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Oliver Tanuki

"God, you people would die without me around."

0 · 506 views · located in "Box"

a character in “Paranoid”, originally authored by Spectrum, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Image
Anthony Cross
"Any pleas for help must first see my donation jar.ā€
Theme Song

Basics
ā€œIā€™m a cool guy. No, really. Donā€™t laugh, you no good, blindsided, mush-faced--ā€
Name
Anthony Cross. Anthony is known to be a pretty suiting Italian name, and although he might not be Italian, it just...whatever. It worked for him.

Alias
Disillusion

Nickname(s)
Tony. Everyone uses it. He hates people calling him by his full first name.

Age
16

Gender
Male

Romantic Interest(s)
There was one girl Tony was obsessed over for the longest time. Her name was Delilah and she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. Yeah, it was pretty stereotypical. He was really in love with her. At least, he thought so anyway. He used to follow her around like a dog to a bone. She knew she had him wrapped around her finger and dragged it out as long as possible. See, the truth was, Delilah, in reality, was a bitch. She was using him to get what she wanted. Tony was serious about this girl, though. He didn't see what she was doing, how she was using him to get him to steal stuff for her and her friends, taking the fall for her whenever she got caught doing something bad--he'd do it all for her. All he got in return was a kiss or two when he got her something really nice. A few days before he found out about his powers, he went to find Delilah and found her arms wrapped around the neck of some stringy-armed little pretty boy with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was enraged. But more than that, he'd been heartbroken. And what made it worse, was when Delilah turned to him, saw him gawking at the two of them, called him a rat and told him to get out of her sight, before turning and making out with the guy. He was furious. He punched the lights out of the guy. Delilah cursed him out and he got out of there before she could see him cry. He was stronger than that. He couldn't cry. He didn't. But, oh, did he want to. That was the only person he'd ever had real feelings for. He thought she got him, but...it was easy to pretend.

Other than her, nobody. Not at the moment anyway.

Sexuality
Bisexual. A few people know about it, but he doesn't exactly flaunt it or anything. It's not a big deal for someone to know, though.

Side
Anti-Hero

Motivation
Tony's in the middle for many reasons. He's not a good guy and has no intentions of being one, so he knows he could never make it as a hero. He doesn't think he deserves to be praised as a hero, anyway. And he's not exactly the bravest or cruelest of people, so he doesn't have the guts to be a villain. He wants to do his own thing without worrying about anything specific. He doesn't have any real goals and even if he did, he wouldn't have the motivation to go along with them, so he's simply in-between.

Accent
Stereotypical New Yorker (3:35)

Image
Appearance
"Yeah, I'm hot. I get it. Wanna take a picture? It'll last yas longer.ā€
Hair
Tony has messy brown hair. It's short when it's average, usually seen as wiry and unkempt. It annoys him to no end, however, so he secretly straightens it. When straightened, it just barely reaches his neck. It's actually surprisingly thick and soft. He keeps it well maintained, not that he'd admit it.

Eyes
His eyesight isn't the best, but he refuses to wear glasses and he doesn't have the money for contacts. He has nice hazel eyes.

Skin
Tony is lightly tanned, but nothing deep set or mentionable. He's a regular Caucasian, though if his tan went away, with what little of one he even has, he'd be more of a really pale color than a peachy one. He has a clear, smooth complexion.

Markings
Nothing truly notable aside from a few scratches on his hands from his cat.

Build
Tony is thin and lean. He's not exactly lanky, but he doesn't carry any muscle either. He hasn't worked out a day in his life and he doesn't eat nearly as much as he probably should to get proper nutrition. He's not exactly malnourished, but he's a little thinner than he should be, his cheeks ever-so-slightly sunken, his collar bone stuck out more than a normal, healthier person's. He doesn't look like a very intimidating person. He's about average height for his age, maybe a little shorter (every inch off just another point of aggravation), standing at about 5'7".

Clothes
Casual, definitely. He prefers loose-fitting, over-sized things. His jean pants are usually a size or two too big and a lot of the time, he'll be holding them up with one hand and walking with the other swinging casually at his side. Catching him in anything dressier than an over-sized T-shirt and ripped up or faded jeans would be a sign of the end of the world. He's trying to look like a "gangsta" or something, so that's how he dresses. He almost always wears a hoodie.

Accessories
He has two earrings in his right ear. He never leaves the house without his headphones, omnisciently hanging around his neck when he's not fighting or dealing with 'super' stuff.

Weapons
It doesn't really count as a weapon, but he always carries around a thin, durable metal card in the exact shape and form of as a credit card and a couple bobby pins.

Uniform
Uh... Well. Tony doesn't really have much in the form of a uniform, per se. He wears his regular clothes, maybe a different colored jacket aside from what he'll normally wear just to keep his identity safe. He'll usually wear a dark base-colored jacket normally, but when he's being 'super' or out around town using his powers, he'll wear a black jacket with yellow stripes. As for keeping his identity a secret, which he fully intends to do because who knows what kind of creeps might try coming after a guy like him with powers, he wears a gas mask over his mouth, covering the lower half of his face. He can still talk, although his voice is usually a little muffled. There's no practical purpose to the gas mask, it was just the only thing he had laying around and he thought it'd look cool; y'know, throw people off.

Powers/Skills
"Oh, yeah, great. My powers are just as great as a bouquet of daisies, let me tell ya.ā€
Power #1
Illusions. Simple as that. Okay, let me elaborate. Tony can create illusions from thin air. He can make anything his imagination can think up anywhere he likes. The only issue is his range. He can't make his illusions stretch further than about half the size of a football field's distance. He can appeal to the senses, however. Although his illusions are not real or tangible, he can make them seem that way to someone who doesn't realize it yet. He can create a muffin and make it smell like blueberries, but he wouldn't be able to eat it because it'd just fade away before he got it in his mouth. He can make instruments that emit sound or snakes that hiss. The most he can do when it comes to sense of touch, however, is just a light, feathery sensation. If he created a rock illusion and had it fling into someone's head, the most they would feel is some very, very light thud, as if someone might of hit them, but they're not completely sure. If he created a bunch of spiders and had them all attack a person, the person would just feel a light tickling sensation, probably not even enough to tickle anyone. His powers are good for tricking, but they're really not all that great for practicality or, well, anything at all once someone figures out none of it's real. The items can be picked up, but they don't carry any weight. Just a feather's weight, maybe. If he created a brick, it'd weigh the same as a feather. If he threw the brick into a wall, it would just disappear by the time it made contact.

Power #2
Something to be unlocked at a later time.

Natural Skills
-Quick reflexes. He might be clumsy sometimes or screw things up, but, if you see below, he's good at pick-pocketing. That doesn't come along with someone who moves slow. To get something from someone's pocket without them knowing, you gotta be fast with it. Tony's got it naturally.

-Blending in. In reality, he's really not the most noticeable guy around. It may not seem like it at first, but if he were stuck in a room with one other person that he's never met before, the two of them could easily sit there for an hour without the other person even noticing his existence. He seems to get bumped into a lot in the halls because people simply didn't take notice to him there. It's annoying, but in some cases, it could work out in his favor.

Learned Skills
-Pick-pocketing. Tony's got a knack for walking past someone and stealing their wallets right out from under their noses. He accidentally bumps into a girl? Now her coin purse is gone. He can't do anything unreasonable, like take a belt off a guy without him knowing, but he's only been caught once or twice in his entire life.

-Breaking and entering. He can break into nearly any place and get in and out without hardly anyone noticing. If he's not caught, that is. He knows just the tricks to use to get into a high security area and just the items he needs to do it. He can't hack, so don't get the two mixed up, but he can definitely break into a place or two, low-tech style, without setting off any alarms.

Weaknesses
-Scaredy-cat. Tony might talk tough, but once the situation gets really serious, heā€™ll be out of there quicker than anyone can ask him to stay. He a total wimp in those types of situations. When faced with big, bad guys that are obviously bigger and stronger than him, heā€™s not going to be the guy to stand up to them, heā€™s going to be the guy that turns tail and runs away. Heā€™d probably be the guy that would rat out his friends if he ever got put in that sort of situation; nobody would even need to torture it out of him. Just shoot him a scary look and heā€™ll be peeing his pants and shooting out more than you need to know.

-Weakling. Heā€™s not a fighter. If he thinks he can take the person, he might give it a try, but when the time really came down to when heā€™d actually have to start pulling some punches, heā€™d chicken out. He could probably be considered a pacifist. The only time heā€™d actually honestly try attacking someone is in the rare event that someone made him mad enough to lose his logic over it.

-Insecurities. Heā€™s got a lot of them and he doesnā€™t like talking about them. If anyone figures them out and started calling him out on every little thing wrong with him, heā€™d probably break down and give up then and there. Heā€™d lose any spirit he might of had.

-Attractive people. To put it simply: he's a total sucker for a pretty face. He's totally awkward around people that are on levels that are obviously way above his own. He'll turn into a stuttery, shifty, awkward mess and can probably be convinced to do anything for one. It's actually kind of an amusing sight to see.

Image
Mentality
ā€œYeah, well, we ainā€˜t all perfect are we, losah?ā€
Quirks
When he gets mad or upset about something or someone, instead of saying it to their face, he'll go off and find someone else to rant to about it. Sometimes he'll make up his own words or insults that probably make absolutely no sense to anybody else, but makes total sense to him. It's takes some getting used to. Although it probably wouldn't seem like it, he's actually pretty hygienic; he uses hair care products for his hair, makes sure he smells okay before leaving the house, and puts on lotion to keep his skin soft. Not that he'd ever admit to any of this if anyone asked.

Likes
-Personal hygiene. Tony, like mentioned above, likes to keep himself well-maintained. It definitely doesn't seem like it by the way he acts or the clothes he wears, but he takes good care of himself. His appearance makes him paranoid, so he tries looking his best as often as possible.

-Subs (the sandwich). Dude, give this guy a good philly cheesesteak sub and he'll do whatever you want him to do. If he could eat this for lunch and dinner every day of the week, he would.

-Ranting. Not to the faces of the ones he wants to rant about, of course, but Tony enjoys venting to others (anyone who'll listen, really) about other people or things that tick him off in general.

-Fitting in. He has an issue with fitting in, so every chance he gets to be part of something or part of a group, he enthusiastically takes the chance without a second thought. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it makes him feel like a normal person with real friends that like talking to him for once in his life.

-Good-looking people. 'Nuff said. He's a guy. A bisexual guy. If you've got a pretty face, a curvaceous body, or a well-toned body, or are well-endowed (if you get what I mean), then he's a sucker for you.

-Crowds. It gives him the sense that he's part of something whole. He likes just wandering through the crowds of countless amounts of people, just blending in and being apart of them, even though he's technically just one outcast piece of the puzzle. He doesn't think about that, though.

-Cash/Gold/Expensive stuff. Oh, yeah, anything shiny and worth a pretty penny he wants. If something catches his eye, he'll go out and get it. Simple as that. Or he'll get someone else to do it for him. Depends.

-Stealing. Just like the above thing says, if he wants something, he'll go out and get it. He enjoys doing it, though. He loves the excited rush he gets from taking things that don't belong to him. He's a total kleptomaniac.

Dislikes
-Ridicule. It happens more often than he'd like and it honestly bugs him more than anything. Yeah, he's heard the phrase 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' This doesn't apply to him. Sometimes, words hurt worse than any sort of physical pain. Sometimes, they strike right to home. He hates it. The feeling he gets from being called names or being mocked or being laughed at... That feeling of hate and rage and misery and frustration and the feeling of knowing there's nothing you can do or say to get away from it. He really hates it.

-Bullying. It's not something that's really happened all that often to him, really. He's been tripped here and there, but Tony just hates bullying for the mere idea of it. The thought of some big-boned jerk beating up a kid just because they're weaker or because they're different really pisses him off.

-Fighting. He doesn't care if other people fight. In fact, watching a good fight is pretty entertaining. His issue is being part of the fights. He might talk a lot of smack, and maybe at the time, if he's got enough pressure to, he might provoke a fight, but once it's time to throw down, he'll be backing out.

-Blood. The stuff makes him feel nauseas. Whenever he sees it, he goes weak in the knees and his head starts to spin. If it's enough, he might even throw up or pass out.

-Pain. This should be pretty self-explanatory.

-Getting caught. There's not much worse than the crappy feeling of getting caught when you're stealing something. This doesn't happen often, but he hates it when it does. It's a feeling of being trapped. Not just that, but he hates dealing with the lectures he gets for it and the punishment going along with being caught. It's just a sucky situation all together.

Fears
-Dying. Tonyā€™s got plenty of reasons piled up in his unstable little head of his that could push him to commit suicide. Heā€™s contemplated it before. But the one thing thatā€™s kept him from ever doing it is the very thought of death itself. Death is so...unsure. So unrealistic to him. It bothers him. He hates thinking about it. He goes out of his way to avoid getting into a situation that might be deadly. Maybe heā€™s why heā€™s such a wimp sometimes.

-Rejection. Itā€™s rarely happened, but thatā€™s only because heā€™s never let it happen. He wonā€™t set himself up for a situation that might land him rejected. Even if it has nothing to do with asking someone out, even if itā€™s just asking another person to let him borrow a pencil or something as trivial as that, he wonā€™t do it. Heā€™s afraid the person will say no. If the person said no, maybe because they simply didnā€™t have an extra pencil, his mind will go crazy. Heā€™ll start wondering why. Was he too ugly for a pencil? Was he not clean enough to be trusted with this personā€™s pencil? Did he ask the question the wrong way? Did he come off as rude or snobby? Why canā€™t this person just give him a pencil? Huh? Whatā€™s wrong with him? ...things like that.

-Many general things. Blood, dying, death-like situations, sharp objects, getting punched in the face, people bigger and stronger than him, etc. Itā€™s hard to pinpoint anything more specific because thereā€™s a lot of things that scare him in general. It just depends on what it is and what situation heā€™s in.

Personality
Tony is different. He's not the kind of guy anyone would ever exactly look twice at. He's always been known to just sort of fade into the background. He's never done anything big or great or spontaneous. He's never saved a life or ran a campaign. He's never really done much with his life at all. At one point, he just sort of gave up all passion to do anything big or great or spontaneous and decided that the only thing he would ever amount to is a big, stupid loser. He hates sitting in those counselor officers, having the man or woman ask him what his plans for the future are, what he dreams of becoming. He hates when they scold him for never having an answer. He hates that nobody ever seems to understand him and, even worse, that nobody has ever seemed to bother to try.

With all this summed up, Tony is a very cynical person. He believes in looking at reality. Reality is harsh, he thinks. Reality is cruel. Reality will punch you square in your sore spot if you look to the clouds for even a second. He doesn't like reality, but that's what he lives in. Another thing, though. He just doesn't care. He's given up on himself or making himself anything big or fantastic. He's convinced himself it'll never happen and he doesn't want to give himself false hopes only for him to turn up disappointed again. Everything he's ever done in his entire life, he believes, has ended in failure. He used to be the guy that would go into everything with a beaming smile and a headstrong attitude, ready to take on anything. If he failed, he'd try and try again. But what people never tell you is when enough is enough. When do you fail so many times that you just have to give up? You can't do it forever. That's ridiculous. It's unrealistic. Tony gave up.

But this is mostly on the inside. Although Tony truly believes he'll never amount to anything above true failure status, he keeps his spunk up on the outside. He carries himself with a shaky pride, ready to be knocked down at any time. He has a quick temper that isn't hard to set off. One of his favorite things to do is rant, but it's not like he's ever really had anyone to rant to before. Nobody likes to listen to Tony. Nobody really likes Tony in general. He's a rat, a sell-out, a loser. And when he's not any of that, he's nothing. He doesn't exist in most peoples' worlds. The background character. Tony has a big mouth that gets him in trouble with even bigger guys. He'll talk all the smack he wants about a person, but when it comes time to throw down in a fight, he'll back away with his tail between his legs. The 'all bark and no bite' rule applies strictly to him. He puffs himself up and demands attention, but he doesn't go out of his way. If he goes ignored, that's okay. He'll wave it off. He used to it anyway.

Tony will curse up a storm, too. He has spunk, that's for sure. Confidence? Not so much, maybe. He'll brag day and night and bring up these fake, way overly exaggerated stories about things that never happened, and he'll lie even more just to have the excuse of not being able to prove it. He tries to be casual around other people, but the truth is, he's pretty awkward around strangers or people above his status in the looks and popularity department. He's not the type to stand up for himself. If someone bumps into him, he might shout for a second, but once he realizes the guy has he big-looking muscles, he'll back down immediately. He's a wimp. At heart, once you push past all the false cockiness and big-mouthed, tough-guy antics, Tony's really not a bad guy at all. Selfish, definitely. He's learned never to do things for others and rely purely on himself. But sometimes, he has his rare--very rare--soft moments. They don't last long and he tends to ruin them.

Personal Life
"I don't wanna talk about it.ā€
Housing Status
Tony lives in an average house; not anything big, but not the smallest thing out there either. He lives with his single father. Many times, the house has been threatened to be taken away, but they've managed.

Significant Relationships
Tyler Maze; probably the only guy that tolerates Tony enough to keep him around. That's enough to keep Tony sticking around him, too. It doesn't take much, really. But the two have been hanging out more since they got their powers.

Nose. His pet cat. Itā€™s a male calico with a cute pink nose with a pattern around it that makes the nose look like itā€™s almost in the shape of a heart, hence where he got the name.

Family
Mother: deceased. Cause: illness.
Father: alive. Tony lives with his father. They don't have the best of relationships, but he supposes it could always be worse...

School
Tony goes to school on and off. He doesn't really care enough to bother, but he likes the feeling of being in class and being apart of something. It makes him feel a little better some days, and others, it makes him feel a lot worse. So it depends what type of mood he's in. He doesn't want social services popping up at his door for too many school absences, though, either, so he keeps up the appearances just enough to stay below the line of suspicion.

History
Tony had a mother and a father. They were normal and they were happy. He didn't have any siblings, but his parents were considering it. They always wanted a little girl, but they were happy with their son. Tony had a lot of things going for him from an early age. His parents had his education all planned out, college, the type of life they wanted him to live, the type of sweet, young boy they wanted him to be. His mother died when he was eight. He was devastated, but it hit his father pretty hard. Things never really went back to normal after that.

Tony's father...well, he stayed the same. Mostly. He just couldn't look his son in the eye anymore. He started talking to Tony less and less. The boy reminded him of his dead wife and the man just couldn't deal with that, seeing the ghost of a reflection of the woman he once loved more than anyone else in the image of his eight-year-old son. He started burying himself in his work, becoming an insomniac and jittery with too much coffee and energy drinks and pain-killers. Tony started seeing him less because he'd always be at work. He's his own manager, so over-time isn't really an issue.

So Tony started growing up a lonely person. He grew up in an empty house with a father he truly believed didn't love him anymore. That wasn't true--his father loved him very much, he just couldn't, and still can't to this day, bare to look at his face or hear his voice. Tony started doing bad things. He tried drugs at one point, but never really formed the habit. He tried going to parties, but he never was a very likeable person, so that never ended well for him (one too many pranks, pulled underwear, swirlies, and broken noses for his liking put an end to all that). He finally found solace in one thing he found he was actually good at: stealing. He started out small, at first. Heā€™d take wallets from old ladyā€™s purses whenever they werenā€™t looking or bump into someone and knock their stuff over and casually exchange their similar-looking items. But soon all that small stuff escalating into a habit, a part of his life that he couldnā€™t simply stop or get rid of. He started hiding food or clothes under his shirt or in his pants and started breaking into stores late at night, avoiding the alarm, and leaving with all the cash his heart desired. Itā€™s a great deal. This is stuff he still does. Heā€™s a klepto and he knows it. He loves every bit of it.

As for his school life, however, that wasnā€™t going as well. Heā€™d take stuff from kids at school, but people thought he was a weird guy. He was shy when he was younger and kids would make fun of him for it. ā€œTalk, weirdo.ā€ He wouldnā€™t talk. Heā€™d want to, but he wouldnā€™t. He knew whatever heā€™d say, theyā€™d ridicule. He lived his entire life being ridiculed. He didnā€™t know why. He just had that face that people enjoyed picking on, that way of acting or walking that made people want to outcast him. He was just that guy. Or, in his mind, that failure. That no-good, sorry-ass failure. He grew up believing all the things people told him he was. Failure. Loser. Punk. Idiot. Wimp. Go die in a ditch. Go hang yourself. Get away from us, freak. Weirdo. He was just that guy.

Image
"Listen, if you don't pay up, I don't gotta do nothin' for you.ā€


Hex Code
Midnight Blue (#2F2F4F)

Notes
TBA

So begins...

Oliver Tanuki's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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#, as written by throne
Image

Cassius was always early. It was just a part of him, the pre-punctuality that he always exhibited. Time had even less meaning to him than the others boys. The absence of light, artificial or otherwise, made it hard to tell if they were in day or night mode. He just slept when he was tired, and he had gotten The Box to make him an alarm clock that, when the fourth button on the top was pressed, would announce the current time in a tinny female voice. Pushing that button was the first thing he did when he woke up, because for all he knew heā€™d only caught a few hours and everyone else would still be in bedā€¦ or heā€™d slept ten and he was late for breakfast.

As a result, he took his time with things. Getting around wasnā€™t all that hard, not anymore, but it tended to be slow. Counting steps in long hallways required concentration even after the months of practice he had with the more common toā€™s and fromā€™s in their strange metallic home. Heā€™d probably been the first to arrive for the meeting, crossing the sixteen steps from the door to the round table and then feeling around for a seat. No one had greeted him, anyway, so he was pretty sure heā€™d been the first one, but then again Pandora might have been there the whole time and not said a word. The quiet boy was funny that way, but Cass could usually tell when he was around. It was justā€¦ a feeling. That weird prickling of the mind one got when they were being watched, even if they couldnā€™t actually remember what watching felt like.

Heā€™d put on his earphones and some Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Heā€™d been on a classics kick for the last couple of days. Much though he loved music, the boy never, ever sang along. He sang in the shower, when there was no music accompanying him, but with his headphones on he could never tell when someone entered the room, and he didnā€™t want to annoy anyone with his kind of breathy, inexpert voice. Sighted people could spot an interloper and hush up, but whenever the urge overtook him, he thought about all five of his friends gathering around him, listening without tapping him or anything to let him know they were there. It made his cheeks feel hot to think of that, and the urge to sing usually went away very quickly.

Someone had prodded him when the meeting was about to start. He wasnā€™t sure who. Oh well. He reached up and pulled his headphones away from his ears, using one finger to kill the tiny sounds coming out of them once they were off. He was slouching, like he usually did, so he sat up. This was a break in the routine, this meeting. Maybe it was something important? He had no idea, and heā€™d been pondering about it all day, ever since Olly had called for it. He heard a chair scraping about, and then Olly clearing his throat. He did it in a pretty distinctive way, at least to Cassā€™s sharp ears, so he knew immediately that their leader was sitting to his left. He turned his head so that he was facing him, and got ready to listen.

He blinked his wide eyes when the other boy went on about people blowing their brains out or vanishing. Was that really something he worried about? Cassius found reasons to check in with Olly every chance he got, so it couldnā€™t be him that Olly was talking about. Probably Pandora and Drew. Mostly Pandora. He wondered where the solitary boy was. Probably away from the rest of them, maybe leaning against the wall.

When Olly looked at Cassā€™s faceā€¦ well, Cassā€™s face could be pretty hard to read. Eye-contact was obviously out of the question. Even though heā€™d turned himself to face Olly, he was still staring through him rather than at him with those vacant eyes of his. Cass could smile, sure; he did smile, and laugh, and frown, and pout, but more subtle, less natural expressions were alien to him. Heā€™d never seen them, so how could he know how to make them? He heard him sigh, and almost frowned. He hated when Olly was upset. Instead of frowning, he smiled, as encouragingly as he could. At least, he hoped it looked encouraging.

His brow creased. He had that one down, too. Ghost stories? He didnā€™t have the usual run of fears, so horror movies or creepy stories had never really interested him. That sort of stuff was only dangerous to dumb people anyway. They always wound up breaking the rules, then the bad guys got all of them but one, and it was just stupid how they all separated and got lost and picked off one by one. Maybe that was the point of it? To scare them into sticking together? Noā€¦ Olly wasnā€™t that subtle. His heart was in the right place, but he couldnā€™t have come up with that.

He didnā€™t really know any scary stories, but he decided to speak up, remembering Ollyā€™s sigh, his exasperated tone of voice. ā€I think itā€™s a really great idea, Oliver.ā€ When he spoke aloud, he always called him Oliver. In Cassā€™s head, though, heā€™d always be Olly, who fretted over him so endearingly. Olly, whoā€¦ well, he liked Olly, and it was a good idea. The meetings were. He turned his head to smile a little more weakly atā€¦ well, he wasnā€™t sure where everyone was, but he probably got most of them before he panned back to Olly. ā€Iā€™m all for spending more time together. It will be fun. I donā€™tā€¦ know if we should start a fireā€¦ but we could have it make us sā€™mores and melted chocolate and all of that. I mean, maybe we can start a fire, I donā€™t know. What if there are sprinklers that just come on? Iā€¦ā€ He realized he was doing that thing where he just kept talking. That happened, when Olly was around, more than any other time. He slouched in his seat again. ā€I just think the meetings are a good idea, is all,ā€ he finished quietly.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
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Drew Reinhart

"This is unfathomably stupid."

Drew struggled to keep the thoughts inside. It was late - or at least "box-late" - and Drew found himself more than ready for bed and less than thrilled to be attending a meeting. Especially one run so mind-numbingly slow, and by the far too excited Oliver. He should have known better than to show up, even if he did arrive more than fashionably late, to something Oliver organized. Having all of them in one room and knowing that it was his will that brought them there was obviously too much for his ego, and it soon became apparent Drew wasn't going to bed any time soon. Tuning Oliver out entirely, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, stretching as the boy rambled on. There was no point in listening; if it had been something important enough to interest Drew surely he would have said it straight out. He was probably just laying down more rules no one cared to follow anyway.

There was a short pause as Oliver stopped to clear his throat, and Drew's ears perked up, listening for Oliver to bring his little meeting to a close. "So from now on, we'll have these meetings on a nightly basis. We'll gather here before going to bed. Understood?" Drew's eyes snapped open and he fell forward in his chair. "Every night?" He pushed his glasses back onto his face as a small frown settled on his lips. The thought of spending every night before bed with everyone doing God-knows-what and talking did not sit well with Drew at all. "I suppose we use tonight to do that thing people used to do around campfires and junk. You know. Telling crappy ghost stories."

Kanari of course flipped the fuck out like usual, tossing his doll around and squealing as though Oliver had just offered him something of actual value. Though what was of value in a place like this? In a place where anything you wanted was at your fingertips, did anything really have worth? Did anything matter? He dwelled on this thought, mulled it over in mind with a light sort of amusement, a smile playing across his face as he lost himself in his own brain. Though if one can lose oneself inside oneself, who are you, really? He planted his elbows loudly on the table and rest his head in his palms thinking as the others put forth their two cents. Their chatter became a sort of background noise, a dull buzz that lulled Drew's thoughts closer toward the more abstract realm of dreams. As they continued to talk, Drew fell a little closer and a little closer to sleep. It was silence that ended up bringing him back to reality. Normally the quiet was his welcome companion, but this was the loud sort of noiselessness, the kind that was full of the near tangible thoughts and emotions of the others as they waited for someone to speak up. He yawned loudly, filling the expectant silence that had built most disappointingly.

"What's everyone waiting for, hm? Oliver, this was your idea, though it sounds more like something Kanari would come up with; why don't you go ahead and start us off, Boss?" Drew snickered lightly to himself, leaning back and closing his eyes again, hands behind his head and feet on the table. Oliver wasn't one for scary things. Kanari always insisted on watching horror movies and Oliver would frequently find some excuse to leave during the most climatic scenes. He doubted Oliver had really thought any of this through, and hopefully he'd be able to get to bed after a quick, likely harmless tale. "Come on, I'm..." Drew broke his sentence with a long, overdone yawn, "...tired as hell."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
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Ivonne Stratsky

Thought that it was too late be having any meetings. He was sleep as hell and he wanted to go back to sleep he was usually the one to sleep first. But, now no one was sleep listening to Oliver rambling about having a meeting every night before going to bed. Plus, he didn't know if everyone else was sleep but, he was already closing his eyes to sleep. Ivonne was pretty tired he kept rephrasing to go to sleep during all of this.

Oliver would never come up with a idea like that. Who would have him bring that up? Kanari was the first person that would ever bring up scary things so it would defiantly be him to tell Oliver to even have a meeting about talking about anything scary. But, before bed? Out of all the different times that people wasn't sleep, why choose before bed. Shrugging his shoulders when Oliver stated sharing any complaints or question would be fine too. Ivonne thought that it would be fine for that at least.

Searching for scary stories in his mind he has heard of some but, he just can't remember them. Sighing he stared blankly at the wall and nothing else. That is what he did most of the time he was sitting down somewhere and thinking. He laid his head on his hand blinking slowly he was really trying not to sleep or anything. Sighing he sat back up and looked at Ri and then at Cass, he then looked back at Ri agreeing with what Drew had said,"Ri you are the one for scary movies and other things like that. You could actually help us think of some things with a story or something." He nodded to himself and Kanari in agreement.

He smiled at Ri and he wanted to jump out of his chair and call him a girl just to annoy him. But, he didn't want to at the moment, he was very tired at the moment and wanted to get some sleep but, he could not with everyone waiting for someone to start a story. "Do we have to do this scary stories thing every night?" It would get boring to him sooner or later, but that was just him. He looked over at Oliver and back at his old friend, the wall. He usually looks over at the wall a lot lately, it calms his mind and it's a wall that can't talk to him. Well, that does not bother him, it was non living anyway.

Ivonne looked back at everyone in the meeting thingy or what ever it was for. He listened for Ri's and Oliver's response. He would be able to tell a scary story if he had any clue on how to start one. Ivonne really wasn't a person to even talk about anything that was even apart of being scary. Though he was pretty random so he wouldn't remember if he even did say anything or not. He probably did he just couldn't really think right now since he was getting tired every time he tries to think of something.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
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(Fail on my part!)

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
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Kanari Tikoto

ā€œI think itā€™s a really great idea, Oliver.ā€ did Ri-chan smell cuteness in the air? He was sure he did. Cass-cass was always so cute. The kind of cute that makes you want to snuggle up to them and pinch their cheeksā€¦and. Well yeah. Cass was a good friend of his, other then Olive-chan. But Olive and him wereā€¦errā€¦what was the word that ā€˜thugsā€™ used all the time before he was stuck in this horrid, but surprisingly nice, place. Tight. Yeah! What wasā€¦oh! Right. Cass and Ri-chan were really tight, but not as ā€˜tightā€™ as Olive and him. Because Olive was funny to talk to. He was their leader, of course he wanted to be best friends with their leader. Even if he was sort ofā€¦anā€¦anā€¦unorthodox kind of leader. ā€œIā€™m all for spending more time together. It will be fun. I donā€™tā€¦know if we should start a fireā€¦but we could have it make us sā€™mores and melted chocolate and all of that. I mean, maybe we can start a fire. I donā€™t know. What if there are sprinklers that just come on? Iā€¦I just think the meetings are a good idea, is all.ā€ See!? See what he said about cute? Of course, Ri-chan was just a little cuter, but he would share that cuteness with Cass. Both of them were cute in a manly way of course. Of course.


A new voice spoke up and Ri fought a small frown. Frowns didnā€™t look well on him. Made him lookā€¦dare he say it? He shook his head. No. He wouldnā€™t. It would sound stupid, even in his head. Soā€¦just. Letā€™s stick with the fact that frowns didnā€™t suit his baby face and he was fine with it that way. Totally fine with it that way. ā€œWhatā€™s everyone waiting for, hm? Oliver, this was your idea, though it sounds more like something Kanari would come up with; why donā€™t you go ahead and start us off, Boss?ā€ A soft snicker could be heard and Ri fought the urge to throw Koko at him, just to make him shh-it! Ri-chan did not like people making fun of Olive! Olive was his make-fun-of toy! And if he was nice for a day, when he was really scared Olive wouldnā€™t be a jerk about it and just let him into the room so he could sleep with him. Stupid Unknown pestered Ri everywhere. See? Did you see that? They were right there, staring at him. He shivered. He could fight them today. They were just being creepy as always. Nothingā€¦nothing he couldnā€™t handle. It was when they were being nasty Unknowns that they started to mess with his sense of dream and non-dreamy like things and he had to get out. This could be a dream. He didnā€™t know. Actuallyā€¦he pinched himself to make sure. And yeah, it hurt. Real. ā€œCome on, Iā€™mā€¦tired as hell.ā€ a large yawn broke the elders sentence and in hearing the yawn, Ri did the same. Yawns were contagious things!

Eve-chan was the last to speak up, aside from Panda-chan, but he never really talked much. Neverā€¦talked much at all! Totally the opposite of Ri, but he was a-okay with that! Panda was nice to him and he was nice to Panda and Panda gave him food andā€¦well Eve. Eve, Evey-chan! If Olive kicked him out, he went to Eve. Because bothering Cass was likeā€¦kicking a puppy into a street and watching itā€™s eyes widen as a monster truck ran over its body and left it dead. And alone. Soā€¦he didnā€™t ever bother Cass. ā€œDo we have to do this scary story thing every night?ā€ Ri wrinkled his nose. No, silly! Of course not! As much as he would love to, Olive would try to kill him if he begged more than every once and a while. He would take it easy on the elder man. Elder becauseā€¦he was small and therefore he just considered himself to be the youngest. In honesty, Panda could be younger than him and he would not know. Becauseā€¦he was taller and therefore he had to look up to see him. Henceā€¦older.

Glancing around the room, the perfect story formatted in his mind. It wasnā€™t a story actually. He remembered this happening in his town. It was kind of cool to him. He wanted his friends to go with him to check it outā€¦but they didnā€™t want to and called him a macho girl and ran off. Of course he didnā€™t talk to them for a while because they called him female, but the point still stood ofā€¦it was real. Really real. He giggled at himself. ā€œOkay, okay! Since no one wants to go first,ā€ he pouted, ā€œIā€™ll do it! Of course it was my idea. Duh. Why would likeā€¦Olive-chan do anything worthā€¦doingā€¦about the supernatural. Heā€™s justā€¦not amazing like me in that sense!ā€ he giggled and leaned over to pat Oliveā€™s shin, smiling. ā€œBut enough chit-chat guyyss! Itā€™s scary story time~ā€

He hummed for a bit and settled down, crossing his legs once more and moving his recently collected, from the horrid place called the ground, stuffed cat into his lap. ā€œSo like around the late 1990ā€™s, or the early 2000ā€™s, there was this really nice amusment park in my town, or city, whatever. It had rides for kids of all ages, from like 2 to likeā€¦16 or something. I donā€™t even know. It was amazing and I loved to look at pictures of it before it closed. Of course I never went there, because I was not alive. My grandmother was. And this reallyā€¦itā€™s what she told me happened. Itā€™s whyā€¦I donā€™t have a great-aunt, or something equally weird and creepy. Anyways, when they were younger, they used to go all the time right?ā€ he paused and dropped his smile. He hated that he couldnā€™t tell scary storiesā€¦scarily. But whatever. He loved this tale. It made himā€¦tingly inside, ā€œWhen they were around the age of 9, there was a new ride. All the little kids seemed to love it, is what she said. It was a nice ride too. A large happy smiling face for a mechanized head, and roughly around 4 little train carts following after it. Sounds really cute right? Well thatā€™s what I thought too! Well it seemed that after a few months, children started to disappear on the ride. She showed me records. Deaths and disappearance. There were cases in the double digits. For one year. Just for the ride. Not including anything else. Those that disappeared from the ride itself, seemed to always be gone after the short tunnel, about 10-15 feet long, and even if the parents stood at one end and watched their kid, sometimes they still managed to be snapped away into thin air. Thoseā€¦lucky, unlucky?ā€ he tilted his head slightly and licked his lips, ā€œSouls that didnā€™t vanish sometimes went into comatose states. One was just found dead, various shades of blood red on her pretty dress. Other children killed themselves. Razors, wires, they even went ahead and killed other kids before killing themselves. There were several reports of decapted heads on farms, childrenā€™s bodies smashed to almost the point of no recongizicon, anything you could ever think of, there were records of it.ā€

ā€œIt was safe to say that not only did that ride shut down, but the whole park did as well,ā€ he smiled, ā€œActually, just a few years after Grandma told me this story, a group of scientists and other volunteers went to the now over grown park site and found that the ride, while run down, was in perfect condiction. In fact, other than a few spots of rust, that collect no matter what, and the happy smiley now washed into a demented snarl-grin, the ride worked. So, stupidly, they put a scientist on the ride with a video camera and ran him through the whole 2-3 minute ride, thinking that the townsfolk were just making it up. The first one disappeared, the camera showing only what they could see from their own eyes. As soon as he entered the tunnel it turned into static and the only thing they heard was the laughter of small children. The secondā€¦both him and the camera remained, the man covered in blood, and not all of it his own, and his throat slit open. The cameraā€¦well they couldnā€™t even hope to recover it. It was smashed.ā€ Ri smiled brightly and giggled, ā€œWell? Thatā€™s it really. They havenā€™t gone back. I guess. I donā€™t know. But yeah! My creepy story!ā€

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
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It really did seem like it was Kanariā€™s idea. Every so often, Drewā€™s prickliness hit the mark, and the idea was only confirmed when Ri admitted as much. He frowned, though it had nothing to do with children dying at an amusement park; he frowned because he realized he had just felt a teensy, tiny, miniscule pang of jealousy. He knew that Olly and Ri spent a lot of time together, time apart from the rest of them, and apparently they spent that time planning meetings and filling them with ideas that Ri would enjoy. The monster that Olly would go on to describe a few minutes later probably would have enjoyed feasting on what Cass was feeling right then very much, but after a few seconds of fuming, the blind boy only felt guilty for getting so cross about his friendsā€™ friendship. It was only friendship, right?

He tuned back in. Understandably, Cassius was a listener par excellence. If anyone bothered giving out awards for being a listener, he would have swept the competition every year. He had to be good at it. He couldnā€™t tell what sort of looks people were giving, how they were standing or sitting, whether their arms were folded across their chests or hanging at their sides. All the little visual cues that made up the very diverse catalogue of human body language were almost entirely lost to him, so he had only words, tone of voice, and the occasional interaction with the environment to go by.

Riā€™s story wasnā€™t really all that scary, not to him. He never would have said as much (despite, just a moment before, feeling not-so-kind regarding Ri), butā€¦ well, heā€™d never been to an amusement park. Heā€™d never ride a roller coaster in his life, especially not the one Ri was talking about.

The step that Pandora took caused Cass to give his attention that way. The mysterious boyā€™s story was even less scary than Riā€™s. Killer curtains? And the girl whoā€™d gone and bought them like a dummy had survived thanks to the police. Her entire family had been killed by her stupidity, though, so maybe that was worse than being choked to death by curtains anyway. Besides, where they were didnā€™t even have windows, so death by curtain was pretty much the last thing heā€™d lose sleep over.

He started thinking up his own story, one that he was making up in his head without even realizing it. It was a story about a boy whose parents hated him. When he squalled, they decided to sew his mouth shut so that he couldnā€™t wake them with his crying. When he grew older and got upset at the nasty things they said about him, they plugged up his ears with wax. When he picked out the wax, they bound his hands behind his back with scratchy twine and sealed up his ears again. When he cried silently and they got tired of seeing his tears, they got a spoon and used it to scoop out hisā€¦

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of shuffling foot-steps coming closer to him. He wasnā€™t sure who it was, and he braced himself for something. A tap on the shoulder, a nudge, or even a random hug like the sort Kanari was so fond of giving him. He was glad it wasnā€™t any of those things, particularly the lattermost. When he heard Ollyā€™s voice, so close, he realized that the bigger boy, their leader, was the one who had come near. He couldnā€™t help the shy smile that tugged at his lips, the faint crimson that touched his cheeks. Something inside him wanted him to reach out and take Ollyā€™s hand, but he couldnā€™t. Heā€™d be groping through the air for it, probably look very foolish, and make Olly look foolish and weakā€¦ so, no, that was out of the question.

He listened to their leaderā€™s contribution to the non-existent campfire, and began to frown. The creature he was describingā€¦ now that was scary. No, not just scary. There was a better word from it, a word that Cassius knew because of all the books heā€™d listen to or read with the tips of his fingers. Insidious. That was the word for this nightmare thing that Ollyā€™s voice seemed to conjure. Something that didnā€™t strangle you or stab you or bite out your liver. Instead it drove you crazy. Insanity was something that scared someone who spent as much time just thinking as Cassius did quite a lot. He could imagine such a monster moving things around in his room. He could imagine it leaving him little bits of paper with raised bumps on them that said terrible things.

He swallowed, and his lower lip became caught in his teeth while he pondered about the shadow-sewn horror. The really scary thing about it, he decided, was that it didnā€™t really need to exist at all. He might just forget where he put something, but now that heā€™d heard thisā€¦ well, what if it was some extra-dimensional thing that fed on negativity? What if someone said something that hurt his feelings (which happened quite a lot), and he decided that it might be because they were having weird stuff happen to them to? Ollyā€™s monster was a perfect metaphor for the fear that affected him most acutely of all: the fear that he might one day be very alone, even with his captive friends still around.

Olly interrupted his thinking again when he abruptly put an end to the story that wasnā€™t a story so much as a description and the meeting in one stroke. He heard him move away, and sank even lower in his seat. He didnā€™t want Olly to go away right now, especially not to bed, because that meantā€¦ No way, shadow-monster. If you are real, youā€™re not getting to eat any jealousy tonight. ā€Good night, Oliver,ā€ he called lamely after the departing boy. He remained sitting, waiting for the others to say something or depart as well. He needed to wait, or else he might walk right into someone, and reallyā€¦ he didnā€™t want to be alone right now. The story session had unsettled him. He sat very still, very silent, listening for footsteps and hoping, for once, that someone might offer to help him to his room. He laid his hands on his CD player, his head phones, making sure they were still where he thought they were, and waited.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
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Drew Reinhart

None of he stories particularly impressed Drew. Of course, that could've been because he only half listened to them. Kanari couldn't really make anything sound scary when he was so damn bubbly about it, and Pandora himself with his shady smile and lurking in the dark seemed creepier than his actual story. Oliver on the other hand seemed to have scared himself right out of the room. He brought the meeting to a close so abruptly, it took Drew a moment to realize that it was actually over. "He must be off to look for the boogeyman," Drew muttered aloud to no one in particular. Drew certainly would not be wetting himself, but he had to admit there wasā€¦ something about Oliver's story. It was the kind of tale that sort of hung in the air, lingered gently within one's mind, waiting patiently for the perfect night, the right kind of darkness, the moment you were eerily alone to creep back out and frighten you. Drew removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the other hand, swinging his head lightly as if to physically dispel the thought.

Cass also seemed to be rather rattled calling out after Oliver so weakly. The others still hadn't said anything, though that was really only strange for Kanari; he hadn't expected much of a reaction from Ivonne or Pandora, even after Oliver had nearly pushed him out of the way to get back to his room. "Wellā€¦" Drew stood up and stretched, trailing off with no real intention of finishing the thought. He settled his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and gave a final glance around the table as a "goodnight" to everyone. Hands shoved into his pockets, Drew walked off toward his room whistling lightly. A surprising amount of time had passed (or at least it felt that way) since the meeting had started, and with each step Drew's feet grew a little heavier.

He finally slumped into his room fell into his bed. He yawned and stretched his arms up hard, arching his back on the still made bed. He knew there was no real point in making it, but still he did every morning. Something about leaving it made him feel as though he'd given up on something. What that something was he wasn't sure, but it gave him a little empty pit in his stomach to see it a crumpled mess all the time.

Drew managed to pull himself up for a moment to toss his glasses onto a nightstand, peel his t-shirt off, and wriggle out of his pants, then fell straight back down and almost immediately to sleep, face down, sprawled atop his covers, one arm dangling off the side of the mattress.

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Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Cassius St. James
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Kanari Tikoto

Panda-chan had spoken up after him, and Ri let a little giggle out at the end of her story. It was funny, in a weird way. Of course it was just a tale, and curtains never ate people. It was silly. And it had a moral to it too. He wasnā€™t sure if he liked that. Morals were forā€¦tales. Not scary stories. But whatever. It didnā€™t scare him. Oliveā€™s storyā€¦it stuck a chord with him. A very large chord. A chord that made him want to roll into a ball and cry because it actually terrified him. See it started off okay. It was good, the story. Until about the third sentence. Then, for Ri, shit hit the fan. ā€œItā€™s likeā€¦some sort of stitched-up shadow thing. Like a monster that was sewn together from the shadows of other monstersā€¦ā€ Ri had been frozen, the smile gone from his lips. Koko had been in his death grip, and he fought not to scream. To scream at Olive to shut up, because they were listening to him. To not continue due to the fact that he could see them, he saw them, right next to him. Listening to every single word. Instead he just squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, begging them not to be there. When they opened, the shadows were gone. But he couldā€¦he felt them. There. Next to him. Turning he saw their devil eyes staring directly at him, not even 5 feet away. He wanted to cry.

ā€œSo this monster thingā€¦.It knows that you know itā€™s there, but it knows you also donā€™t believe itā€™s really there.ā€ No. No he knew. He knew they roamed the house. He came to the conclusion that theyā€¦they lived on the 6th level. And they were waiting for someone. Someone to kill. Someone toā€¦to hurt and torment. They wanted one of them. And he would do his dammest to make sure that everyone stayed together. They were his family. He would do anything to keep them safe! Maybe not get himself killed or something, but if it came down to Olive or him. Or him and Cass, he would do it. He would take the blame. ā€œSo after a while, itā€™ll start leaving youā€¦presents.ā€ Ri frowned at this. Presents? They hadnā€™t done that yet. Maybe because he believed in them. He knew they watched him. But of course he saw the good in everything, so at first he thought they were lonely. And they are. They are lonely. Butā€¦they are dangerous too. And thatā€™s why he was scared. He didnā€™t want to become their puppet.

Ri sat there, ignoring, but not actually ignoring at the same time, the shadow monsters that danced across the wall. They taunted and teased him, but he focused on the lull of Olive-chanā€™s voice, trying to pretend that they were not in this room. It didnā€™t work, but it was nice to think and hope that it would. ā€œā€¦.Notes you never remembered writing. Creepy shit too. Fucks with your head.ā€ They paused at that and turned their red soulless eyes toward the human who was speaking. Ri guessed it was something they didnā€™t think of. Possessing a human. One of them. Controling them to write things they didnā€™t. And after a whileā€¦he guessed, if he was one of them, he would slowly start to control their actions as well, making them do and say things they didnā€™t remember because they didnā€™t do them. Truly frightening. ā€œAnd before they know it, they go insane. And the monster takes them. Theyā€™re never seen again.ā€

He sat there for a while, barely hearing the rest of them begin the leave. After I while he scowled in the direction of the monsters and hurried off, stopping when he reached Cass. ā€œCassā€¦ā€ he whimpered, wrapping his arms awkwardly around the boy, ā€œItā€™s okay to be scared, right?ā€ he squeezed the elder, or so he assumed, and before Cass could get a word in he laughed, ā€œDuh of course it is! Likeā€¦Iā€™m talking about you. Of course. I would never be scared. Scared of something so weird and silly. I mean, Oliveā€™s story was awesome! It gave me chills. But heā€™s just pulling our leg, they arenā€™t real of course! Well night Cass! Iā€™ll see you in the mornnning!ā€ he darted down the hall and ran into Olive-chan, who was conversing with Panda. Smiling he hugged the tall, silent boy, before tackling into Olive, a grin hiding his fear. ā€œOliveee-chan! Youā€™re so weird! Telling a scary story and scaring yourself!ā€ he giggled, dancing down the hall toward his room, ignoring the shadowā€™s following him. Or trying. But he failed. ā€œKanariā€¦ā€ they said to him. Or was that Olive? He turned and gave another wave before disappearing into his room.

ā€œStop it.ā€ He whined, pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed, his stuffed animals already taken off and the chosen ones on his bed. Koko joined them and he buried his face into the pillow, willing sleep to come.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sasha "Pandora" Dragonov Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Ivonne Stratsky Character Portrait: Cassius St. James Character Portrait: Drew Reinhart
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He heard Drewā€™s remark about Oscar and thought about trying to throw something at him. He heard his retreating footsteps as well, and had nothing to throw other than his precious CD player, soā€¦ well, it was just another thought for Oliverā€™s monster to snack on. Maybe that was why the bad feelings he had never lasted so long? As soon as he had them, some creature gobbled them up. It made a little too much sense for his liking.

He heard someone else leave as well. Pandora, since the footsteps were so quiet. Next came rapid movements that could only be Kanari. Cassā€¦ and then a very appreciated hug. It was hard to stay mad at Ri, even harder when his long hair wound up sweeping across Cassā€™s face, tickling his nose and forcing him to smile. He leaned into the hug, and then wound up looking puzzled after the gatling-gun one-sided conversation, unable even to open his mouth, never mind get a word in edgewise. Heā€™d been just about to ask Ri to walk to his room with him, but then the energetic boy was scampering off to assault someone else.

ā€Good night, Ri. Good night, Drew. Good night, Pandora.ā€ None of them were around to hear it, but he gently said the words anyway. Theyā€™d all run off so fast that he was starting to feel more mopey than uneasy.

He sighed, but then remembered that heā€™d only heard four of his friends take their leave. ā€Eve?ā€. He called out the other boyā€™s name softly, not even sure he was actually still there. He might have gotten it wrong. ā€I donā€™tā€¦ would you maybeā€¦ um, if youā€™re still here, would you maybe want toā€¦ walk with me back to my room?ā€ He placed his hand on the table and got to his feet, listening for a response to indicate that he wasnā€™t just talking to an empty room. In the meantime, he gathered his CD player, tucking it into a pocket of the jacket he was wearing, and then hung the headphones on the back of his neck.

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Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Cassius St. James
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Cass hadnā€™t slept very well.

The walk back to his room from the meeting had been long and fraught with thinking. A few times heā€™d become so absorbed in thought that heā€™d lost track of the steps heā€™d counted, but fortunately, he knew the main hallways well enough to find a landmark and soldier on. His mood had turned pretty sour. It only figured that the one time he actually wanted a hand, some company, no one was around to give it. When he was doing perfectly fine, that was when the offers to help came.

He managed to crawl into bed after putting on a pair of pajamasā€¦ blue and white striped, though he didnā€™t know that. Heā€™d just chosen them by feel from the drawer. They were very light cotton, quite comfortable. That was what really mattered. There were few things that felt as good as slipping into the sheets in a set of really comfortable PJs.

He toggled his alarm clock to chime in the ā€œmorningā€, then made sure the volume was on full blast. It would need to be to compete with the music heā€™d be leaving on. He rolled across the bed to fumble for the small stereo on his other nightstand and started up his Magnetic Fields CD. He endured that for about a minute before deciding it was way too creepy after the evening heā€™d had, then running his fingers along the Braille labels heā€™d made for the CDs that were stacked near the stereo. He went with the original cast recording of Les Miserables, then shuffled back to the middle of the bed to fall asleep.

Except he couldnā€™t. Not immediately. He kept worrying. What if someone (or something) had changed his alarm? He double checked, which was actually quite a process for him, since he had to test to see what time it said it was, and so on, then push the buttons for minutes and hours the right amount of times. Satisfied, he laid down again.

He thought about Oliver and Ri curled up, about how Drew was probably sleeping like a log, like he always did, about Eve and Pandora, how theyā€™d been so quiet at the meeting. He tossed and turned, finally managing to grab a few fitful hours before the alarm went off. He turned off the alarm, then his music, and then heard the knocks on his door.

Lack of sleep made him grumpier than he might have been. He rubbed at his face when Olly swept in, then fell back into his pillows.

ā€Do you have a pretty floral morning gown, Oliver?ā€ he asked a bit sarcastically, poking fun at the fact that the boy had implied as much. Usually he managed to restrain himself from taking the easy shots that Olly provided, but without much sleep and with the insensitivity that Olly had displayed, it slipped out.

He felt guilty and slightly afraid immediately. Not afraid of reprisal, but that heā€™d upset Olly and heā€™d take off. ā€Sorry,ā€ he mumbled, echoing Olly. ā€I didnā€™tā€¦ sleep well at all.ā€ He wrestled out of his sheets and slid to the edge of his bed before standing up and stretching. ā€I donā€™t understand how you get out of bed so early and get ready and everything.ā€ Something of a compliment, hopefully to soothe his ego if the morning gown comment had hit home.

It would have been rude to just head into the bathroom, but then again, if he stood around Oliver might decide he needed help undressing. It had happened before, and Cassā€™ cheeks flared crimson just thinking of it. ā€Can you pick out some clothes for me? While I get ready?ā€ Heā€™d gotten pretty good at handling the other boy. Give him something to help with, that way he wouldnā€™t feel obliged to help with something more embarrassing. He tottered forward, still groggy, then took the ten steps toward his bathroom, brushing his hand on the doorframe to steady himself.

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Character Portrait: Oliver Tanuki Character Portrait: Kanari Tikoto Character Portrait: Cassius St. James
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#, as written by throne
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He stepped into the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light for obvious reasons. There would still be light pouring in through the open door, enough to see him by. He ran his hands along the counter, and then turned the cold water on in the sink, letting it run. Once upon a time he would have been more conservative with his water usage, but that didnā€™t seem to matter as much. He had no qualms about letting the water run while he went about his ablutions, or taking extremely long showers, or better yet baths. If the place they were in could materialize whatever they wanted, he doubted there was any risk of ever running out of good old H2O.

Oliver had agreed to pick him out an outfit, and had been about to say something before Kanari charged in. Cass recognized his voice, of course, and his rapid footsteps, and he definitely recognized the sound of two boys falling to the ground in an awkward post-tackle tangle of limbs. Heā€™d been on the receiving end of those tackles often enough that it wasnā€™t remotely hard to discern what had happened in the adjacent room.

While Kanari rambled, Cass was only paying half-attention. He was more focused on getting his toothbrush out of the little holder. His fingertips brushed the bristles as he tried for it, but then he had it in hand. Opening the medicine cabinet, he reached for the tube of toothpaste. He kept it dead center on the bottom shelf so it would be easy to find. Heā€™d just gotten his hands on it when suddenly, something grabbed him. He let out a yelp of surprise and wound up knocking the tube of toothpaste down onto the floor; it sort of bounced, and wound up near the corner where the wall met the bathtub.

It was hard to be mad at someone when they were hugging you. Riā€™s warmth was familiar, and he relaxed quickly enough. ā€Iā€™m fine, Iā€™m fine. You shouldnā€™t just run in and hug people in the bathroom, Ri. What if Iā€™d been-ā€œ He cut off. He didnā€™t want to say any of the things that would complete that sentence, not with Oliver in ear shot. With Kanari he wouldnā€™t have held back so much, just to get his point across. Heā€™d found that he had to be pretty blunt with Kanari when it came to anything to do with personal privacy. That was when Oliver told Kanari to go, and Cass couldnā€™t help but feelā€¦ well, whatever the opposite of the jealousy heā€™d felt last night was. He didnā€™t think of it as a competition at all. It was more that there was only so much time, and Oliver spent a lot of it being prickly, so Cass valued what moments they did have without the more eccentric boys around.

ā€It wonā€™t take long, Riā€¦ I donā€™t need to shower or anything. Before you go though, can you grab my toothpaste?ā€ Heā€™d been too surprised to listen for where it had fallen, and it could have taken him many minutes to locate it. In the meantime, he touched his fingers to the hot water knob then moved his hand to the left until he found the soap he kept there. It was a face wash, something meant for sensitive skin. His pale flesh didnā€™t react well to harsher soaps, but fortunately, he could get whatever kind of soap he wanted. This soap had a clean, medicinal scent rather than any kind of fragrance. Squeezing a dollop into his hands, he worked up a lather, dipping his hands beneath the stream of the faucet for just a second to add some water to the equation. He started washing his face, actually closing his eyes (it wasnā€™t something he did often while he was awake) to avoid getting any suds in them. He rubbed his face vigorously, and washed his neck as well, then tilted his head to either side to wash behind his ears. He got a little out of breath doing it, or rather, heā€™d held his breath, not wanting any soap in his mouth or nose, then reached out with his right hand, managing to grab the clean towel that he hung there each evening after his nighttime rituals. He wet it, giving his face a cleansing wipe, then used the dry part of the towel to finish up. By then, he should have had his toothpaste again.

Oliver would find plenty of clothing to choose from. Cass favored short pants on the baggy side, so there were several pairs in a few different colors. He usually wore short-sleeved button down shirts over an undershirt, and the same was true of them; many colors, patterns, styles. Heā€™d had the machine spit out whatever. Color really didnā€™t mean anything to him. So long as it was comfy, he would have worn hot pink all the time. Even so, he hoped that Olly would pick out something that he liked Cass in. Underwear and socks would be the easiest part. The top drawer had nothing but clean tighty-whiteys and ankle socks. He didnā€™t like crew or tube socks. They felt weird on his calves.