk about twenty five.

But no more. As he rolled up his sleeve to his elbow, he had made it up in his mind. He was going to pay all his debts right now.

He would have preferred drowning. But with the exit blocked, he'd need to make his own.

He looked at the knife. Metal shining. He was skilled in wood-craft. Surely human flesh wouldn't be that much different to work with?

He glanced at his arm. Took a breath. Briefly Sadie and Xabi popped in his mind, but he snuffed them out before Dorian and Skylar and more could appear. Now. He needed to do this now. Before he regretted it. Before he thought about it. Before he realized...

Two cuts, he interrupted. Two cuts. Just two....two cuts.

He rested the blade on his arm, near the inside of his elbow. Cold. It was cold.

The faces were coming back. Now. He needed to do it now.

Wordlessly, he stabbed it in. He did his best to keep still, hide the flinch, hide the wince. Bit his tongue. Clenched his jaw. He worked the knife deeper and forward, a cold pain train chugging towards his wrist, screaming silently at its arrival. Red spilled out, dripping down his arms, spilling onto the floor. Even if he was prepared to die, he'd be damned if he got blood on this suit while he was still alive.

First his arm. Then his throat, to make sure.

Then finally, finally...he'd be done.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Gwenneth Yuan
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

(Same warnings as Cirrus vaguely apply. All Harper actions and dialogue dictated by Cirrus because for some reason she trusted me to write this. )

At the moment, Dorian, and he assumed Skylar as well, felt something like a child caught in the midst of a nasty divorce hearing (something he'd never experienced, of course. His own parents' divorce had been done with a clinical detachment and neatness that had probably left more mental scars than a heated custody battle ever could). It was like a disturbingly violent tennis match (or like those poo-flinging monkeys at the zoo) of Harper throwing past situations at Tallyho that Dorian didn't quite imagine as relevant and turning on everyone in the room individually. Well, he was more arguing with Kyle and Tallyho and using Skylar and Dorian as props in his rant.

"I can't call you friend because I don't push my nose into your business?"

Dorian stared at Harper's back as he turned, not giving the March Warrior a chance to answer what he was beginning to suspect was a rhetorical question. It wasn't that he so much objected to Harper not "nosing into his business". That was all well and good, it was the whole having no idea what he was up to that was a bit concerning. He couldn't even remember the last time they'd talked, not even just one-on-one but in a group. Dorian wasn't an expert on friendship or anything, but Harper's Dorian-retort fell flat for him, much like it did for Skylar whose reaction to the "side dish" comment went unnoticed by Harper as well. And then it continued on, a barrage of words and sneered insults. Dorian was beginning to eye the door himself, wondering how far he could make it before Mildred caught him. He paused before deciding that he'd rather face whatever was happening in here.

Skylar, at least, seemed to be on the same wave-length as him, and he really did feel bad for her. Here she was, thrust in the middle of everything without anyone really listening to her leaving her between a rock and a hard place.

Tallyho barely acknowledged her as she rallied again, hurling more barbed insults and bitter truths at the June Month Warrior as the month warrior tradition of never letting anyone else get the last word in continued along. Something electric was in the air, something dangerous that had nothing to do with Tallyho's own powers. He knew what was coming as Tallyho's words continued to slam into their mark, brutalizing the other month warrior. He braced for it like a sailor in an unavoidable storm. Then it struck.

Dorian had always wished that Harper applied trigger warning to the start of his speeches, the ones where he tended to reveal something awful about himself. It didn't have to be much- just a little "Those of you with issues with X, please cover your ears" or more specifically "I'm about to mention awful things that make Dorian uncomfortable like excessively bad parenting and self-hatred- please, leave the room if you are Dorian". But he didn't, which left Dorian feeling a bit sick to his stomach and more than a little upset.

Dorian would be the first to admit that he had issues of his own, even if they weren't as glaringly obvious as, say, Kyle's or Harper's. His abandonment issues would be(and were) a psychiatrist's wet dream(Stephen, as he insisted Dorian call him, often objected to that phrasing but his father thought it was funny so he kept it), he still had vivid nightmares after the two or so months he'd spent wandering Aires when the magic portal had messed up that no one had bothered talking to him about, and his dependency on his phone was becoming incredibly concerning. He just hid it a bit better, but the way Harper was going on made his own level of discomfort rise to the point that it actually became visible. It wasn't pity on his face or sympathy, just pure, distilled discomfort for your viewing pleasure. Dorian's left hand began trailing up the doorknob, groping for it blindly in case he needed to make a quick exit.

The other man, Dorian was well aware, was a complex combination of self-awareness, self-loathing, and overconfidence blended and contained within a confrontational shell with a dash of motor-mouth. This assault was his coup-de-gras so to speak, intended to make anyone who summoned up a reply look like they were kicking a puppy and, if things turned violent, he'd solve his own need for self-punishment without having to actually inflict it himself. This could only end badly.

And it did because Kyle opened his mouth again, and, okay, yeah, Dorian agreed with him to an extent in that you really can't blame others for everything that you did and you had to take responsibility for your actions. But, honestly, disregarding "daddy issues" as Kyle had so eloquently put it wasn't on. Maybe that was Dorian "mommy issues" talking or maybe it was a bit of human decency, but it struck a raw nerve in him. Also, he wasn't quite fond of Kyle talking for him. Yeah, Harper wasn't his favorite person right now, not by a long shot, but he didn't hate anyone on the team, really, although that was clearly subject to change.

And then things got better as Harper shuffled away with a fruit in his hand and a parring knife in the other, apparent content to lick his own wounds instead of retorting or acknowledging Tallyho's final barb. It was surprisingly mature and calm. That should have been Dorian's first clue that something was terribly wrong.

It was hard to see what was happening from his angle, but the startling red that popped into existence was as telling as if he'd seen the knife perform itself.

"Harper!" He barked out, apparently not stunned into silence as he bolted for the sitting man. By the time Harper, all panicked and wide-eyed with fear not of Dorian but that he would stop him, had stopped the cut on his arm prematurely and instead brought the knife to his throat, Dorian was on him, wrestling the knife from his hands amidst Harper's protests of "I know what I'm doing. I know what I'm fucking doing! It's my life, I can do what I want with it! Just let me have this one fucking thing!" along with Dorian's own flurry of "let go, you absolute bastard"s. He put up a powerful fight, wild and frantic like a cornered animal, but Dorian didn't relent. Dorian's palm got sliced open in the melee, tossing the knife across the room until it slid harmlessly against the other wall, ruby red still decorating the blade.

Formal wear was not meant to wrestle in, but Dorian eventually had him pinned, arms tightly wrapped around the shorter man like a vice-grip, effectively pinning the other man's arms to his sides. It was sad that this wasn't the worst hug he'd ever been a part of in his life.

"Why do you even care? Apparently we're not even friends! Why do you even fucking care? If we didn't have the fucking world on our shoulders, you wouldn't even care! I don't even care! Why the fuck do you care?"

Harper was crying now, ugly sobs that wracked his body.

"I care, goddammit! I'd care even if you weren't a month warrior. t don't have to have a reason!" Dorian snarled, tightening his grip. He, quite unlike almost everyone else in the room, didn't feel the need to monologue about his feelings and/or issues. Some things he just didn't feel the need to explain.

"I don't want this. I don't fucking want this anymore. I hate this. I hate this so fucking much."

And Dorian didn't know what to say to that, so instead he held on tighter, one hand rubbing soothing circles on the bawling man's back in mimicry of what his father had always done for him back on Earth. His hand stung- the hand, incidentally, not rubbing Harper's back-, his pants were still too form-fitting for his comfort, his headache was coming back, and he had a sobbing and possibly still suicidal mess in his arms. Today was not his day.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Autumn Jones Character Portrait: Falke der Herrscher Character Portrait: Xabier Sanchez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

The atmosphere was a little warmer and slightly more friendly than he had anticipated.
Xabier wasn't going to hold his breath however. As he had promised himself he would excuse himself from the conversation the moment things got awkward.
Believe it or not, he wasn't trying to make enemies.
“Delightful.”
It felt nice that his conversation wasn't immediately rejected.
Until he heard her mutter something about a "son-of-a-bitch."
Okay. Harsh. He was only making casual conversation.
His eyebrows furrowed momentarily in confusion. Women, he had gathered, were confusing creatures.
It was only when she mentioned something about bad news that he shrugged it off.

Xabier wondered what the others were up to in the other room. He wondered if they had Banya flavoured cake in the other room like they did in this one. The dark haired lad had tried a slice as he stood alone. He kinda missed Harper, which was stupid because it wasn't like the older lad was going anywhere.

“Anyways, yeah. I didn't expect it to be that fun. Some of the nobles were a little stiff, and by that I mean I might have accidentally talked to a dead guy, but hey that's just part of life!”
He laughed a little at Autumn's observation of the nobles. It was true. Some of them had given him the creeps at times.
"Oh, really? The ones I spoke to were all charming conversationalists...."
Xabier feigned playful surprise. Eyebrows elevated slightly and the corner of his mouth turned up. He lowered his voice significantly as if he was telling a juicy secret so only Autumn and Falke could hear. "..if you count a sneeze or cough every twenty minutes or so, thought provoking..."

He didn't expect a response but smiled anyway. If he ignored the tension of the past few months he could almost pretend that things were the way they were in the Academy.
Before it burned down and everything shifted in his world.

He brought up something to do with the food being delicious in the palace and something about the royal family being such gracious hosts (he put that part in for the benefit of anyone listening in.)
But something kept bugging him about what Autumn had said. It was probably nothing or something completely unrelated to him. However, it was a niggling little feeling that wouldn't go away.
Xabier lowered his voice again.
"You said something about bad news...I hope you don't mind but is everything alright?"
His face showed some genuine concern as he mulled it over.
Not that he was close to the November warrior but it didn't hurt to check if she was alright.
It was his first instinct to assume that sickness was the bad news.
"You're not feeling unwell are you? I know it's an important day but you can always rest for a bit."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Autumn Jones Character Portrait: Xabier Sanchez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Linnea
Autumn chuckled at the conversation, keeping note of whatever news the spirits brought her. The situation was only getting worse. At this point, would keeping the conversation in the room light even help?

“The dancing was a lot more difficult than I expected. It's like, I can fight in a dress but ask me to dance and suddenly i'm like a toddler on rollerskates.” She smiled and silently wished that the situation in the other room would calm down.

Naturally, Xabier just had to ask what was going on. Autumn didn't blame him. If he knew some secret about the other room, she would have wanted to know. Except, would she want to know this?

Blood had been spilled.

Autumn let out a small sigh and smiled.

“Oh, i'm fine. I just heard some bad news from the spirits. They keep me in check a lot about things going on around me. It's nothing to be worried about though.” What else could she say? It wasn't as if she could tell Xabier that his boyfriend was suicidal. What if he tried to break the door down? What if he got in the way of other people trying to help? What if things got even worse? She felt for Xabier, but she couldn't let him know with those possibilities in the air.

Speaking of, she couldn't let things continue the way they were. Though to everyone around her it seemed like she was just turning her head to consider eating a small pear, she was draining the energy of Harper in the other room. It wouldn't hurt him. It would just tire him out so that he couldn't keep fighting.

Autumn wasn't fond of doing this. It was a move reserved for enemies. But, at this point, wasn't Harper an enemy? He was a threat to the group. He was a threat to their namesake. All threats had to be dealt with, right? Xabier was going to hate her for this, she just knew it. Maybe the others would hate her, too. She didn't particularly care. It was for the good of the group. If they couldn't see it, that was just too bad.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

He must have lost blood faster than he thought he would, because between Dorian not letting go and the door opening he felt hinself growing inexplicably weaker and weaker by the second. Shoulders slumped, muscles relaxed...everything grew heavier.

The emotions were still there. The same, but now slowed, as if corn syrup had been poured on them.

Too tired to fight. He nearly fell over when he was dragged up from the floor and escorted out. They had to wake him up after bandaging his arm.

Numb. And buzzing. Hazy. He yawned during Mildred's snappy reminder to behave. He nearly tripped on stage when they filed out. And it took every ounce of his already handicapped concentration to keep from collapsing during the ceremony.

They should have just let me bleed out, he thought.. They should have just ended his suffering now. He wasnt right for this. He was never right for this. And it was now clear more than ever that everyone hated him. Or they would now, once word got out.

Except for Dorian. But even then, you could care for a complete stranger and still not want to associate with them ever again.

Bitter words. Those hurt more than anything Tallyho or Kyle had said.

Yet it killed him that he was still affected by them.

Finally they were shuffled off stage, but Haru didnt seem to be finished with them. He wanted to know what had happened. Or rather, once in a closed room, what the fuck had happened.

Harpers first thought was that no one would say because they wouldnt want to get in troubles for nearly causing a suicide. But then it hit him. Who was to say Haru didnt hate his guts either? Hell, maybe hed congratulate Tallyho for putting him in his place. Maybe offer a couple words of "save the death threats for after you save the world". And then he would just turn on him. Yell at him for jeopardizing everything. For being so selfish. For being so weak. And stupid. It was his fault, naturally. His fingerprints were on the knife after all.

He'd had enough of being yelled at for today. He just wanted to sleep. Or get drunk. Or maybe sneak out to the ocean, where he could properly do himself in without Dorian interfering.

So in a flat, quiet voice, Harper answered Haru's question. "Nothing," he said, "Nothing happened. I was just being stupid. Like always."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Autumn Jones Character Portrait: Haru Karokav Character Portrait: Xabier Sanchez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Xabier smiled at her (this time a real one) and told her he was glad to hear that things were fine. The bad feeling didn't leave but he just ignored it.
"Well if you say it isn't important then it isn't."
Instead of pursuing it further, the Spaniard brought up a story of the time his twin brothers swapped names for a day and how it drove all of the adults insane trying to figure out who was who. He laughed a little at the fond memory and proceeded to ask both of them about their families. It was basic small talk.
After about a couple of minutes of conversation he decided to make do with his promise of leaving swiftly.
"Well, it has been charming but I think I should g-"
As he said it, they were called up to start the mass/ceremony/thing.
"Ah, duty awaits."
He was placed between Falke and Autumn again in the line-up on the platform. All the faces in the crowd seemed to be very rich and very important. Royalty and noblemen alike all watched as the warriors took a sip of the wine from the chalice. The Guardians of all of the other warriors also stood in their finery.
Xabier just occasionally smiled shyly as he took it all in.
The crowds and all of the attention were pushing out any warning signs from the forefront of his mind: the bad news that Autumn spoke of, the somber mood coming from the other room, Harper tripping on the stage and acting like he was half dead.
"Is he drunk?" Xabier muttered to himself quietly.
Soon it was finally over but the exuberant mood didn't last. In fact when he saw Haru's face the penny dropped.
Something had happened. Something bad.

"What the fuck happened, I said?!”

Xabier was also wondering the exact same thing.

Harper was in totally different clothes than before and the expression on his face....well it chilled Xabier to the bone.
The jigsaw puzzle was slowly falling into place, piece by piece.

The October Warrior went immediately to his side. Worry clouded his features. It wasn't like Harper to be like this, especially straight after acting so pleased earlier on.
"Qué pasó? Harper, what is it? And don't tell me it's nothing because I'm not stupid." Eyes wide and not a single smile to be found.
His hands reached for his boyfriend to try somehow comfort him. A million questions swirled in his empty head.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

“An uncomfortable position? It’s like we’re playing monkey in the fucking middle and I’m the monkey!” Skylar snapped, her calm façade crumbling. She really hadn’t meant for her reply to come off so harshly, but at this point she was so frustrated that she was finding it increasingly difficult to try and play nice.

Nobody had bothered to ask her how she felt about all of this (or even Dorian for that matter). No, she was merely a name to throw into an argument, to justify a point being made. Tallyho suddenly found it her business to indirectly defend Skylar’s honor even though the February warrior had barely spoken a word to her the past three years, Harper had ignored her plea for them to stop bickering, and Kyle thought that he could freely insult her best friend and then give her a half-assed apology to make up for it.

So it was no surprise when Harper stormed off after his latest meltdown, the tension obvious in the now dead air. But Skylar never could have prepared herself for what happened next, the sound of Dorian shouting the older male’s name dragging her attention towards the corner where the two of them sat.

"I know what I'm doing. I know what I'm fucking doing! It's my life, I can do what I want with it! Just let me have this one fucking thing!"

The knife Harper had been holding slid across the floor, and it was the sight of the blood staining the blade that led Skylar to put two and two together.

The feelings of anger and frustration she had been feeling mere moments before were quickly replaced by shock and denial, her heart dropping in her chest as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

“Harper?!” The venom had left her voice, replaced by a tone of desperation. Before she could even say anything else, Mildred had entered the room.

“What’s going on here? What are you doing?”

Tallyho replied to the older woman so simply, acting as if her teammate hadn’t just tried to slice himself up like a Christmas ham. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in the blonde’s voice, and while it was obvious that she hated Harper, Skylar couldn't believe that she could be so casual about what had just happened.

If Skylar had thought that things in the room were awkward, nothing could have prepared her for the actual ceremony. Situated between Kyle and Harper, she kept her eyes down, only looking up when it was her turn to drink from the chalice.

By the time the warriors were escorted backstage and it was clear that Harper was okay (physically at least), Skylar’s shock had turned back to anger.

“I want to know the same fucking thing,” Skylar hissed, her voice laced with anger. She cast a glance towards the others, mouth set in a firm line. “You might want to ask Tallyho and Kyle.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Autumn Jones
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Dorian wasn't quite sure what was more horrific- holding onto the still writhing and sobbing Harper for dear life or Mildred's shrieks of dismay from somewhere behind him. It was a chilling noise, and even if he hadn't heard he words, he would have known the meaning. It was the same shrill scream that children everywhere knew in their primal minds from centuries of mothers (and the occasional father and/or other family member because, really, we must be inclusive) bemoaning ruined clothes and promising a vengeance so cruel that only a parent could have thought of it (such as the horrors of no dessert for a month or, in more extreme cases, personally explaining to Aunt Mildred why exactly you're not wearing that nice outfit she personally bought for you).

Her next words, a sharp demand as to what exactly was happening, had Dorian realize two things at the same time. One, he was liberally smeared with blood that was generally not his own, and, two, he knew exactly what they must look like from Mildred's perspective, Dorian wrestling Harper on the ground while the other man sobbed and bled willy-nilly all over the nice rug that coated the floor. Well, he thought grimly as he opened his mouth to explain, at least his friends back home had just been proven wrong. He could, in fact, look scarier if he tried, if by trying they meant rolling around in a puddle of fresh blood while wrapped around a suicidal and royally-freaking-out person. Which they probably didn't.

He was beaten to the punch when Tallyho stepped in, voice as calm and nonchalant as could be. Dorian found himself staring at her blasé explanation, watching each grape pop into her mouth like she was at a particularly dull dinner party and wasn't currently a few feet away from what had just happened. He pursed his lips and turned his head back towards Mildred. Just because he was fond of Tallyho didn't mean he had to blindly approve of everything she did or how she felt. The fact that Tallyho had never asked him to was probably why they got along so well.

As soon as Mildred swooped in, her task-force of knights following her commands like she was a great general and not just the world's best Mildred, Dorian released Harper, saw him get carted away for medical attention (and he apparently needed it because all of the fight seemed to have drained out of him) before he himself was swept away. He was in a slight daze as they moved, his head throbbing incessantly with his quickly resurfacing headache. His hand was bandaged once, then twice after the blood had soaked through the first white cloth, and the rest of the bloody event was scrubbed from his body quickly and efficiently. Still, he could smell the iron tang lingering in his nose as new clothes were thrust into his arms. They were fine, not nearly as extravagant and lovely as the now sad looking outfit that had been thrown into a corner in their haste to clean him up and make him look presentable. Hair was combed, clothing was replaced, and then he was thrust back in line, standing behind Tallyho and in front of Kyle. Mildred threw one last biting order at them that, really, Dorian didn't find all that necessary at this point (or maybe that was just the twin aches of his head and his hand talking) before they were once more moving into the limelight.

Trumpets were blaring, the room was filled to capacity with very important people all crowded together to see them. Princess Morgan was waving, and he even caught a glimpse of Trent in the crowd (he was decidedly not waving excitedly like his cousin (although, if he had been, Dorian would have been incredibly concerned). There were the Guardians as well and he knew Ryou was trying to catch his eye, but he instead stared resolutely ahead. It was enough to have glimpsed a friendly face, albeit the face of someone who had no idea what had just happened.

Wine was sipped, vows were intoned, and then suddenly there was cheering like they'd actually done something to deserve it. Well, alright, they kind of had what with the whole Flock thing, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Dorian was in a bad mood, all of this noise felt like it was physically hitting him in the head, and he was starting to bleed through his bandage again. Things couldn't get much worse.

That was a lie. That was an absolute lie, Dorian thought miserably as Haru appeared to corral them. Haru was blocking the door, a demand to know what had happened flying sharply from his tongue, paired with a glare so intense that it could set a man on fire at fifty paces. Yes, none of this had technically been Dorian's fault and all he'd done was save Harper's life and keep people from bolting out the door every ten seconds, but under that fury-filled gaze he felt like he'd committed high treason and also maybe kicked a puppy (or a cat, given, well, Haru).

Haru was waiting for an explanation, and Harper's piss-poor shrug of an answer, drowning in enough self-pity and misery that Dorian started glancing around to see if there was another make-shift weapon nearby he had to be concerned about. He held no illusions that Harper was "better", just more exhausted. Xabier was experiencing some kind of tunnel vision, hurrying to Harper's side like they were the only two in the room. Dorian wasn't sure how he was ignoring Haru's gaze or the absolute tension in the room, but the Spaniard apparently could handle it.

Dorian stood there like a statue. It was his only defense. That is, of course, until no one readily answered. He glanced around before Skylar spoke up, voice stained with all the anger and disdain that he was relatively sure she felt at this point. In the insanity that had followed the room incident, he was sure she'd had no comfort after not only being tossed in the middle of things, but also since her best friend was, well... He glanced at Harper and mentally resolved that when they got back- and it was always when now, not if- he'd be sending out some good psychiatric recommendations.

Still, Skylar didn't answer either and there was silence, awkward and painful in that way that tense situations always are. God, his head ached, the blood flow on his hand was only just now slowing into a trickle, and there was enough tension in the room to cut it with a knife- it was thicker than pea soup. Yes. That was a better analogy today.

"There was an argument. I don't know why it started, but Kyle pushed Harper-" Dorian's head shot up at the sudden voice before realizing it was his own. His mouth, however, didn't stop as he continued on, voice pained but persistent, speeding up in an attempt to just get it out there because he didn't want another argument to erupt with Haru this close to physically exploding.

"Then Tallyho suddenly told Harper exactly what she thought of him and then the three of them started arguing with Kyle threatening Harper and Harper and Tallyho monologuing at each other until because all of them wanted to have the last word. Then, I don't know, I guess what they were saying hit too hard, Harper reacted badly, and he tried to..." He trailed off, unwilling to use those words when the suicidal man himself was standing not four feet away, "And I stopped him. Three years worth of animosity finally boiled over and this cluster fuck of an evening happened."

There were parts left out- of course there were. No love triangles were mentioned, no accusatory fingers were pointed at Xabier who'd popped up in conversation more than once, no content of accusations or defenses made themselves known, no mentions were made of what or how Harper cracked. It was boiled down to its essence of harsh words and bad reactions because in Dorian's heart of hearts he thought that everything that had happened after his little conversation with Tallyho was really fucking stupid. Not "idiotic", not "senseless arguing and violence". No. Dorian's head hurt and he'd just barely kept someone from committing suicide. Really fucking stupid was the only way to describe the situation.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Harper was so withdrawn into himself that Xabi's presence, unfortunately, did little to nothing to alleviate his pain. If anything, it only made him angrier. Why. Why did this guy have to care for him? Why couldn't he just hate him like everyone else? Why did he have to remind him just how stupid he was with what he nearly succeeded in doing?

He clenched his teeth against each other hard to prevent tears.

Stupid. So stupid. He was so, so, incredibly stupid. Mentally he had an image of himself ripping apart the bandage right then and there, digging fingers into the wound, willing the red to return, just to escape this terrible feeling. But he was too tired and physically exhausted to go through with it. The conviction wasn't there. And so he stayed still. Standing and not reciprocating. Eyes on his shoes.

Skylar spoke. Angry. Who was she angry at? Him? Or Tallyho and Kyle? He couldn't be sure.

There was silence. He could have laughed. As if calling those two out would prompt a response.

And then finally, Dorian to the rescue. As was the norm lately. Bare bones. Basic summary. Harper was fine with it. Nothing to argue with. Even if he wasn't fine with it, he still was.

He'd hoped that'd be the last of it, but Haru apparently wasn't done with them. He dismissed everyone BUT the three involved. All three of which were the last people Harper wanted to be around. When Haru told them to sit somewhere, Harper sat as far away from them as possible. Arms crossed. Legs folded in, shoes on top of the upholstery. Eyes staring at a spot on the floor. A direct contradiction to his usual splayed out style of sitting.

But despite his distance, the room was only so big, and he could still hear every word Haru was saying. Like it or not.

Harper tried to stay indifferent. He didn't want to know about these people. All that mattered was that Kyle never liked him, and apparently neither had Tallyho. That was easy. That was simple. Digestable.

But as Haru went on, the June warrior found bits and pieces in all of them that he could relate to. Kyle's difficulties in school. Tallyho's running away and inability to collaborate. The lack of friends prior to this entire shitstorm. And, as Haru mentioned, they apparently all had daddy issues.

Yes, let's just talk about how much we hate our dads why don't we Harper thought sarcastically, I'm sure that'll solve so much. Family bonding time and all that jazz.

And then Haru got to him. And yes, at first, despite the cat's disclaimer, Harper did initially think he was attacking him. Especially with that line, "You want to be noticed."

Why. Why did everyone think he was such an attention whore? Yeah, he got attention, but not because he asked for it! He wasn't some master manipulator scheming of ways to get all the attention to him. He just did what he did and if he got attention, so be it! If people felt like they didn't matter, that wasn't his fault.

But amid the louder, self-righteous mental squalling, a quieter voice nodded slightly. And when Haru mentioned his parents, it suddenly became clear. How much he had tried to please his father, since his own mother was too vapid and caught up in her own issues to be really worth the effort. How he simultaneously did and didn't want the attention they put on him. How upset he had gotten at each missed competition. Each missed assembly. The moment his father had written him off as a lost cause. The year after that Harper had scrambled to make it up to him. To really make a difference. And when that gave no fruit, the subsequent years afterwards when he spiraled backwards. Forced his dad to notice him. Even if, at the time, he had wanted his dad to stay out his business, now he was realizing. What was the point of an action, if not for the reaction? Why put in the effort, after all, if no one was there to notice it in the first place?

It was his first personal epiphany since the jail cell, and considerably less jarring. In fact, the thought was so easily adaptable that Harper realized that perhaps he had always known this, deep down. Which only made it ring truer for him.

Steadily, anger flowed out of him as Haru continued speaking, this time on the reason for all the hate. Harper listened, and saw the pattern of it all being that he would do something without realizing its effects and the others would take it personally. Haru mentioned the rift with Kyle being easy to mend, a matter of simply addressing the Xabi issue (which, by now, they should probably just go public with it since private clearly didn't work out). But Harper felt it wouldn't actually be that simple. Kyle had hated him long before he had dated Xabi.

And then with Tallyho it just seemed like the things she was mad at him for he couldn't really change. Even Haru mentioned this. And here Harper was growing frustrated with it all. Yes, perhaps his actions were the root of all this. But even if he changed--which certainly wasn't going to be easy or happen overnight--or at least put in the effort, who was to say that Kyle and Tallyho would reciprocate? What if he really tried to be a better person, and they still hated him? Still saw him as a disgusting person? Still thought he hadn't changed a bit?

It was easier to just stay the way he was. Safer. Less of a gamble. At least here he knew now exactly how they felt about him. And, with Haru's help, why. That was simpler to deal with. Just stay the bad guy. Know your role. Play the part, and shrug off the consequences because they were meant for the act. Not for you personally.

It was what he had planned on doing in the first place, if Tallyho's words hadn't been so on point.

And yes, he had resigned himself to continue this pattern. To keep being the asshole. To suck it up until they all got to go home and then block all memories from his mind forever.

But then...as Haru was finishing his speech...Harper heard words that had rarely been said to him.

"Harper, you have a good heart."

Harper, you have a good heart....you have a good heart...those simple words bounced around in his head. Not only did they insinuate that he had a heart to begin with (in the metaphorical sense of course), but that it was also good. A good heart. A good...heart...

The words that followed seemed to support that statement, and even that last criticism didn't feel like one. He was too wrapped up in those first few words.

Did he really? Did he really have a good heart? Was loving your sister really enough reason for that? He wanted to believe Haru, but he also wanted to demand further explanations. Why did he think he had a good heart? What were the reasonings? What exactly constituted it? What factors went into play that Haru could make a judgement call like that? What was the criteria a heart had to meet in order for it be 'good'? And was his like a C- good heart, one that barely met the standard, or was it above average?

Lying...he's lying to me... he thought bitterly, Just trying to make me feel better. But it was working. If this was a lie, it was the best kind. Something he could choose to believe in, to cheer himself up when he was down. At least Haru said you had a good heart that one time.

But if it was truth, then it was the worst kind of truth. If he was supposed to have a good heart, then why was he so terrible? What excuse did he have anymore for acting the way he did?

A good heart. You have a good heart.

For a moment he desperately wanted to deny it. Throw those words from him. Of course he didn't have a good heart! He was empty. Empty and soulless and...and evil and...and a whole plethora of terrible things. Why, he would laugh at their deaths! Of course he would! He didn't need anyone! Didn't care about anyone!

But those arguments sounded flat in his mind. Lacked foundation. He knew they weren't true. For so long he had deluded himself into believing the act he put on, as well as the layers underneath. He tried not to care what others said, but he did care. To the point where every negative thing ever said to him he just absorbed. Insults hurt less when you own them. Yet he had owned the negative so much that the positive was almost unbelievable. Even if it were true.

Harper, you have a good heart.

Great. He was crying now. Fuck.

He glanced up at the ceiling, trying to force the tears back in. Sentiment. It was always the fucking sentiment. With a shuddering sigh, he brought both palms to his eyes and breathed in through his nose. Exhaled through the mouth. Wiped the tears away in one firm swipe, only to have more return when he blinked. He sniffed. Fixed his red-eyed gaze on Haru.

"Anything else?" he croaked out, stretching his legs out in front of him, arms returning to their crossed position, "Or are we done?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skylar Grayson Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Autumn Jones Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Lillian held a callous disregard for other people's feeling at face value. What was beneath the skin wasn't a concern in the greater scheme of the world, or their duties quite often. However, she was not ignorant to Nikita's reluctance to change the subject as quickly as she had, nor the old memories lurking in the depths of the other guardian's eyes, and silently took note of it for reference later on. It would do well to have such information in order to arrange a heart to heart if the need ever arouse.

Eventually Nikita excepted her subject change and compliments on her fair green dress, passing off her finished drink and answer shrugging her last question, "It's nice, but, I think I would enjoy it more in a previous life." "Would not we all?" Lillian twittered, a higher, amused lit echoing in her tone. Amusement? Yes, an actual jest twittering from her lips! While it wasn't necessarily the whole truth for her in any of the ages she had lived in (except the second, but that was only if September had made it clear that no one would treat her any differently or face his wrath); she could joke on it, all the same.

"Ahh," Lillian paused, musing. As the amusement faded quickly, into a silent flash of determination in a solid line upon her lips and calm yet clever eyes that had spotted a suitable shift in the play of the crowd around them. She could make her escape as it were, easily enough without attracting unwanted attention, to the door and head to her own room for the night. "I've grown weary of the night, m'dear. I apologize Nikita, if you'll excuse me." She spoke gently, patting the other guardian's arm in farewell, before disappearing into the crowd, following her assumed exit path.

...

Falke took the glasses of weak wine from Kyle and passed them to a passing server, as the younger blonde caved and disappeared into the crowd to dance with Skylar. Free from member's of the groups' attention for a time, he spent the time idly surveying the crowd. Making necessary small talk with passing party goers that focused on him immediately knowing who he was as they came and went, and humored Xabier in his talks of odd family traditions (and yes they were odd, but they were very Spanish). It wasn't long before the night was over, and he was able to escape to the quiet and peace of an empty, lonely room.

---

The next day began early. Pins and needles. Tailors poking and pinning extravagant outfits unto the warriors as they were all prepared for their big ceremony. As always, during the past few days, Mildred took personal charge of the event - from the outfits, to decorations and flower arrangements, how they would move and act - she should have been the Queen or Lady in waiting with the amount of respect she owned and duties that were given to her to complete flawlessly.

Falke was dressed in possibly the darkest colors Mildred had put on him to date (especially after the announcement that he was going to be a darling of the city, dressed in whites and silvers and golds), or well, technically really only the bottom half was darker. With knee-high, dark leather boots, without the brace for the first time in ages (because really, she had insisted, it did not make the fashion statement Mildred wanted), and black, needlessly tight, pants with gold and silver stripes down the leg seam; it left the memory of light, golden browns and whites behind. As for the top, it still fit the bill of the original plan, with the doublet being a tint of a brownish gold matching the leg stripes - textured with a speckling of white, reminiscent of a nightly starscape. A two inch silver sash, matching the other leg stripes, wrapped around his left shoulder and right hip; was pinned near the middle of his chest with a large, silver brooch, featuring an extravagant star sapphire in its' center, the only jewel on his person denoting who he was (save the real one, hidden underneath white silk gloves).

He had an apple in hand, tossing it into the air every so often (not quite hungry enough to eat it, and there was really too much food for simply snacks at the table anyway) checking his reflexes idly as they waited. A comfortable perch on the edge of a chair. And a free hand every so often tugging at the golden seams of the high collar presently choking him to slowly but steadily loosen it in the interests of breathing. No one really to talk to, but past the time until the ceremony, or so he thought...

Autumn had approached with a soft hello, and an oddly dim mental presence - that caused a slight narrowing of his eyes, as he glanced away from his game with his apple to regard her evenly. It was curious at once that she'd come to him to talk with, but the dim mental presence was interesting as well. In close proximity, even without contact, people like Autumn and her personality type, he could hear them right away and ignore as necessary. "Hello," Falke replied softly, with a brow raised. He felt it again, the mental presence dim but insistently attempting to be heard. Ahh, she was trying to talk with him, privately. Warily, he focused his abilities in order to listen.

/I'm so sorry to bother you...\

Falke blinked in surprise at the static resistance he felt over everything she was saying. They hadn't communicated in this manner before, other than battle, but he could usually hear loud and clear if he needed to. He figured he just needed to delve deeper into her mind in order to hear her better, but could not shake the awful and uncomfortable situation raising the hairs up on the back of his neck as he did.

/It’s just that I really don’t want to be forced into an uncomfortable situation with Xabier. I know it’s a bit of a burden, but please. I had to dance with Xabier last night and I do not want that to happen again. Save me?\

Now it was his turn to reply, and Falke furrowed his brow further, before idly responding. /Save you? We're already stuck in an uncomfortably confining room already for the next 30 minutes. How would I-...? \ Focused as he was on their conversation, he hadn't quite noticed Xabier coming up until it was entirely too late to really do anything about it. His mental aura spoke strongly for his reasons to come over, trying to forcibly patch the holes in the leaking boat of his relations with everyone else that had fallen relatively flat since him and Harper had been, well, been together more or less. He didn't really dislike anyone to an extent, but he was not going to be faking emotions for anyone either.

/Wow I am so sorry Falke. I hoped I could avoid stuff. I didn't mean to get you caught in it.\
/Too late...\
"Ah hey guys, last night was quite fun, huh?"
"Delightful."

"Fei..." He responded with a shrug. It wasn't fun, nor really delightful. Eye opening per say, certainly. But 'eh' for him in all reality, for one that clearly did not like the attention nor the social scene that everyone knew who the little blind boy that was the most likely to kick the bucket by the end (or before) of this journey was from the start.

The rest of the time before the ceremony was spent making idle small talk between both Xabier and Autumn about the night before, and desperately ignoring what was happening in the other room as best as he was able too. What came in his head, stayed in his head as far as he was concerned. And he happened to agree with Autumn's assumption that it would be more of a blessing than a curse to keep their room vaguely sane comparably. If she wasn't going to tell him, then he sure as hell wasn't going to either.

...

(WIP CEREMONY)

...

“What happened?”

Falke flinched, and his cheek-line visibly paled. It should not have been a surprise, if technically a rare occurrence of his to let such an obviously guilty conscience display so readily across his facial features, considering he was emotional comprised; just being in the general vicinity of the volatile thoughts and emotions of the group it was a surprise he wasn't breaking down and shaking in panic, and/or pain. Nor was it a surprise to have Haru waiting to meet the group as they walked off from the ceremony stage, and quickly directed them into the room July-December (the more sane half of the group one could say, at the current time anyhow) had resided in for the 45 minutes with little more than forced, awkward conversation, forcing himself to ignore as best as he was able too with what was happening in the other room, and no bloodshed.

“What the fuck happened, I said?!”

Haru was now blocking the door, demanding an answer, pairing the harshness of his tongue with an intense glare searing them all. Falke gave a soft but funny little gasp, and had enough presence of mind left to sit down quickly in an open chair. Fingers curled into his hair absently, endearingly displacing whatever sort of hairstyle Mildred had been going for, hands covering his face, and elbows rested on his kneecaps. Barely managing not to faint, as he strove to simply focus on anything and everything his mind could grasp unto as a distraction from the people around him; shutting down (mostly) his abilities as quickly as he could.

Falke did not bother to answer Haru waiting for an explanation. Even when it would have been easy for him to give a long or short answer regarding the situation that happened. He had not been apart of that room or its' issues in the first place. Secondly, by the minor mental confirmation earlier between Autumn and himself in regards to keeping the fine, poison laced civility in their room afloat without conflict (ie. if you're not going to tell Xabier, I'm sure as hell not). And lastly, well... It hurt. After nearly three and half years he'd spent with the various group members - ranging from the warriors themselves, to the guardians, their teachers, other students, etc - his powers had developed, connections became stronger. The people around him were drowning in tension, deep, under the skin, befuddling his mind enough already. He did not feel the need to relive it in high definition.

Harper, surprisingly or not, exhausted as he; was the first to offer an answer to Haru's demand. While true to an extent, it was so piss-poor basic it didn't accurately give the red haired guardian a true summary of the event that had occurred. But given his mental condition, exhausted of course but not 'okay' by any means, one could not really expect anymore from him. Xabier quickly rushing to his side, as if they were the only two in the room, ignoring Haru, the question he'd asked, and the uneasy cloud that had fallen across them all in the room. Skylar was next, not truly answering either, as she hissed hot, angry air through her teeth as she called about Tallyho and Kyle to answer (or really, confess technically) their parts in it all as well. Dorian, at last, spoke up evenly persistent as he summarized the stupid situation as it had occurred, with parts left out of course but the gist was there.

“Wait what? You have got to be kidding me. Okay you people, everyone but those three: Harper, Tallyho, Kyle. Get out. Go on the dance floor. Don’t get into any trouble. Don’t ask questions. You’re not in trouble. Just go. Bye.”

Falke did honestly try not to look like he was too eager or rushing to get out of the room. And unsteady legs and glazed eyes certainly would help an argument. But it was a relief to be out of the confining walls and closed quarters of a group that was often so close to the boiling over point it was frankly ridiculous. And of course being able to stop his repetitive and stupid German rendition of counting sheep, as he focused away from the thoughts and emotions of the others and the whole situation.

He stepped forward from the dark hall into the glittering dance floor world of the rich and powerful that had come to witness their ceremony, hesitantly taking it all in before necessarily diving into cheap but required talk with all the dignitaries. He felt a presence come out behind him next, instantly knowing it was Autumn, due to her being the last one to have a true mental conversation with him. It was obvious he hadn't quite turned off the slightly leaky faucet (wondering briefly what she had thought if she had potentially heard his sheep counting), but more obvious that it hadn't been his lack of focus causing his inability to hear her mind early - she simply had static chatter, all the time, riding across her mental plane demanding and tugging attention from her.

/Are they always so loud?\

Falke mentally questioned, as he tilted his head to glance blearily back at her in curiosity - before a group of noble women or men sprang upon the reasons for the grandeur and party around them. Clearly assuming it was the feeling of the spirits she used at the disposal of her powers, because he could not actually understand anything they were potentially saying. But it felt wrong, too much death and decay on a young women's mind, a hair raising experience to say the very least.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Keaton Character Portrait: Dorian Roberts Character Portrait: Harper Calloway Fields Character Portrait: Tallyho Abel Character Portrait: Haru Karokav
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

As Haru spoke Tallyho sucked on her fingers. The more he spoke the faster she ate. And while he spoke of Kyle—his issues with school, with anger management—she finished all of the grapes in her hand. And then he got to her. She eagerly peered back at the table. There was no way on Aires that she was going to be able to get up and get more. So she sucked on her own fingers. The index and thumb posed print to print as if she were simply savoring some imaginary grape. As if she hadn’t just run out of her only coping mechanism.
Collaboration and team work? Since when did she actually, actuallyneed that? Every cyclopean she fought, every bad situation she’s been in, every trial and tribulation she’s been through has been because of her own resilience. The others? They just happened to be in the same area doing their own thing. Every person who has ever saved her life, or helped her in some significant way has been from outside of the team. And one of them, though they didn’t know at the time, was aligned with the enemy. So as far as Tallyho was concerned teamwork did nothing for her.
She felt that everything she said to Harper was said for a reason. She had three years to think about it. Three years to be constantly reminded that no matter how obnoxious or unthoughtful or self-serving Harper was, people were always going to still care more about his well-being and his feelings and leave her to drown. And this reflection did not just apply to a good chunk of the group but to an extent she felt this about Dorian even.
She bit her finger as Haru went on:
”Get over things.”
”I cannot forget.” she thought.
”You’ll die alone.”
”Don’t you think I know that?”

She was prepared. She always lived alone even within crowds. As a child she felt strange. She learned to speak later than most children. They assumed she was an invalid. Mute. Stupid. She was dirty and she was stupid. And she was always hungry. And her mother was shrinking. And she ate her meals among the goats because she didn’t want to see her mother shrinking so much. Sometimes she would eat up to six meals a day just to remove herself. And when her mother shrank so small that she shrank out of existence Tallyho thought that she too was shrinking. And she became scared and became obsessed with being strong. And she ate more. She picked fights with boys. And she was still dirty and stupid and motherless but she beat the boys and took their lunches. And even when the old women braided her little orphan head with lilies she felt alone. And what was the point of having those women waste time braiding her hair if she was still going to feel alone anyway? So she left. And she walked a lot. And she was always hungry. And the night she cried the hardest was when she was hungry and got a splinter in her toe and couldn’t get it out with her little fingers and stubby nails and she let it sit there. And she felt so alone that she spoke to the splinter. The splinter became her friend because it made her feel something other than loneliness. Pain, yes. But she wasn’t lonely anymore. And she lived her life this way every night finding some new thing to talk to. She spoke to the wind because it made her feel like she was flying. She spoke to the fire because it made her warm. They made her feel things physically and they were distractions. Sometimes she wasn’t hungry. And soon she grew into womanhood. (And she was never sure when she became a woman because she hadn’t had anyone to tell her so.) And she resigned herself to this.
Before she struggled with trying to find a good reason for why she was alive. Taking her own life had never occurred to her. But she didn’t feel like she contributed anything of value to the world. She lived for no one, not her clan, not even herself. She resigned herself to this.
And then suddenly she had a calling. Suddenly she was this month warrior. At first she thought it was all in the necklace—something she quite honestly stole from somewhere to trade for food but never got around to it. She resigned herself to this.
And she resigned herself to the fact that she had trouble expressing her feelings. And the fact that no one was going to care about her but herself. And she was okay with this. To some it might seem a bit eerie but it was natural for her. And she resigned herself to the fact that she will always be hungry for something other than a meal that sits at the pit of her stomach for only a few hours before dissolving. And to the fact that, at the root of it all, she’s always felt a little less than human. And that was who she was and how she was.
And then Haru moved away from her.
She could feel herself melting on the white upholstered love seat. Watery butter on a mound of mashed potatoes. And she felt relieved. And then it was over and Harper was crying. Tallyho loathed the sight of tears. And the taste when they ran into the corners of her mouth. And they probably didn’t think she knew the taste but they were force-fed to her by the spoon of her cheeks as they fell without hesitation the night after the first time she killed a cyclopean. After her seizure in jail. And many other times but—no—she would always be a little less than human and this was natural. And she was okay with it. Falling down that hill and onto earth was the beginning of the hardest chapter of her life and she was okay with it. She was okay, okay—
“Okay
” That was what Tallyho said at the end of Haru’s intervention. She wasn’t particularly cold but she wasn’t passionate either. Then Kyle thanked Haru and Harper asked if they were done.
“I’m done.” he said, “But it’s not up to me to decide when the three of you are.”
And with this Haru hoisted himself out of his chair and made a dispassionate walk out of the room. Haru had changed a lot since the first day they met him. That day he appeared as a well-dressed, quite handsome, dashing, charming, witty young man with a natural affinity for success. But these days he was more rugged, hair un-kept, a slight limp in his step. Sunken eyes and paler skin. He seemed like he was getting older but he wasn’t supposed to because he was immortal. Yet he was beginning to look like someone’s aging father. And conversations with Haru became less like teenage rebellion and more like the curt conversation where your father reminds you that one day he will die. And your throat gets dry.