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Jericho V. Remington

"Everything you're running away from is in your head."

0 · 591 views · located in Ellium

a character in “Return to Reality”, originally authored by Castle, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description





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|{Full Name}|
Jericho Vincent Remington

|{Nickname}|
"Hell, anything but Jeri."

|{Birthday}|
February 12th, 1964

|{Species}|
"Known as a Basilisk, last I checked."

|{Sexuality}|
"I would normally choose to remain ambiguous, but what can I say? I'm a man of color."
Gay.

|{Occupation}|
Currently unemployed.

|{Role}|
The Cold-Blooded

|{Mentality}|
"The politics aren't something I control, and it definitely isn't my problem, so why should I waste my energy?"
Segregation throughout the world is not something Jericho particularly claims to care about, though it is a topic he finds certainly uncomfortable to bring up. The truth is, he really wouldn't mind if all species became a little closer. There's something about change that excites him.




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{"When life seems dangerous and unmanageable,
just remember that it is, and you can't survive forever.”
}
-Cecil Baldwin



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|{Personality}|

Jericho is complex in the simplest of ways. Considered a "bad-boy" at first-glance, surely his appearance and not-so-gracious attitude give off that impression. Though, there seems to be another layer beneath that. Reckless but grounded - ambitious but leisurely - unemotional but curious. All of which may or may not have relativity to one another, truly dependent on how you examine him. If you were to ask someone who knew him quite well, they'd say "Vince" might as well be an actor with a million faces, but that bad-boy complexion always remains on top.

Honesty is something he swears by, but it may be hard to tell if his honesty is merely deception. He falls in between a leader and follower, his assertiveness in constant competition with his obedience. By these he may associate with all different types of people, proving to be helpful under certain circumstances. There is a quick wit about Jericho, a sharp tongue, with sarcasm to spare. This could possibly add to the negative vibe others may get from him. His motives for the most part remain unknown, perhaps he has none at all.




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{"Alcohol may be man's worst enemy, but the bible says love your enemy.” }
-Frank Sinatra




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|{Place of Origin}|
East London, England

|{History}|
Unfortunately raised by both parents up until the age of 9 when his mother split and his older sister moved out, this would probably be his worst memory. This had hurt Jericho most of everyone, his mother being the person he was closest with. All his memories of her began to fade after that, and his father wasn't the most reliable person. He drank, he got violent, it was a classic sob story, and for that Jericho was and would never been keen on sharing. His mom had always been such a kind lady, she seemed so in love with his father, it was indeed a mystery why she so suddenly disappeared. His grades dropped, he began ignoring his responsibilities which began effecting him more and more everyday. There was nothing his father nor sister could do for him to change that, and living in a family of serpents, there was always a fight to be won, and Jericho was winning [well I guess you could say that].

Jericho had a track record of lying from then on out. He would get stressed out, he'd get a bloody nose, and then frequently lie about them, telling stories of rough fights where he gladly earned them. He began to attract that kind of attention and his fibbing became near authentic. He got hurt, he hurt another, he got in trouble. It was a cycle nobody could stop. It certainly taught him a lesson, but it gives quite the cause to believe he still lies his way through life. A few years later, he had begun itching to get out, get as far away as he could from his father. But having few friends he could fall back on, a job was his best option. He sought out work; soon running into a job in sales. It was natural, but it wasn't him. There was some crack in his personality that made him suitable, that divided him from his bad streak. Things were beginning to work out and the silver lining was showing, [happiest memory], right before his father came back around and stepped in the way of that. Shouting profanities and delayed resentment towards his son over news of his possible sexuality, Jericho was soon fired. He went into modeling for a while, but after his own reality kicked in, he could never achieve that silver lining again.
|{Family Tree}|
| Edward Remington | 456 | Father | Living |
| Josephine Gelder | 448 | Mother | Unknown |
| June Ness Remington | 59 | Sister | Living |





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{"Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance.” }
-Confucius




|{Other}|
He still gets bloody noses often, but he's better at hiding them now.


He's allergic to rodents and other small animals.

Has reading glasses which he does not enjoy using - so he goes without much reading.




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Character Dialogue || #7E587E

Thought Dialogue || #FD6C9E

Face Claim || Ash Stymest

Played by || CTMT; Cas :)

[*Edit; I hope this was enough in your image :) I just went on assuming it was my responsibility to design how the whole Basilisk thing worked out. Oh well.]

So begins...

Jericho V. Remington's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Isis Anya Neferet Character Portrait: Aiden Young Character Portrait: Elizabeth Florence Brown Character Portrait: Spike Days Character Portrait: Fen Zhang Character Portrait: HyunSoo Park Character Portrait: Roisin Callan Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington Character Portrait: Ashton Byrne
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"The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything."
― Albert Einstein


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{ In collaboration with ibecameinsane }




For the newbies, their first time seeing the United States is through tinted glass. Flown to the states from
their home countries, the new cast members are gussied up for their big debut and called one at a time to
be interviewed on worldwide television. The lights are blinding, the set is stifling, and the pressure to
impress the crowd is anything but effortless. Meanwhile, the returning cast members wait in the green room
to be called on stage. Ushered on stage onto a four person couch, they’re coaxed into sharing what they’ve
done since season one. They sit together with smiles plastered on their faces as though they’re old friends
when in truth some of them cannot stand one another. Once they’ve been given enough of the limelight,
they’re all ushered into a private jet and flown to the Isles of Scilly.

The streets are filled to the brim by the curious spectators. Unknowing bystanders, which were few and far
between, were confused by the spectacle while others have flown for all corners of their providence just to
see this event unfold in person. Slowly, the vehicles make their way through the crowded road. As the
limousines closer, the flashes of the cameras of the paparazzi intensified. While most entered the luxurious
premises without too much difficulty, others were faced with the usual complications that came with the fame.
Some fanatics pushed themselves against the vehicles screaming the returning cast's names while others tried
to catch a glimpse of the newbies. As usual, the security crew handled the situation accordingly in order to
proceed promptly with the schedule.

They’re in the house gathered into the living room by the producer who captures their attention with a clasp
of his hands as he stands in front of the fireplace. "Alright everyone, tonight marks the first night of season two. We’ve got
our veterans over here-…"
he gestures to the couch on his left where all but one sit and then to his right where they
huddle around as much as possible, "…-and our newbies. For those who don’t know me, my name is Claude Fauré. You may
address me as anything you see fit. Once I assign you to a bedroom, you will be given a roommate and we’ll begin filming. Now-…”"

He goes through the list, telling each member of the cast where they’ll be staying before he pockets his cellphone
and gives them a look of warning. "“The cameras will be rolling at all times. I reiterate: at all times. Some moments may not
make the final cut but everything will be on film. Because the goal of this season is to prove that different species from different
Providences can in fact live in harmony, I would like to respectfully request that you hold yourself at some level of decency."
With one
last grin he snaps his fingers, ushering the cameramen into the room. "Now, you’ll have about half an hour to get your
things settled before the cameras start rolling so use them wisely."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Spike Days Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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"For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice. To make an end is to make a beginning."
― T.S. Eliot


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If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where Dracen was the night before the first day of shooting or that he spent all that night on the phone with his manager clearing his schedule or how heartfelt his goodbye with his father was and all those meticulous details.There's no reason for it, if you want to know the truth. When the limousine pulls up in front of his house just after the sun breaches the horizon, Dracen leaves nothing but his car behind. The drive to the airport—if you must know—was long, long and uneventful. In fact, he spent most of it texting friends and coworkers or belting out lyrics to whatever song he recognized on the radio. He flew first class to New York and by the time he reached the studio, it was nearly noon. Walking in with McDonald's in hand, Dracen allowed himself to be pulled in all different directions as producers, make-up artists, and stylists fussed around him. He continues eating his nuggets even as he's pulled into a dressing room and handed an outfit to change into. His utter nonchalance about the whole thing is so completely contrasting compared to how he was at the start of the first season that's it's almost amusing. Abigail, his makeup artist, says as much when she enters the room.

"Who are you and what have you done with my dorky little bundle of sunshine?" she jests, setting up her kit as he tugs on the long-sleeved shirt he was given.

Dracen smiles, "I'm not all that different, Abby." In hindsight, perhaps, but the wyvern wasn't the scrawny little whelp of a lad he was a couple of years ago. Now that he has experience under his belt, he moves about the routine of a television star with an effortless fluidity. He sits back in the makeup chair as Abigail runs her fingers through his hair. Yes, hair. He has that this season.

"Says Mr. Rise to Fame-..." Abigail says, running a little gel through his hair and tousling it, giving it the sought after 'just crawled out of bed' look. She moved about the chair, making a few touch ups here and there but otherwise not caking him with foundation as she would anyone else.

There's a knock on the door and a stage-hand lets herself in, "Ten minutes, Mister Mallory."

"We know, we know-..." Abigail groans, shooing the stage-hand out the door with a wave of her hand. She turns back to Dracen and groans, "Pushy little interns"

"What's in ten minutes?" Dracen asks, his eyelids fluttering as Abigail combs his eyebrows.

"Photoshoot." she replies, "It's mandatory, I'm afraid-..." With a soft lead of her fingertips, she tips Dracen's head back and give him a warm smile. "You may be all grown up now but you know how they want you to act, don't you?"

"I have to play The Spazz, I know." he answers, eliciting a long suffering sigh, "Not that it'll be that hard. I always end up making a fool of myself one way or another, don't I?"

Abigail offers a comforting smile and pats his cheek, "You'll be fine, sweetie. Just go out there and be your lovable, goofy self."

And he does. As always Dracen delivers when it comes to portraying a hyperactive spazz. During the photoshoot he throws himself about the set, having fun with different poses and leaping into the air. When he modeled clothes he was never given this kind of freedom, but it came with becoming an actor. Next, the interview, and what fun that was. Perhaps the only thing that puts a smile on his face is the chance to see Spike and even then they don't get to talk much. Still, he sits beside her on the couch as he tells the live studio audience what he's been up to since season one let out. He listens and smiles, his grin causing his amber eyes to glow in the spotlight, as Spike talks about her own misadventures. Of course the two of them kept in touch since the show let out so he's heard all these stories. Regardless, he hasn't seen her in over a month so you can't blame him for missing his little flame-haired companion.

They sit beside one another on the plane and prattle on like old friends do, moving around in his seat in a completely animated way throughout the trip. They finally reach the Isles and are separated in three different limos. In the first is the veterans, lounging about lethargically as they drive down winding roads to get to the house. He has his head in Spike's lap, sprawled out in a tangle of awkward limps until they pull up in front of the impressive manor. Inside, they're ushered into the living room as their belongings are taken upstairs. He listens as Claude speaks, smiling as he talks because it's just so reminiscent of his first time on the show. As he assigns roommates and bedrooms, Dracen hears his name paired with a newbie he doesn't know. Not that he cares, mind, he's always open to meeting new people. He cannot wait to find out more about this Jericho Remington.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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#, as written by Castle
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Jericho sat uncomfortably the entire morning. As if it wasn't enough to be trapped on a plane for ten hours, but to be expected to act accordingly in front of cameras at all the right moments, that was a trip in itself. Not that Jericho really cared - or anything. In light of the great change that was about to occur, there was a part of the young man that felt relieved to get out. He had lived with his sister off and on, trying to support himself. It must've been his own fault, but at least now he hadn't much to worry about. Greater things were soon to come, but he couldn't bring himself to be grateful. Thankfully, his sister had dropped him off at the airport, painting on her best attitude.

"I'm really happy you're doing this."

Jericho stared at the dashboard of the Equinox for several seconds. "Yeah, me too." There was a bitterness in his voice, and it was clear June had caught it.

"Jer, please, try an-"

"Don't call me that," Jericho reached for the door handle abruptly.

"Jericho."

He paused, sitting back in his seat. The car went silent for a moment. June pulled a kerchief from her pocket and set it on his lap, knowing he'd forgotten to pack it. Jericho's shoulders fell. He took it, wrapping it around his hand like a bandage.

Before could say so much as a thank you, June had grabbed him around the back of the head, pulling him in to kiss him on the forehead as a mother might. He stifled a frown, pulling away soon after. Jericho then exited the car and pulled his things out the back. His sister had rolled down the window as if to look at him one more time.

"Goodbye, June." He made an effort to say anything at all. His throat was so dry, he thought it might dissolve. She didn't say goodbye in return, she only nodded and gave him her best reassuring smile. They both knew this was for the best. It was an odd departure, but it was over.

The plane ride was just as he'd expected. "Long," was probably the best word to use, along with many other colorful words Jericho would probably choose to describe it. As he was made up and rushed to the interview he knew this was it, this was the beginning of what he had signed up for and he had to get used to it. It wasn't hard for him to relax at this point. He knew the feeling of being in front of a camera, but never had the people behind the camera cared enough to hear what he had to say. So in a strange way, this was exciting.

There were several more transitions before the whole cast had arrived at the house. Jericho finally got to actually see everyone, few of which caught his attention. Though he was particularly eyeing the veterans, giving the scary looking one his crooked smile and a wink.

Claude began announcing roommates, and the Basilisk discovered he was rooming with one of the veterans. Dracen.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Aiden Young Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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As soon as she could hear the limousine approaching from miles away, the fiery Urulóki had already begun to roll her eyes in annoyance. She had almost forgotten how quiet her former lifestyle was prior to when she entered Return to Reality. Now, her life consisted of endless pestering from the paparazzi even when her job had nothing to do with the showbiz, or anything nearly as pompous as the other Veterans, she was a doctor with a knack for the business world for goodness sakes. Of course, being the usual hot head she was, she had no problem whatsoever in taking care of the maniacs who had a hard time understanding she wanted to be left alone.

At first she had a clear mission in mind, either call out to other Fire Drakes or do everything in her power to help so that the segregation would not be as strict for her to search for them herself. The Fire Drakes or Urulóki had nearly become extinct and, since most emigrated centuries before she had been born, she would do everything she could to find more of her kin. However, now that she knew segregation had a long way to be eradicated she could care less to do as much as even attempt to get along with those she found worthy of her time. In truth, she wasn't quite exactly sure as to why she wanted to back to the show but she could not lie being in the show had it's benefits. After reading a lengthy letter from Claude, the executive producer, whom after knowing how much Eleniel hates technology opted to use a method to which she was more comfortable. The eloquent monster had managed to convince her to make a comeback along with other three veterans.

The limousine had arrived and Eleniel walked through the set with an air of superiority, assuming her role immediately. It would not be a lie to say she enjoyed being The Bitch, Elleh had no problem accepting it was also a part of who she was. Immediately, Alexandria briefed her for the activities they would have while she prepped her up for the photo shoot. "You haven't changed a bit. How fortunate of you to have such a fitting role." The younger monster said with a touch of sarcasm after explaining the schedule. Eleniel crossed her long legs and the red-haired monster then began to brush her hair. "Is that so Medusa?" she questioned, in when in her own eyes she believed she had changed. "I do have to admit it makes things easier for me." Eleniel said somewhat amused. "I'd say the same but you certainly seem different." Eleniel said sharply before she took a pause and continued, "Perhaps you thought Claude would let you in this time as The pretentious whore?" Eleniel said remembering seeing her before in the casting interviews. Alexandria immediately feel silent as she continued to brush her hair perhaps with more force than it was needed.

"They are waiting for you-..." said Bain shortly after the small showdown between Alexia and Eleniel.

"Let them." Eleniel said almost immediately. Bain immediately gave her the eyes showing discomfort. After noticing Eleniel would not listen to his silent pleas he finally gave in. It was unusual for Eleniel not to be punctual but then again, she wasn't particularly in the mood to be questioned or taken pictures of. "Suit yourself..." he finally said before he took it into his own hands to apologize to the crew.

The photo shoot did not take long, fortunately, Eleniel did not have to do much and unlike most of the cast she did not have to do poses or even smile for that matter. Shortly after, she was interviewed and as usual Eleniel spoke with supremacy. Instead of focusing in herself and what she had been doing off cameras, she spoke of the Fire Drake in general.

Finally, they had arrived to the luxurious house where they would be spending most of their time where she met the newbies for the first time. Not wanting to take a seat next to either the veterans or the newbies she remained standing up casually near Claude. She stared at everyone with a critical gaze, and before her mood could be ruined any longer she picked a cigarette from her pocket. Immediately she lit her the head of the cigarette with a small fire ball from her mouth. Eleniel blew out a blast of smoke through her nostrils appearing like the dragon that she was. As soon as she gave another look at the newbies she noticed one in particular who gazed back at her and winked at her comfortably. Another puff of smoke followed and her immediate reaction was a raised eyebrow with a death stare.

As soon as Claude gave his mini speech an announced who would be paired with who Eleniel was almost huffing in anger. Fucking. Hell. She immediately thought, now taking a seat not knowing what she'd say to the man in one of her outbursts. This was, without a doubt, Claude's payback for her being late for the photo shoot and the interview. Eleniel then burnt the cigarette with her hand destroying evidence it had ever even been in her hand before she saw Aiden leaning closer to her and giving his witty and flirtatious line. Eleniel immediately clenched her fist before she stared at Aiden with a dirty look. "I'll be anything but gentle, I can promise you that much." She snapped before she left the couch and headed towards their room and made her claims on to what would be hers being the territorial monster she was.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Aiden Young Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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#, as written by Castle
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If anything was clear, it was that Eleniel was not one to play. Exhaling, he untied the kerchief that had been fastened around his palm. Jericho glanced around one last time at the other newbies. He could go on and try to interact, but it just wasn't worth it. He'd have a chance later on. However, Dracen lingered around the edges of his mind for a while. There were only two men amid the veterans. He could have been the one that had been bouncing around all day, or the one with the big lips and curly hair. He figured he'd find out eventually, and with that he began heading off to find his room.

The house was large, much larger than Jericho had really even thought about, but it was built for twelve people, so sooner or later it wouldn't seem so big. The young Basilisk turned a few corners, finding the kitchen and dining room, and soon the stairs. He went up to search for the bedrooms, which were all lined plainly in rows. Bedroom two, Jericho reminded himself. It obviously didn't take long at all to find it. The room was grand, much nicer than he would have thought in the first place. On top of that, it was comforting to see his things had made it safely. He chose the bed nearest the door, and pulled his suitcase onto the blue lounge chair. He decided he'd unpack later.

Jericho pulled out his box of cigarettes and a lighter and threw them lazily on to the nearest night stand. He spotted something else. Packed neatly in the corner of his suit case was one of those historical fiction books June had been nagging him to read. Master and God by Lindsey Davis. Attached to it was a note that read:

"I thought you should take this as
something to ease your mind at night.
Please treat it well and have a good time. =P
Sincerely, June"


Jericho cleared his throat. Pulling the note from the cover, he placed it between the pages. The Basilisk sat on the side of his bed and flipped through the book thoughtfully. It was best now, to wait for his roommate to arrive.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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"Be genuinely interested in everyone you meet and everyone you meet will be genuinely interested in you"
― Rasheed Ogunlaru


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{ In collaboration with Castiel Told Me To }






The moment whisky colored eyes catch the embroidered two on the door, Dracen finds it almost difficult to breathe. What if he can’t do this? What if he’s nothing but a nuisance and he ruins this one chance in making someone from another providence—another species—like him? Plummeting in a torrent of self-doubt and negative thinking, his gaze fall to his hand. Its shaking, scant inches away from the doorknob, fingers poised to grasp it. Alright Drace, don’t overthink this. He’s just a regular guy-…right? He might even be hot. Just go in there and be yourself. Before he can convince himself otherwise—before he can recollect exactly where ‘being himself’ has gotten him in the past—he thrusts open the door and walks over the threshold.

In regards to the room, it’s not any more extravagant that the rooms from season one or any of the hotel rooms he had to stay in during a shoot. Dracen knew the fate of his side of the room. As soon as he dove into his belongings there would be an assortment of different photographs, newspaper clippings, posters, movie tickets—anything of sentimental value really—all hanging up on the wall. His navy blue duvet would be sprawled over the mattress and he’d pull his pillow out of his suitcase because he can’t sleep without his pillow. Damn it Drace-…focus. His gaze falls to the young man perched on the bed with a book in his hand and an overall countenance of ‘I hate the world and all who inhabit it’ about him.

Softly shutting the door behind him, he puts on a meek smile and shoves his hands deep in his pockets. Just one foot in front of another-... he thinks as he inches forward. When he’s caught his roommate’s attention his smile broadens and he pulls a hand out to offer a shy wave, ”Uhh-…hey.” You're kinda hot. ”I’m Dracen. Wyvern. United States. You must be Jericho-...”

Reacting to the click of the door, Jericho felt his muscles stiffen. He slid the book under his pillow, failing to draw the attention of his new roommate away from it. It was obviously an awkward transition for the both of them. Jericho stood as he was taught, though there was a slight unsurety to the way he moved. The sight before him held a young man with brown hair, not nearly as dark as his own. He was only a little taller, but barely enough to notice. And just as Jericho had thought before, he was in fact the bouncy one.

Jericho swallowed past the lump in his throat and gave a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. ”Jericho Remington,” he returned, his heavy cockney accent warping the pronunciation of his name. “Basilisk, England.” He extended his hand in the proposal of a handshake.

Taking the hand presented to him, Dracen’s meager smile erupted into an outright grin. “Whoa, you’re a Basilisk? And here I am not knowing Parseltongue-…” The brunet pales suddenly, his smile diminished to nothing as fear has him stricken stiff. “Was that racist? Species-ist? Crap, I’m worse than this than I thought. Fuck.” He lets go of Jericho’s hand as his palms start to sweat. Attempting to cover his embarrassment with a chuckle does nothing to ease his anxiety. In fact, it elicits a dose of projectile word vomit; a spiel he’s sure will embarrass him forever. “It’s just, you know, your accent is really cool and you’re actually not that bad looking like—at all—and on top of that you’re one of my favorite species of water-type monsters and I should really stop talking before you start to think I'm a total freak-…” As if to prevent himself from doing so, he inhales to catch his breath before tucking his lips in and out of sight.

Jericho’s jaw tightens into a smile, a light chuckle escaping by an exhale. For a moment he seemed a little more authentic. ”Well it isn’t everyday I can say I’ve met a dragon.” Jericho rubbed the back of his neck, the craving for a cigarette beginning to kick in. “Can’t say I know Parseltongue either, I suppose that’s what happens when you don’t pay attention in school.” He plays another fake smile.

Dracen is beyond relieved that he didn’t totally offend the guy; that much was evident. His ears prickle at the sound of the Brit’s laughter, his heart leaping with exuberance knowing Jericho might actually have a sense of humor. Plus, he recognized the Harry Potter reference. How cool is that!? “I still can’t believe you’re a badass python, dude, that’s crazy.” he says on a grin, “I hate to disappoint you so early though—‘cause you know I usually like to wait until someone takes a liking to me before I crush their dreams—but I’m not technically a dragon. I’m more of a snake with wings, if that makes sense? I mean, I have two legs. But I’m a totally softie compared to dragons like the Fire-Drakes. Oh! Like, Ellie. She’s one.”

“Snake with wings, eh?” Jericho’s pocket began to buzz loudly. “All I’ve got is a beak.” His replies became mumbles as his focus shifted. The Basilisk pulled the cell out and checked the caller ID. It was June. “Shit - I have to take this.” He glanced up at Dracen with the most apologetic expression he could make before answering, which was saying very little. Then began the one-sided conversation that he didn’t want to have. She was agitated, and went on for what felt like forever.

“Sorry.” He cut off the voice coldly. “Look, I haven’t had any time-...” Jericho sat on the edge of the bed, fighting back a frown. ”June.” He avoided looking at Dracen during the drawn out pause where the tiny voice took over. He knew this wouldn’t make a good impression. “Well I’m alive! Calm the fuck down!” He retorted. Yet another pause and Jericho’s face twisted into regret. “No, no, no, that’s not necessary-... June.”

Nodding in understanding, Dracen backed away to give Jericho some privacy, pulling out what he called his ‘sentiment suitcase’ where he’d packed everything he couldn’t leave his house without. As the Basilisk spoke into the phone, he tore the comforter from his bed by the window and folded it neatly before tucking it under the bed draping his navy blue duvet over the white sheets. His pillow came next, tossed atop the four pillows that’d occupied the head of the bed already. Still, even as he made the bed, half of his attention was on Jericho—made obvious by the snort of a laugh as his roommate swore. He’s been there, honestly, so he empathized with the guy. Still, he kept himself busy with unpacking to give Jericho an allure of privacy despite their close quarters.

“So watch the fucking show and you won’t have to call.” He sighed. ”I’m hanging up now.” The phone beeped and the call was over. Jericho tossed the iPhone across the bed and traded it out for the box of cigarettes. He examined them, counting how many were left. ”Seventeen.” He muttered to himself. He didn’t want to seem like the phone call effected him.

”Cigarettes don’t taste the same in America,” Jericho said aloud, “did you know that?” He spread himself out across the bed, trying to leave behind his old attitude. The Basilisk looked over at Dracen, who seemed content with designing his new living space. It was amusing to watch, but Jericho didn’t let the smile through.

As the phone conversation continues, Dracen makes quick work of his shoes—toeing them off as he delves into the suitcase for thumbtacks and wall ornaments. Decorating his space to feel more like home was always therapeutic for him, both during and after the assembly process. For one thing, it helps him focus, demanding all of his attention to ensure that nothing falls in the middle of the night. As far as Dracen was concerned, it was all organized chaos. Anything involving a memory is placed above his bed so he can look at it whenever he’s in the room. Posters and paintings of nature scenes—of which he has an abundance—are hung on the ceiling so it’s the last thing he sees before he falls asleep. Though it seems ridiculous in the eyes of others, it’s kept him from many a sleepless night. Nature’s always had that effect on him, he supposed.

He’s tacking posters on the ceiling when Jericho ends the call, thumbtacks held between his lips as artisan fingers skim across the wall’s surface. Despite how focused he is, he reacts immediately to the Brit’s inquiry, snapping his head to the side and emitting a muffled, ”Wha-…?” before all of the tacks fall from his lips.

Groaning, he mutters a soft curse and scrambles to pick them up, a poster of an oceanic landscape falling behind the headboard as a result. Dracen straightens immediately once all eight are accounted for, standing on the mattress as if it were any other floor, finally looking Jericho in the eye now that the crisis is averted. ”Sorry dude, not a smoker. I’ll tell you what is universal though-…” he jumps down from the bed, getting on his hands and knees with his back towards his roommate as he reaches for the poster that sank beneath the bed. ”Whoever June is, she obviously cares about you. My pops was the same way my first day of season one. Totally flipped out because I hadn’t called to say I made it to the house.” Letting out a victorious cry of “Aha!” when he seizes the poster, Dracen jumps to his feet and shoots Jericho a smile that just oozes self-pride. Getting back on the bed to adorn his ceiling, he prattles on as if he hadn’t been a complete and utter klutz, “Family’s like that, you know? Unless of course she’s not family-…” he quickly adds, making an effort to keep his eyes upward. ”Which is totally cool.” Not to mention completely devastating and a total waste. ”But yeah, the cigarettes probably don’t taste the same because our tobacco just sucks in comparison. I doubt it ages well.”

Fiddling with the box, the Basilisk continues to watch Dracen resiliently recover some of the fallen posters. Another chuckle managed to escape him. “You’re going to lose an eye if you’re not careful,” Jericho says, disregarding the Wyvern’s agreement on the awful tobacco. He let his head fall back to stare at the blank ceiling above him, holding this position for several seconds. ”She's my older sister,” he finally adds. The patronizing speech from his new roommate wasn’t exactly something Jericho wanted to hear, especially from some git he just met. ”She’s only got nine years over me, I don’t see why she has to be so…parental.”

Smirking at the jest, Dracen continues his ministrations with brows furrowed in concentration. When Jericho tells him the person on the phone was his sister, he catches the wyvern’s attention. Being an only child himself, he didn’t know what it was like having an older sibling to watch over him or a younger sibling to protect. Though, from the Basilisk’s tone, Dracen would wager that the former wasn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. “I wouldn’t know, dude-…” he says on a shrug, an amused grin lighting up his features. “Cross-breeding usually leaves for a single egg in the batch.”

Jericho’s crooked smile appears, allowing himself another glance in the direction of Dracen. Spoken as a tease, he says, ”Enough about me, what about your parents? What’s it like living in a family of softie-dragons?” He sat up all the way, propping himself against the large headrest. Dracen was doing a thorough job tacking, from what the Basilisk could see, it looked as though he had nearly every inch above his bed covered in some form of a memory. The iPhone began to buzz again, but all Jericho did was turn off the ringer. He knew it was probably June or his father, but he could really care less.

“S’just me and dad, actually.” he replies with nonchalance, leaning back on his heels to revel in his handiwork. With a nod he deemed it ready and flopped down on the mattress, his legs crossed and his effervescent eyes trained on the Basilisk lounging on the opposite bed. “He’s one of the only wyverns I know. Veronica from last season, she was one, but she’s a total sweetheart compared to my old man. Guess growing up on your own does that to a person. Still though, I know wyverns are supposed to be these pacifistic spirits of nature and all but we can be badass when we want to be. I mean, you know what they say. Mother Nature’s a bitch.”

”So your mum left, huh?” Jericho asks, memories of his own childhood pressing to the front of his train of thought. ”What kind of monster was she?” Now that Dracen was relaxed, the energy in the room felt a lot more comfortable.

His smile was a ghost of what it once was at Jericho’s topic of choice. Dracen hated a lot about himself but the one thing he liked—the one habit that he was content with—was his seemingly effortless, long-winded prose. He could say more on a single breath than most could in four. And yet, out of everything he’d said, Jericho chose the whole ‘mother’ issue to backpack on. It was a bit disappointing, to say the least, perhaps a bit upsetting. Dracen was usually a vivacious person by nature. Bringing up memories of his late mother didn’t really put him in the best spirits. He shrugs on a muse, Misery loves company, I guess.

“Urulóki-...” says Dracen, “Fire-Drakes are creatures of habit and tradition so her family wasn’t really supportive of her marrying my father because of the whole inter-species thing. They disowned her. Wouldn’t even show up to her funeral.”

It hadn’t occurred to Jericho that Dracen might be sensitive to the question, but it struck him immediately when he noticed. There was a long pause. ”I shouldn’t have brought it up - sorry.” He looked the Wyvern in the eyes, to make up for his poor apology. “My mother left so I just assumed-...” Jericho swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a minute, his gaze trailing to his feet. This was probably the best time to unpack.

“Don’t worry about it Jericho-...” Dracen says with a smile. Though it doesn’t reach his ears it’s meant to comfort the Basilisk. Well, it would if the guy bothered to look at him. Pocketing his phone, Dracen stands and opens his arms to his roommate; an action that immediately captures Jericho’s attention. When all he receives is an incredulous look in return, the wyvern beckons him in with a wave of his hands. “Come on dude, you totally owe me. I’m a softie-dragon, remember? I have to get my cuddle in sometime and we can either hash it out now or when the cameras are rolling, it’s up to you.”

The look on Jericho’s face could be compared to that of somebody who was just asked to rob a bank, and it was quite possible that Jericho would have handled robbing a bank a lot better than this. He shook his head, standing up to meet Dracen’s height. “Fuck off,” he groaned, grabbing the lighter that sat on the nightstand and making his way to the door of their room.

Dracen harrumphs, whisky-colored eyes sizing the Basilisk up as his arms fall limp at his side. So much for comforting the dude. His eyes flash, golden light shining like glow sticks as he hisses an almost reptilian sound. Its animalistic quality could be mistake as a challenge if he hadn’t put his hands up like little serpent puppets by his head. Laughing at himself, he meanders to the foot of the bed where his suitcase is and begins to unpack. There’s ten minutes until show time and, from the looks of it, he’ll be spending it alone.

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Character Portrait: Aiden Young Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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Jericho made his way down the stairs at a moderate pace, knowing he had little time before the cameras would start rolling, he thought it best to get outside as soon as possible. A few of the cast members had remained on the main floor, including big-lips, the one he’d originally thought might be Dracen, but that didn’t stop him. He took a cigarette carefully out of the carton and gave it a few taps. Soon enough he was out the front door, and alone. The Basilisk had thought very little about how exhausting all this interaction was, leaving him dying for a smoke.

At least now he was gladly out, lighting a “well earned” cigarette in his opinion. It wasn’t until now that he really understood how isolated they were out here. Buried in cameras, but caught in the middle of nowhere. He drug the hair out of his face with his free hand, gratefully feeling the nicotine kick in.

Aiden gave a cat-like stretch on the sofa before pushing himself to his feet. Half the cast members had drifted upstairs to their rooms, while the rest were still hanging around the lounge. While Aiden might have enjoyed teasing Eleniel some more, self-preservation was telling him to hold off for a while. So, rather than head upstairs he set his feet towards the outdoors.

There he spotted one of his fellow cast members. His name eluded Aiden, as the names of most of the cast did too. The only thing he was sure of was that the newbie was some kind of snake monster, although what exactly also escaped him.
"Oi, Snake boy. Spare me a cig?" Aiden asked, coming to stand beside the newbie.

Jericho’s stare drifted toward the sound of a new voice. A make-believe frown spread across his face. “Snake boy?” Exhaling whatever smoke still remained inside his lungs, he lobbed the pack over to Aiden. The expression washed away in a matter of seconds. “What does that make you?” Jericho cocked his head to examine man beside him, evidently at a loss for what he was.

Aiden caught the packet with one hand, pulled a cigarette out with the other, and then threw the pack back. "I'm the cat's pajamas, darling." Aiden replied, his usual smirk on his face. "Although I guess if you're after technical terms, I'm a Gryphon. You know, half eagle, half lion. King of the sky and land. I'm a pretty big deal." Aiden explained, flapping his hands like wings to emphasis his words. Glancing down at his unlit cigarette he held it up towards the basilisk, "Got a light, snake boy?"

”You sound like high maintenance to me,” Jericho dissented, putting away the box. He withdrew the pocket lighter and lit the proud Gryphon’s cigarette. “If you’re such a big deal, what title would you prefer?” The Basilisk asked sincerely. “‘Cause I rather like the sound of the name Twat. Letting his own cigarette hang from his mouth Jericho slid the lighter away and adjusted the dark purple kerchief now wrapped around his wrist, pushing it beneath his sleeve when it was to his liking.

Aiden took a drag on his cigarette, listening to the other boys comments with a smirk on his face. Insults usually slide right off him, and this isn't the first time Aiden has been called Twat, it's actually one of the kinder titles he's heard.

"Ouch, that one almost hurt." Aiden said, his words dripping with sarcasm. He turned towards the Basilisk, leaning his shoulder against the wall, "If you're after a more intimate name you can call me Aiden." The Gryphon suggested, winking at his smoking companion.

”Alright, Aiden it is.” Jericho glanced back at Aiden as if he didn’t see the wink at all. “Jericho,” he said after taking another long puff, allowing the silence to drag on for a while. The Basilisk let the smoke out through his nose this time, opening his mouth for its release feeling like too much work. “And you’re the only ‘king’ around here.” He added, returning the wide smirk with his own crooked smile. ”I’m a Basilisk, so not only am I a snake, but I’m a king of a lot of snakes.” Jericho said this as a joke for the most part, the idea of being a snake ruling a ton of other snakes sounding pretty lame in that instant. ”So you ought to look out.”

Aiden laughed loudly, "What are you going to do Jer, slither into my bed and bite me?" Aiden asked. He took a final drag on his cigarette, before flicking it to the ground and stomping it out. "Help! Snake King is sending an army of reptiles to ravage me." He teased with his usual careless, mocking tone.

”Well, at the least I could very well bite you,” snake boy replied coolly, “if the situation called for it.” Jericho smiled faintly again, dropping his cigarette and stepping on it. Comparing himself to others wasn’t something he was good at, so he snickered along with Aiden.

"Calm down slick, didn't your mother ever teach you that biting was bad?" Aiden replied with his usual twist of humour. He glanced behind him briefly, aware of the sudden increase in noise inside. He assumed the cameras weren't far from rolling.
"Although maybe that's how you get your kicks, biting good-looking young men like myself. Aiden added with a laugh, "That's a bit perverted, don't you think? I mean, at least ask first." His tone was still mildly mocking, but he'd also put on a reprimanding tone, one that his father often used when talking to him. Of course, like most things he said he wasn't serious, but he liked seeing if he could get a raise out of people.

“Me? Perverted? Never.” Jericho placed a hand over his heart and tried his best to look blameless, which did actually very little. ”Sorry to say my mum wasn’t there to tell me nipping at little boys like you was wrong.”

Letting his arm fall to his side, he rolled his shoulders back to gain a little more height. ”Awful lot of talk about biting, why ask when it sounds like you’re offering,” Jericho riposted incisively, raising his brow at Aiden. His weight shifted, realizing that their free time was coming to an end.

Aiden was rather surprised that the sulky basilisk had some humour in him. He'd certainly not got this impression from watching his interview earlier that day. Then again Aiden hadn't actually been paying attention to any of the interviews, his eyes had been drawn to the attractive twins eyeing him up from the audience. With such attention it had been easy to miss whole interviews with the newbies.

"Why would I offer to be bitten? That shit would hurt." Aiden retorted, scrunching his nose up. "I don't know what you're into buddy or what customs your people have, but here in America we don't go around biting people." Aiden added. He snorted, cocked a smile, and pointed a finger at his face, "'Sides, I'm too pretty to be bitten."

Jericho snickered again. ”Dunno if pretty is the word I’d use.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. ”But ‘ey, whatever helps you sleep at night, Twat.” Snake boy gave Aiden a wink that looked to be in delayed-return of the one he’d previously received, but nonetheless a fine wink. With that, he head towards the door without another thought.

Aiden raised his eyebrows at Jericho's words, "No need to be rude." He muttered, setting his feet in the opposite direction. This Gryphon was in the mood for a swim. He hadn't seen a pool, but he assumed any place this fancy had to have it. Besides, the world was crying out for some bare-chested Aiden (or so he assumed) and he wouldn't deny his loyal fans.

Back inside, Jericho was greeted with the view of the lovely architecture, as well as even more cameramen than before.


Holy hell they’re multiplying.

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Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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The sound that her heels made within her every step resonated though the hallways as she walked with a steady pace and her head held up high. Eleniel made her way through the corridors with an aggressive stand and a take-no-nonsense attitude. Her mood wasn't at its best upon her arrival so one could only imagine her annoyance after hearing she'd be rooming with Aiden, one of Eleniel's most hated cast member from the previous season. Upon finally reaching the bedroom number four she set her bags on top of the bed that was closet to the window, making her first claim. She sat down on the bed with her armed crossed on her stomach for a few moments before she remembered the clock was ticking. After realizing there were but a couple of minutes before the cameras started recording her every move, she decided to leave the dorm. In all honesty, she didn't exactly felt like fighting with the obnoxious Gryphon on their first day, there would be plenty of time for that later on.

As she walked, Eleniel began to sink in deep thought and wondered once more why she had even accepted to come back to the show. It wasn't like she enjoyed being pestered by the media whenever they pleased or as if she needed the show's help to achieve what she needed. Furthermore, the failure of the first season had already proven that segregation still had a long way to go. Still, she had to admit that being on the show had its benefits. Coming back to her senses, she shook her head before she spotted one of the newbies, to be more specific the newbie who had sent a wink her way when Claude introduced everyone and assigned bedrooms. Alongside, she noticed some of the cameramen following them attentively, most likely because the cameras would start rolling in any given minute. Eleniel spotted Bain doing last minute preparations and keeping his camera pointing towards her.

Without saying anything to the newbie, Eleniel ignored him and continued walking towards the kitchen. On her way she bumped with Ewan who was almost running away with clear embarrassment. Knowing his personality, Eleniel was not particularly surprised to see him in such state.

"I'm sorry-..." he immediately said while looking at the floor and rubbing his head where he had bumped into Elleh's shoulder. "-I... I didn't see you there." said the young man timidly slowly turning his gaze up. Immediately upon staring at Eleniel he took a few steps back, to say he was afraid of the fire drake would have been an understatement. Ever since the first season the young human had always been intimidated by the ill tempered dragon and for a good reason.

"Watch where your going." Said Eleniel in annoyance. Ewan immediately gave a respectful nod, and not giving it a second thought the young man immediately rushed out of the scene and, without further delay, she finally reached the kitchen. Going directly into the cabinets she immediately spotted what she needed to soothe herself before the cameras were all up on her face. She could not hide her smile after finding some Da Hong Pao tea, back home it was a delicacy to which she had no access to. For obvious reasons, being a tea enthusiast she did not take long to brew herself a cup.

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Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Fen Zhang Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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Jericho found himself staring at the several cameramen for quite a few minutes. It was almost as if he were trying to decide how he was really going to cope with being filmed like this. He couldn’t dwell much longer on the thought, knowing he’d find some clever way to stress himself out.

Rolling his shoulders back, Eleniel caught his eye. She barely looked at Jericho, but it was enough to draw him towards her. What else was there to do around here? It was better than being locked up with Spazzy, that was for sure. The Basilisk tailed silently and unhurriedly behind her, but only after she had fully left his field of vision. When he had caught up, she had already begun brewing herself some of tea. Eleniel was taller in person, but examining her fully, Jericho could now see she was wearing heels. He pulled up a stool, and lazily leaned against the counter. Perhaps this was the best place for his first scene, or rather their first scene.

”Are you going to make me a cup?” Jericho asked, letting his gaze trail down her full height in a faintly provocative way.

Eleniel was still drinking from her warm cup when she spotted Jericho coming closer. She simply starred at the newbie as he leaned casually on the counter. Refusing to acknowledge him she continued to drink her tea, until he began speaking. As soon as she saw Jericho's gaze on her as she did similarly before, she rose an eyebrow and gave him a sharp look not being particularly fond of being checked out. Shortly after, Eleniel heard footsteps approaching behind, it wasn't until she spotted one of the female newbies that Eleniel let out another sigh. She listened as Fen spoke with a smile but responded with a simple short and straight to the point response towards both newbies who clearly mistook her by someone willing to play along.

"If you're trying to make a new friend, you are clearly looking for the wrong monster." She said nonchalantly before she threatened both with her fire drake eyes, her eyes turned green with an iris the color of blood similar to a burning fire. Eleniel wasn't there to make any friends or allies this time around, hell she didn't even know why she was there in the first place. She slowly poured herself more tea before she turned her gaze back at both newbies hoping they'd take a hint.

”Who said I wanted to be friends?” Jericho eyed her further. Almost testing the waters, curious as to see how far he could go and what Miss Eleniel would do next. Not soon after the Basilisk had spoken, another young lady had come around to join them. Jericho, placed where he was, probably wasn’t seen immediately, and that explained why this girl had only greeted Elleh, but Jericho still took on his faux offense.

“What so I don’t exist anymore?” Cocking his head, he looked over at Fen with a wrinkled nose. He crossed his legs and propped his head up with an arm, looking over the Hsien with what could have be disinterest. All of his looks fell to be ambiguous, but it really depended on how you viewed him.

Eleniel made a disapproving sound as Jericho responded to her obvious rejection. All she wanted was to enjoy her cup of hot tea, quietly and calmly before the cameras started rolling but all that had clearly gone out the window. "Good-..." she said shortly and straight to the point before she took another sip and starred at the remaining dark liquid on her cup, "-that ought to save you some disappointment later on." She paused for a few seconds before she starred at the Hsien who stood not too far away. "The same goes to you." Eleniel said not beating herself around the bushes and with a sharp tongue.

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Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Fen Zhang Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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"If you're trying to make a new friend, you are clearly looking for the wrong monster."

Tilting her head at the Eleniel's remark Fen wondered whether she should stop trying so hard in order to make friends, after all not everyone will want to be one but perhaps it was her determined nature that felt somewhat challenged by the comment.

"Well I'm not really looking for a monster per se..." she trailed off, shrugging slightly. It was clear that she herself didn't really know what to say in such a situation. Before she could speak again, another voice spoke causing Fen to be fairly surprised.

“What so I don’t exist anymore?”

Fen turned to see another individual and mentally slapped herself for being so ignorant. This time he was also a newbie much like herself but oddly she didn't find the thought as comforting as she assumed it would. She felt slightly out of place and yet the fact that her stomach was rumbling quietly to remind her of her hunger didn't help the situation either.

"Pardon my mistake but I didn't see you there." By the looks of it he didn't exactly seem concerned with her except it was hard to tell what he may have been thinking about as by simply looking at Jericho's face, he really didn't disclose any feelings.

Nodding ever so slightly at Eleniel's final words, Fen pointed out the tea that she was drinking without much of a thought. The lack of a filter in her mind made her thoughts into speech regardless of how rude it may sound. "Da Hong Pao, her rich Chinese accent was clear, "it's quite a famous tea back in China as well as prestigious so you'd probably offend some natives by drinking that." After a few seconds only then she realised how impolite the statement however the Hsien merely smiled whilst noticing that the show had probably commenced with the camera's rolling.

Even though she knew Eleniel was a Fire-drake because it was stated during the first season, the fact that she was unaware of what Jericho was made her bubble with curiosity because obviously you can't just tell what species of monster an individual is by looking at their face or even their personality. Yes perhaps seeing them in action would help but currently that would be asking for just a bit too much really.

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Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Fen Zhang Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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Eleniel remained still, without doing as much as glancing either one of the newbies. Even when the seemingly friendly newcomer responded to her thread, Eleniel kept her uninterested demeanor and still leaned against the counter with her cup on her right hand. She paid no mind to the words that were shared between Fen and Jericho, almost feeling motivated to leave the scene just so she could be alone. It wasn't until the daring newbie addressed her again recognizing her tea that her interest was somewhat ignited. That was until she explained that drinking such a tea was mostly considered offensive on her hometown. Elleh cannot help but to allow a smile curve up her lip, knowing the cameras had just begun rolling and recording their ever move.

"Is that so?" Eleniel scoffs before she takes another sip whilst showing a crooked smile.

Fen blinked as she watched Eleniel carefully, her behaviour it was hardly surprising after all Fen had observed her quite closely while watching the previous season, quite interested in her character as well has large personality. In some cases Fen actually found Eleniel one of her favourites but in her current situation it seemed as if friendship was in this case was out of the question.

She nodded her head at Eleniel's respond, "It's true but to be honest I find it quite nice that you like the tea...the elders hate everything and anyone that are outside our community so it's not a big thing," she quickly looked over at Jericho before returning her gaze back at Eleniel.

The Hsien girl was quite naive, hardly picking up on challenges or mean comments though that was probably more to do with the fact that she kept with looking at the good in people. After all as the situation worsened back home a lot of her own people turn quite ugly in character causing Fen's loyal nature to come through even stronger.

Jericho leaned over further than before as the girls conversed, as if he was in a boring class working on a boring sheet covering a boring topic... He watched the two ladies for several moments in utter silence. With the roll of his eyes, his stare shifted towards other views. He examined the grand kitchen, marble counter tops and finely finished cabinets, and pair of lovely ladies to match. It reminded him much of the loft back in England, except this was much larger and surely excluding at least one women. If only Jericho could successfully cook up anything more than burned toast.

With the flutter of his lashes, it was only a matter of time before the Basilisk met eyes with the Fire-Drake once more. He drug his thumb down his bottom lip idly, as if scheming up a plan of some unknown kind and of some unknown origin, or maybe it was totally obvious what he was thinking. He gave her another frustratingly drawn out wink, marveling as to if he could manipulate her into leaving or doing something - anything exciting. Jericho then glance back and gave Fen a sweet smile as if falsely intrigued by what she had to say.

Eleniel was not surprised at Fen’s explanation of the elders beliefs, she imagined the Fire Drakes were not the only ones who were against change and disliked outsiders, at the same time they also believed that segregation was their best option. The truth was Eleniel was one of the few Urulóki who wanted segregation to cease to exist, yet her motives had but one purpose. All she wanted was to reach out for others of her kin seeing as they were close to becoming extinct.

The older monster nodded without showing any emotion, not that she was trying to sympathize with the newbie but more like letting her know she understood her words. Eleniel gazed at Fen for a couple of seconds before she turned her eyes back onto Jericho who had his eyes set right back on her. Shortly after, Jericho had the audacity to send Eleniel another wink her way. Elleh placed her cup on top of the counter before she gave him another death stare. If bad looks could kill, the young monster would have surely dropped cold on the floor.. Finally she snapped and quickly moved closer towards the obnoxious Basilisk. She leaned closer, keeping a few inches away from his ear before she whispered something that would surely go unnoticed by the cameras. ”Fuck off, asshole. Take a hint.” She said taking a pause before she took a step back and moved back to lean against the counter once more to take one last sip. As soon as the last drop of the luxurious tea fell on her lips she stormed outside of the kitchen. Before she took the one last step from the kitchen she turned back to warn the Basilisk once more. "Don't follow me." She threatened him hoping this time he'd listen to her words for his own sake. After all, she knew herself well enough to figure out he would not go unharmed for long.

Jericho paid no mind to Eleniel's anger, in fact his smile grew wider when she approached him this close. There was a certain fun that came with screwing with Elleh. She wasn't like other girls whom he could get as little as a blush out of, he could get Ms. Dragon-Lady riled up pretty easily. Jericho snickered quietly, watching the Urulóki storm away. "Seeya la'er sweetheart," he mumbled, his thought process already beginning to switch to some other subject.

He turned back to face Fen, sighing loudly, certainly a lot less bored than before. "I think she's lovely," he stated theatrically but equally as kind. The transition was prompt, the Basilisk shifting only to sit still for several moments, examining the Chinese girl before flatly saying, "Jericho." The way his accented distorted his name was unique. The "i" was particularly highlight, and Jericho couldn't help but find it fun to say. Yes, his voice might have lead one to believe he had little interest, but his expression plainly suggested she should go on about herself.

As Fen watched the two monsters in front of her, she realised that perhaps their personalities clashed and therefore caused annoyance especially to Eleniel. Though she didn't hear what Eleniel had said to Jericho, she simply assumed that it wasn't anything pleasant and let her eyes wander around the kitchen as she felt like she was intruding on a private conversation.

Before she knew it, Eleniel had walked out of the kitchen leaving her behind with Jericho. Although she felt herself becoming disappointed she kept her poker face. It was true to say that Fen didn't even get to know anything about Eleniel nor her species except the Hsien did discover something. If she were to learn anything, she'll most definitely have to become more closer to Eleniel which in itself would be a hard task.
As she looked back at Jericho Fen wondered whether he truly wanted to be here, however the look on his face never changed so it was hard to tell what he may be thinking about. "Well she has great taste in tea..."she answered, nodding ever so slightly as an acknowledgement.

Fen leaned against the creamy white wall since she had just come to the realization that she had been standing the whole time. "Fen, nice to meet you..."she trailed off smiling slightly. I wonder if it would be rude to ask him what species he is she thought but instead she went added "If you were wondering I'm a Hsien though you're pretty hard to read so I could be completely wrong."

Jericho grinned a toothy grin at the young - looking - girl. "I'm not declinin' the information."

Fen was a pretty girl, around average height, he thought. There was something very oddly endearing about her. Her accent was rather pleasing to hear, but he wouldn't go out of his way to give the compliment. Folding his hands in his lap, a smirk overtook Jericho's expression. "Fen's a lovely name." He continued to play. "Where ya from?" The Basilisk did consider getting up to make himself some tea, it had been a while since he'd actually had some, but he decided against it. He couldn't deny his curiosity, and doing something as simple as moving might distract him. It seemed like all the newbies were eager to meet their fellow monsters, so he'd fit in as many as he could now, while he still had his chance.

It caught Fen by surprised when Jericho grinned at her as it was probably the first time he had shown any sort of reaction. She had come to the kitchen with the task of finding something to eat but it seemed like her hunger had vanished though secretly she wondered what they may have for dinner and if they would all eat together like she was used to doing in.

The compliment was yet again out of the blue and she found him quite unpredictable which only increased her interest. "Thank you," she finally responded yet she realized that he didn't say what he was. Fen considered his name for a moment, as a child she was always interested in name meanings and would read countless amount of books to find out. "The name Jericho has meanings attached to the moon or a fragrance even in Arabic" she mumbled to herself, both their names meant fragrance which shocked her.

Fen became conscious of the fact that she was thinking too much and subconsciously pinched her left arm. "I'm from China and you're from...England?" She guessed by his accent hoping she wasn't wrong.

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Character Portrait: Aiden Young Character Portrait: Fen Zhang Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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There is nothing quite as invigorating, at least in Aiden Young's mind, as knowing that the first shot the world will see of him is a glorious shot of his bare chest. Provided they don't edit it out. The cameras start to roll as Aiden makes his way inside, his bare chest readily displayed for any searching camera. His very recent 'fun' with Ewan has further buoyed his spirits and given his step that extra little 'pizzazz'. He smiles and grins to no one in particular as he struts through the lounge. This is the world he was born to conquer, with camera's locked on him he thrives in the spotlight.

Long legs carry him quickly up the stairs, however he slows as he reaches the landing, spying the camera at the end which is tracking his every movement. 'Don't make eye contact... pretend like the cameras are invisible...' Aiden knows the rules as well as anybody, but when has he ever followed the rules just because he was told to? As he approaches the camera Aiden throws his damp shirt on the ground. A wide grin takes root on his face and the man behind the camera is becoming visibly nervous as the young griffin approaches.

Stopping where the shot will be able to capture most of him Aiden stares straight into the camera lens.
"Good morning, good evening, and good night. A very hearty welcome to all my beautiful fans watching around the globe." He winks into the lens, ignoring the camera man's urgent miming actions to stop, "Thank you for tuning into the second season of Return to Reality, or, as I like to call it The Aiden Young Show. We have some wonderful surprises in store for you this season and I look forward to experiencing it all with you." Aiden likes his lips, a cheeky smile full of naughty promises playing across his face.

By this stage the camera man is having a frantic, whispered chat to one of the bigwigs and Aiden knows his one-on-one screen time with the audience will soon come to an end. So he decides to pull out the crowd pleaser. Hands on his waist, feet spaced slightly apart and his hips pushed forward towards the camera slightly, Aiden nods 'downstairs'. "In case you're wondering boys and girls, it's as big as it looks..."
His words are cut off by the camera man who has finally turned his device off. The crew member is obviously flustered, apparently he had not been prepared for the full Aiden effect. Aiden pats the man on the shoulder,
"Don't worry Carl, we can finish what we started tomorrow." With those last 'comforting' words Aiden turns into his room, leaving 'Carl' partially stunned behind him.

As soon as Aiden enters his room he sees that Eleniel has already laid claim to the furthest bed. The thought crosses his mind to move her things, but eventually what little commonsense he possesses talks him out of it. Instead he plonks himself on the unclaimed bed, crossing his legs at the ankles and cushioning his head against the headboard with his arms. The room isn't too shabby at all, not that Aiden expected any worse from the show's owners. Of course, the only thing the room is lacking in is entertainment. With Eleniel absent and no cameraman to terrorize - Aiden suspects the one on the landing would have followed him into the room - the room is unsurprisingly full.

With a sigh Aiden pushes himself off the bed, rolling onto and landing on the floor with cat-like grace. One of the many perks of being a griffin, he has balance to rival the top gymnast. Springing to his feet the young man quickly riffles through his small bag, finds an acceptable top and pulls it on. As much as he'd like to walk around topless all day, he also likes the warmth an extra layer provides. Back out of his room, past the camera minus Carl, down the stairs, through a series of rooms and into the kitchen.

Two people sit at the kitchen bench, Jericho and one of the other newbies. Aiden pays no mind to either monster, his mind is now on more important things: Food and alcohol. He opens the first pantry, eyes quickly scanning for anything that looks appetizing. Alas, this one seems overwhelmed with baking essentials. Aiden closes the pantry door with a loud thud before moving onto the second, which fares no better. Finally, after riffling through several more cupboards, a bag of chocolate chips is hanging between his teeth and a second bag of snacks is in one hand. With his free hand he proceeds to open to fridge door, gazing in for any signs of anything vaguely alcoholic.

"Bloody hell, who do I have to blow to get a drink around here?" He exclaims seeing naught that catches is attention, although the sentence is slightly mumbled by the bag between his teeth. Finally, he grabs a soda can with his free had before closing the fridge door and turning to stare at the other cast members. "Jer, other person." He nods to each as he greets them before, without another word, leaving.

The griffin navigates his way through the house to the room with the largest TV screen and best couches. Slumping into the couch Aiden let's his food fall beside him on the seat and places his soda within arm's reach. The remote too is not far and he flicks on the massive television, surfing through the channels until he's found something mindless to watch. However, it appears the show he has just tuned into is ending - the credits roll within a minute of him sitting down. Yet, the next television show to come on suits Aiden just fine, it's the first season of Return to Reality and as everyone knows, Aiden is always happy to see himself in action. So the griffin settles into the couch, prepared to spend the next hour of the episode congratulating himself for an excellent first season.

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Character Portrait: Aiden Young Character Portrait: Fen Zhang Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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|{In collaboration with the amazing Castiel Told Me To}|

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Jericho, invisibly delighted to surprise the lady, continued to sit patiently, allowing himself the time to observe her further. It was rather amazing how long Fen had stuck around. He had at least expected her to make some sort of gesture that could have meant she wanted to take off, yet he didn't catch any. A breeze flew past as several rushing camera men made their way by to catch what may have been happening. Ultimately paying no mind, the Basilisk had overheard her murmurs, his smile gradually fading. Letting it pass without any additional mention, the girl seemed to snap out of her trance.

"I'm from China and you're from...England?"

The thought to say he was from South Africa had definitely crossed Jericho's mind, it would have been a simple tease, but it was still too much effort for someone like him. "Yep." The English boy nodded only slightly, but sooner than later came a tall, curly haired Gryffin. Who, at first, had not acknowledged Jericho nor Fen, only to make an inappropriate remark, and then rummage around for what looked like snacks and alcohol. Jericho himself had barely kept track of Aiden, picking at his fingers as if was none of the Gryffin's business what he was talking about with his new friend. It was only when Aiden had finally addressed the two, that the Basilisk had lifted his head to preform a pleased, self-satisfied simper.

Fen nodded, glad that she got his origin right because let's face it she found it somewhat annoying when people thought Japanese, Chinese and Koreans looked the same. Just when she was about to open her mouth to say something, a fellow monster walked into the kitchen. Wondering whether to say anything to him she ended up remaining quiet. It was only when Aiden acknowledged them that she quickly gave her name as the idea of being called 'other person' didn't seem too charming. Fen watched as he finally left the kitchen, her focus returning back to Jericho.

"So, what made you want to come onto the show?" She questioned, small talk was really not her forte. However now that a few cameramen were around them she speculated whether anyone would feel comfortable with a camera in front of their face but then again everyone around the world were probably just curious, just like she was while watching season 1.

Giving a theatrically exasperated sigh, he let his head fall back on his shoulders. It seemed like June was popping into his life far too often, and he was sick of thinking about her. "My sister," he finally replied. Jericho hadn't wanted to remain on topic, but given his ironic humor, he couldn't help but make one last comment. "Though, it's very likely the only reason I got the part was because none of the other bottom feeders in our territory wanted anything to do with it." One of things that likely gave away Jericho's species - well, one thing that was really just noticeably creepy - was his ability to go without blinking for long periods of time. As far as he was concerned, this was normal. Blinking too quickly or as frequently as human might gives, off the vibe of inferiority where the water creatures rein, so even in the eyes of other species, the habit continued on.

It was sheerly out of politeness that Jericho favored to return the question with his subtle charm, snaking his hand into a front pocket, while staring emotionlessly at Fen. "I'm a Basilisk," he finally stated, rather unnervingly off-topic considering the current subject. Jericho could have smelled her curiousity from miles away, but really who wouldn't have been on a show like this.

Fen laughed quietly at Jericho's dramatic answer while she pulled her hair to one side. It seemed like family was also an issue to him though obviously the topic wasn't to remain longer. She raised an eyebrow almost questioning his statement towards his own species. Finally he had given away his identity, a Basilisk. She had read about his species though of course with only a small amount of books that was available to her.

"So, if I challenged you to a staring contest I'd most likely lose right?" She grinned cheekily.

Jericho smiled in return. "I wouldn't be one to know the strengths of a Hsien, but if you'd like to give it a shot, be my guest," he joked. The Basilisk got to his feet, stretching his arms out and yawning. There was a brief pause, as he got a bit closer, but really only to lean against the kitchen island. "What's the weather like in China?" Jericho finally asked, keeping his c. "Generally, what's it like in China?"

Fen shrugged casually, her grin widening in response to his statement. "I'm sure I could cheat my way into winning but then again so could you." After all she also didn't know that much about the Basilisks.

The topic of China made her briefly think about home and her close minded father, she even considered whether anyone back home would actually be watching the show, though it was highly doubtful. "China's weather is something of a bother, it's usually too hot or humid and hardly ever cold and chilly because the winters are so short...we have these 3 cities nicknamed 'the three furnaces' which I tend to stay away from."Even though she should be used to the extreme warmth, Fen always like to go away to the mountains where at least the cold was somewhat apparent.

"China likes isolation, I mean I hardly know people who would want to go out of China if they had the chance so let's just say that I probably might not be welcomed back home." While she laughed because Fen disliked being so serious, the matter was probably true because even the elders had told her leaving would be like a sign of betrayal.
"And what about England? From what I've watched it seems to raining all the time, no?"

Rolling his eyes, Jericho nodded lazily. "Almost ten months out of the year," he replied. "Hardly any summer, and what is summer feels too hot because of what we're used to. Snow's rare too." Jericho liked the idea of some place warm -- warm for at least a full season. "China doesn't sound too bad." There was a part of him that almost didn't want to go back to England.

"Sounds great though, I'd love to get away from all the dreadful heat!"Her eyes gazed upon the cameramen for only a few seconds out of mere curiosity. Most people who'd watch the show would be watching for the fights or dramatic moments, not the basic interactions or getting to know stages.

"If we could swap then I'm sure you'd find living in China a pain, all the customs and traditions not to mention we are all very formal people!"

"Sounds like a plan," Jericho met her gaze, a faint half smile lingering along his lips. He marveled the idea of living someplace dry, even if it might as well been only a pipe dream. It seemed like this was his best chance to go unpack, he'd already met four people and that seemed like enough to start off the show -- in his head anyway.

Jericho shifted, and his smile grew to a warm, artificial grin. "I think that's my queue." The Basilisk said, referring to pretty much nothing at this point, other than the silence and absence of footsteps that leaked into the large kitchen. "It was a true pleasure to meet you, Miss Fen." Standing straight, Jericho easily rounded the island to place himself like a chess piece in front of the Hsien. The thought of kissing her hand had clearly crossed his mind, the phone calls of fury from his sister when something like that shows up on her television. His grin was fueled further by the idea, but instead, he offered a handshake with that clever look of deception plastered across his pale face.

Fen smiled warmly, quite surprised by the Basilisk and how well the conversation had gone. "And you too Mr. Jericho." She spoke playfully. It was obvious by her relaxed posture and cheerful manner that she was now used to him and therefore was more inclined to be feel comfortable. The Hsien accepted the handshake, "Correct me if I'm wrong but this is a sign of a peaceful future in this show regarding us," Fen added as a side note.

"That's one word for you."

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Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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Well she was just a peach, wasn't she, Jericho thought absentmindedly, wandering away from the kitchen at a slow saunter. The Basilisk thought sweetly of Fen, but he saw no intention, even out of the goodness in his heart to explore their friendship any further. This house was surely a labyrinth, not as open-concept as it might have lead one to believe. Jericho found himself in the entrance hall for another time, glancing up at the stairs and not finding it in himself to go up them. The library was another option, but that only reminded him of the book that sat waiting for him upstairs. This only left the living room which he'd seen earlier. Awesome, he could sit around contently doing nothing. Maybe the cameras would leave him alone.

Oh. Turning into the livingroom, Jericho couldn't help but hesitate at the sight of Dracen. Recovering his composure, he continued his path to throw himself down on the couch opposite of the Wyvern. A blank expression plainly smeared across his face, though just the faintest smirk turned up at the corner of his lip.

"Ay-up, Draco," Jericho folded his hands neatly in his lap, he seemed to have tracked a few cameramen in with him.

After seperating himself from the emissary, Dracen took a seat in the living room without preamble. Thinking of home brought thoughts of his father and with them came concern. Had he made it to work on time? Was he keeping to his low cholesterol diet the doctors had him on? Before he could convince himself otherwise, he brought his phone out and his thumbs went flying across the screen. It'd taken a while to get his old man accustomed to the art of text but it was well worth it. Having a conversation over the phone left little to no privacy with all of these cameras around. After receiving a reply, he's no longer alone in the living room. In fact, he's accompanied by no other than his roommate—the same roommate that told him to 'fuck off' less than an hour ago. Needless to say this new friendliness ignited his curiosity, coaxing a cocked brow from the wyvern. "Hello Jericho." he greets, a slow smile growing on his face. "Make any new friends?"

"Friends? Dunno about friends but I've sure as hell met a few people." Jericho paused. "Well, there's Curly Hair, or Miss Dragon Lady over there." The Basilisk's stare fell to the cell sitting in the hands of the Wyvern. It reminded him of his own fear to check his phone, knowing June would have probably left him about a million texts -- the main reason why he'd turned his ringer off. Jericho leaned forward to prop his elbows up on his knees. "Let's not forget that Asian girl, Fen." He added, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. He was rather surprised think about just how many people he'd met what seemed like such a little amount of time.

"I should ask you the same thing."

"Just one," he replies casually, pocketing his phone so not to be rude. "My first attempt didn't go so well if you recall."

Jericho snickered. "Is the one friend me, or some other bloke?" He slid a hand up to rub the back of his neck, promptly squinting at Dracen and pointing a lazy, accusatory finger. "Should I be jealous?"

It felt like Dracen should have made his way across the board of monster faster the Jericho had, he seemed like the type to be far more eager to put together his ensemble of friends than Jericho himself.

Dracen huffs a laugh, both brows cocked in amusement as he's questioned, "Be whatever you want, man." he says, both hands raised in faux retreat before he lets them fall to his lap. "But no, that friend isn't you. Sorry. Where I come from fuck off isn't exactly a term of endearment."

All of any amusement that might have been in Jericho's voice disappeared. "That's right." The Basilisk leaned back again, examining the Wyvern as he had done earlier. Crossing his arms, he let the silence trail on for several moments more, for a moment he even considered taking a glance his own phone,.

"But I'm willing to put that behind us, unless of course you're willing to fight me for viewer entertainment." Jericho couldn't help but smile thinly. "I think it'd be pretty badass to watch a softie-dragon and a big-ass snake go off on each other."

"Yeah well, if it's all the same to you I'd rather just let by gones be by gones." Dracen replies, his smile just as wirey. I mean, really, what is with this guy? he thinks, but he shakes his head, having to remind himself that it doesn't do well to cling to bitter thoughts. "I'm a lover not a fighter." He punctuates the statement with a wink before crossing his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. "Don't get me wrong, though-...that kind of fight would be pretty badass. You'll just have better luck with the Fire-Drake."

"I'm sure you are," Jericho replies, bypassing the comment on the ideal fight. "Wish I could say the same." The Basilisk gives a devious grin. "Though I will keep Ellie in mind for that fight." He was already riling the Fire-Drake up so he figured it wouldn't take long until something like that did happen, though he wasn't sure if it was the best thing for his personal well being. Ellie was already mean without even trying.

"Now, do tell me about your precious America." Jericho changed the subject abruptly. "I've heard all there is to hear, haven't been."

Dracen opens his mouth to speak, to tell his reptilian roommate that he'd be there to heal him despite their own rocky past, but his response is thwarted when Jericho changes the subject. In retrospect, it's probably for the best, lest the Basilisk get the wrong idea. Once he's asked about the States, he cannot help the smirk that crosses his features. Small talk is a skill he's learned to grasp after so many interviews and auditions. What he isn't used to is partaking in it with someone who clearly can't stand him. "Honestly it's not what it's all cracked up to be. I'm sure it's just like any other country out there." the wyvern shrugs, "But then again, what do I know? I've never been outside the country myself. What's Britain like?"

Jericho sighed, sinking further into the couch, or rather pushing himself further into the couch to emphasize his theatrics. "Cold, wet..." What else? "Segregated... Let's just say it's hard to get a date with a lake monster." Jericho chuckled again. What he said was true, he'd probably tried once or twice to no avail, something about family honor or whatever. "What more is there to say." Jericho eyed Dracen, looking for any further reaction, since the room still felt pretty tense even amongst the light small talk.

"Not much else, I guess." Dracen replies, his tone conversational as he eases himself into it. He's not one to hold grudges, never one to dwell on first impressions. Pushing all animosity to the side, the wyvern allows a small charming smile to grace his features before saying, "Depending on where you go in America, that sounds just like the states as far as the weather goes. We're segregated too, just like other providences. I live on the beach though so the only dreary weather I see is when a hurricane comes."

"I'd enjoy living some place dry," Jericho adds. It felt like he was just having this conversation only minutes before, and he did, with Fen. But nonetheless, he liked talking about casual things, about climate and boring topics. It made him feel like a grow up for a split second. The Basilisk felt pretty screwed, turning fifty-one fairly soon and still acting like he did thirty years ago.

"I guess I'll consider going to America. I'm not dying any time soon, so let's do it." Jericho wasn't sure if he was officially suggesting he go to America with Dracen, or on his own, but either way he felt like making goals like these are healthy, or might at least please his sister or - Fuck, don't think about her.

"If you're up for some fun in the sun you could stay with me when you visit," the wyvern offers, "Not that you'd want to-...but it's a lot cheaper than staying in a hotel. Besides, I know all the best tourist attractions."

Jericho raised an eyebrow. "As long as you're offering." He sat up fully.

"Absolutely," Dracen grins, "I mean, we're already roommates right? So who knows-..."

Continuing to lounge, Jericho tried to imagine himself in America on one of those picturesque beaches from watermarked Shutterstock photos advertising resorts and things. The brunette sighed a melodramatic sigh. "There might be a flaw to that plan actually, 'might have to postpone," He bemoaned. "You see I'm not one for wearing shorts and that may pose an issue." The snake's lips curled into another smile, still amusing himself with pretty visions of beaches. Even now he wore black Levi's, visualizing himself in shorts was rather unattractive to think about with morality like his.

Dracen laughs, warmly and without judgement. "Don't worry, dude, shorts aren't a requirement. Trust me, no one wants to see my skinny, chicken legs out on display." Once he gets to talking, it's easy. It's one of the few things that come natural to him. What makes it even easier is that Jericho was actually enjoying his company. Either that or he was putting on a pretty decent act.

Eventually it wasn’t hard to relax, but Jericho wasn’t having trouble with that in the first place. ”Alright then, I guess it’s a deal.” Jericho chuckled. ”And I’ll be holding it to you.

With a thumbs up, Dracen scrunches up his nose with a smile and says, "You got it dude."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eleniel Youngblood Character Portrait: Dracen Mallory Character Portrait: Isis Anya Neferet Character Portrait: Aiden Young Character Portrait: Elizabeth Florence Brown Character Portrait: Spike Days Character Portrait: Fen Zhang Character Portrait: HyunSoo Park Character Portrait: Roisin Callan Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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ONE WEEK LATER
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The Isles of Sicily; one of the few territories in Ellium that isn't plagued by oppressive segregation. Populated by non-magic humans, it is a nesting ground for equality, adorned with beautiful beaches, rolling hillsides, and floral plains. Consortio Manor lays nestled on a mountainside, overlooking a beach that has been closed off for the use of the cast members. After a week of filming, Claude decides that you and your fellow cast mates deserve a bit of a break while they edit the first episode. Turns out this "breaks" doesn't translate the same to you as it does him. Instead of being free from the cameras in their entirety, Claude limits the amount of cameramen to two instead of the ten they have readily available. Gathering your bathing clothes, you and your cast mates set out to the beach for a day in the sun.

Crashing against the shore, small waves wash the night's debris onto the land. Untouched golden sand covers the floor as far as your eyes can see. Soothing, a gentle sea breeze rustles through your hair. Abandoned, nothing there apart from a few sea gulls pecking at the rubbish left by yesterday's visitors. The blazing sun beats down on the smooth, weathered rocks of the cliff side. The crisp seaweed pushed onto the rocks by the waves, lay baking at the sea's edge, occasionally moving with the tide. The clear blue sea's waves rattle the tiny pebbles embedded in the golden sand. The foam from the waves cover a small child's forgotten sandcastle, bringing it down with a dull crash. Closing off the edge of the beach is a cave, the entrance hidden from view, punctuating the extensive length of the shore side. Islanders mingle and gather far off in the distance, their presence inaudible even to the the creatures they're so far off.

Here marks the next week of filming Return to Reality. What impression will you make?

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Character Portrait: Jericho V. Remington
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Jericho had taken to sitting in the tide. Never had he felt water this warm, and frankly, he enjoyed it. The basilisk laid alone, stretched out across the line where the water met the sparkling sand, arms folded neatly behind his head, and a pair of sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He was voguing off all sorts of tattoos he hadn’t let the cameras see before. The waves were quiet and inviting, and he'd definitely thought about allowing the snake beneath his skin to go free, but it felt too soon for his precious audience. Seemed like it would be a terrible waste to just lie there all strung out from the warmth, scaly from head to tail, but with no drama to match. Looked like many of the other cast members had agreed to that, as much as they might have wanted to. Save it for later.

London was never like this. During the hottest day in summer, the lakes didn't come close to what this felt like. Jericho had made himself quite the nest, burying his back deep into the warm sand. He had caked himself in sunscreen earlier, certainly not keen on getting any tan lines around his swim trunks, not to mention he burned so easily with that stone pale skin of his. Jericho had even teased a one of the two cameramen into rubbing down his back with sunscreen. The poor man didn't seem to want to film him much after that, and wasn't that just a win for everyone.

Jericho listened to the dull hum of his cast-mates chatting and hanging about. Fortunately, he had only felt the lens of the camera on him a few times, and he was able to relax. It had dawned on him that he had made it a week, and he smiled to himself or a moment. A triumphant feeling washed over him along with a blanket of water. This meant that, not only had he survived this show for a whole week, but he hadn't had a bloody nose in the same amount of time, and really, that was an achievement in itself. Even so, he still kept that purple kerchief around his wrist. It didn't matter if it became wet, if worse came to worst he would still need it.

Jericho began focusing on his breathing, feeling his chest rise and fall, reviewing previous events. He felt bitter. The more Jericho wrapped his head around it, the show in general, the more anxious he grew, and let's not forget the more likely it was for his face to blow a fuse. Relax. The sun still pounded down on the gorgeous beach with a power that was far above him. It felt so nice, all the boy could do was pray it wouldn't fry him whole.

Beside Jericho sat his black and crumpled tank, his now presently ringing iPhone atop it. He struggled to silence it, craning his head around to pick it up. Once again, he could feel the cold stare of that camera on him. Likely trying to get a look at the caller ID past the glare of the sun. It couldn’t have been anyone that important. The basilisk comforted himself with the thought that there was absolutely no way they could have seen it, but cameras were easily next to magical these days.

Jericho wouldn't dare underestimate his karma.

Dropping the beaten and scratched cell carelessly beside him, he reviewed all the things he’d done the last few days. All the snarky quips and comments he had said, and all of the people he’d met. Jericho hadn’t come into contact with many others past his first day. Dracen particularly crossing his mind. Things seemed to have leveled out between them, though it was pretty obvious that both were still weary of the each other. Rooming wasn’t terrible, though. Dracen was an extremely heavy sleeper, which helped since Jericho got out of bed every two hours after midnight. And as time went on things grew easier, as well as far more casual.

Among his memories of the past week, nothing necessarily stood out to him. Hardly any of his new friends struck him as indescribably odd, no one really tore his attention, but at least everyone was fairly unique.

To avoid inevitably falling asleep, basilisk eventually sat up, glancing around at the dip he’d made in the sand. The snake had caught a look at several other of the cast members, sitting or standing, in the water or not, they were just everywhere. Then there was him, on a beach in the thick of the summer with nothing more exciting to do but lay here. Well, Jericho was reminded of why he was sitting alone.