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Elsie Mayfaire Reid

"Memories of silence are far more favorable than memories of nothing at all."

0 · 140 views · located in San Francisco

a character in “We Are Refuge”, as played by Nephthys

Description

Elsie Mayfaire Reid


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“Memory is deceptive because it is coloured by today’s events.”
—Albert Einstein






Role: The Memento.

Gender: Female.

Age: Twelve.

Physical Description: Elsie Mayfaire Reid is an uncanny little girl, with large hazel eyes that catch the gaze and a face too symmetrical to be real. Small for her age, at just over four and a half feet and eighty-five pounds, she often seems younger than she is on first glance. In her eyes, however, captivating as they are, is something cold, calculating, and eerie. Few ever hold her stare for long, and those who do let their gaze flicker away with some new thoughts about the girl burrowing themselves into the backs of their minds. Elsie is an odd one.

At the age when many girls look more womanly than their parents would hope, Elsie retains her childlike appearance, with a round face, oddly large eyes set with dark brown irises, and a good amount of baby fat left on her bones. She’s a strong, healthy girl with a flush to her cheeks and enough life for a person and a half in her bones. She hasn’t hit her growth spurt yet— a fact her father’s somewhat relieved to know— but she does stand like a grown woman of her own, something that can seem a bit off-putting to those who’ve never met her.

Elsie is dressed like a doll. Frilly dresses, long coats, tights, stockings, Mary-Janes— what was once a coddling father has turned Elsie into a classily stylish girl. As she still fits into sizes from most children’s stores, the dresses she wears are high-cut but somewhat short on her legs, giving her yet another straddling of the line between child and adult. Though short, she’s long-limbed, built for propulsion sports like running, which she despises, and swimming, which she excels at. Her hair, dark brown with waves, the occasional curl, and a handful of summer highlights from too much saltwater and sun, is often braided into two plaits or pulled back into twin pigtails. When she’s serious, however, she’s been known to pull it back into just one ponytail, and she’s been taking to the more clean-cut single braid as of late, often throwing in a touch of French style in with braids and chignons alike.

Fashion Taste: Elsie wears mostly upper-class children’s clothing, clad mostly in dresses, tights, and schoolgirl-style shoes. She never goes anywhere without looking presentable. At present, she isn’t much into makeup, but she does own a lip-gloss or two.

Face Claim: Mackenzie Foy.




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Skills:

    [+] Schoolyard’s sweetheart. Elsie’s a cute, pretty little girl, so she finds it easy to charm adults into her palm. She asks for ‘favors’ often, and most of them don’t go unanswered. Over the course of her life, she’s learned the easiest way to get what she wants is to ask for it. It usually works— most people find it easy to trust her. Who would suspect a little girl?

    [+] Eloquence is a girl’s best friend. For her age, Elsie is an impressive writer and a skilled essayist. She has a way with words. While this often plays into her charm, it’s a skill worth noting on its own for the fact that she keeps extremely detailed journals with her at all times. Elsie writes everything she experiences down, and everything she writes is described in lucid detail. It’s unclear as to why she puts so much effort into doing this,

    [+] Memory architect. Elsie is gifted with the ability to construct memories inside the mind of any person she touches. While inserting the memories, she must think them explicitly into the person’s head. If she loses physical, skin-to-skin contact or is distracted, it will be obvious, by, respectively, black splotches or evidence of what she was thinking in the moment inside the subject’s mind. Additionally, she cannot remove memories— only edit over them. Because she is still developing her abilities, many of her edited-in memories will have an odd, dreamlike quality to them, but she is quickly learning to control this aspect of her imagination.

    [+] Secrets envisioned. Elsie’s a talented sketch artist. While she’s still working on proportions, she has a distinct fantastic-realist style that requires no references to create. She can often be found sketching in her free time. She enjoys creating fantastic worlds, which she both writes about and illustrates. Her drawings are incredibly detailed but are often smudged, warped, or dirty— she carries the sketchbook everywhere.
Weaknesses:

    [+] I am but a body. Elsie, as a twelve-year-old girl, can do little to defend herself in a fight. She carries no weapons and couldn’t run or hit for her life. She likes to think she could hold her own in a fight, but she’s never gotten in one before and very badly overestimates her ability to stand off against someone much bigger than herself.

    [+] Memory makes the man. Naïve and overconfident, Elsie is prone to get herself into trouble she can’t get out of. She errs toward the arrogant side and will pretend she’s intimidating to those who scare her despite being four and a half feet tall and dressed in a schoolgirl dress. She knows little about the world, and she seems to like learning things the hard way.

    [+] Words are but a fleeting feeling. Due to a malformation of her vocal chords, Elsie has great trouble speaking and, as such, chooses not to do so. She either communicates with a pen and a small notepad or by touching those she wishes to communicate with and inserting the imagined sound of her voice (her ideal voice, not hear rasping, squeaking actual one) into memory so recent as to still be present in the listener’s head.

    [+] Dreams so real. As a memory architect, Elsie can sometimes overwrite her own memories by accident. It’s never too severe, but it happens often enough for Elsie to have recorded all her most important memories. She keeps them on a flash drive around her neck and reviews them once a month, logging the ones she’s lost and adding any new ones she might want to keep for the future. Most of her early childhood she doesn’t remember anymore. She also tends to forget names. This gets worse on days she uses her abilities more, as it’s more active than usual.
Mannerisms:

    [+] A smile is worth a thousand words. Elsie is an extremely expressive girl. As she dislikes having to go to the trouble of communicating with words, she tends to make faces and gestures to communicate her thoughts. She’s also capable of making small sounds, though her vocal chord malformation warps these and causes them to sound deep and choked.

    [+] Hold me close. Elsie enjoys the company of others and is a very tactile person. She likes to touch people and does so absently, grabbing onto them, hugging them, or simply brushing their skin. She’s never been without human contact for long and will tend to feel lonely when she’s not near or touching someone else. Often, it’s made her into a pest, but she tends to ignore this.

    [+] Look where you’re going. A dedicated artist, Elsie draws while she’s walking. Her father’s glad it’s not a cell phone her eyes are glued to, but she bumps into things and has even managed to get lost while drawing. Even when she isn’t drawing, Elsie has a notoriously bad sense of direction and has managed to get ‘lost’ ten feet away from her father.

    [+] Snickerdoodle honey. Elsie possesses a terrible sense of humor. She laughs at anything she perceives to be a joke— be it insensitive, incomprehensible, or downright stupid. Her actual laughing sounds somewhat like a yowl or a cough, but it’s heard often enough to be recognizable. She always seems to be laughing at something, but she has enough decency not to be laughing at someone.
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Likes:

    [+] Art.
    [+] Bad jokes.
    [+] Moody weather.
    [+] Pretty dresses.
    [+] Trinkets and souvenirs.
    [+] Traveling.
    [+] Beaches and swimming.
    [+] Film noir.
    [+] Fruits.
    [+] Sweets.
Dislikes:

    [+] Rap and hip hop.
    [+] Feeling powerless.
    [+] Loud noises.
    [+] Having her cheeks pinched.
    [+] Cartoonish drawings— or people.
    [+] Bad grammar.
    [+] Being told to ‘speak up’ or being called shy.
    [+] Giving or receiving pity.
    [+] Having to apologize.
    [+] Boys.
Fears:

    [+] The dark.
    [+] Losing her father.
    [+] Getting lost and not being found.
    [+] Forgetting everything she knows.
    [+] Alzheimer’s patients.
    [+] Black cats and ladders.
    [+] Ruining her clothes.
    [+] Getting into something she can’t get out of.
    [+] Pills.
    [+] Others with abilities.



Personality: Make it worth the horizontal rule.

Elsie may be quiet, but she’s anything but shy. In school, she’d be the girl who always had the answer if she ever raised her hand. Always ready to interact and take on the things bigger than her, she’s full of spunk, energy, and smiles. Elsie possesses an intelligence beyond her years, and she’s unafraid to use it— in fact, it seems that she isn’t afraid of anything at all. She’s bold, cunning, and knows what she wants and how to get it. She isn’t shy about it at all.

And yet she doesn’t say a word. Though Elsie’s able to speak, it takes a great deal of effort for her to do so, and she feels self-conscious about what she’s able to produce: a rasping, abnormally deep, hissing sound seems to permeate every sentence she sets free into the world, so she tries her hardest not to speak if she doesn’t have to. She’s not particularly chatty, but her face is always saying something to offset her near-perpetual silence. She doesn’t socialize as much as she would like, being naturally extraverted, but over the years, she’s become used to taking time to herself to sit in a corner and draw. Elsie, in fact, sees nothing odd about it at all. Because she’s always known her own body, she doesn’t think of herself as ‘different’ in the least. The fact that she can’t physically speak like other girls isn’t much of a setback to her, but she is becoming more aware of it as she enters her teenage years.

Elsie is always polite and cordial, if not a bit assuming and arrogant. Elsie knows she’s a bright girl, and she’s used to getting what she wants. She’s not the type to throw a fit when things don’t fall right into her lap; no, in fact, she’s one to keep chasing after it until either it or she dies. Of course, she’d never do so without manners. That’s one of the scariest parts about her. Elsie, as innocent as she is, can take something she shouldn’t away from the ones who need it most with a smile on her face and a self-assured bounce to her gait. In a somewhat eerie way, she doesn’t realize when she’s causing pain to others. She’s been raised well by her father, so she doesn’t usually hurt anyone, but if she does, an apology’s a last thing that’ll be passing her lips.

Elsie has a great amount of self-control and seems to live according to the chirp of her cheap digital watch. Every three hours, she sets aside ten minutes to record the day’s happenings. She eats on a schedule, sleeps on a schedule, and she doesn’t stand for anyone breaking it. She’s quite the obstinate girl, and she can be very controlling, at times. Additionally, she’s neat to the point as to seem obsessive. If there’s one thing Elsie won’t tolerate, it’s disorder. Her father jokes that she acts like a little old lady sometimes, what with her hate for loud music and things not adding up, but he doesn’t understand— her brain can only perform at the high level it does when everything’s in order and when there aren’t any distractions to take it away from the task at hand, as with her own uncanny ability.


History: Mostly childhood and what your character's been up to recently.

Elsie Mayfaire Reid was practically born an orphan. Conceived, carried to term, and then promptly abandoned by a young British mother before her first birthday, she spent the first five years of her life in the dark undercurrent of the government’s excuse for a foster system. Those years, however, she doesn’t much remember. What she marks as the beginning of her life is the day she was adopted. That was a good day. A rainy day. A beautiful day.

Or so her files say. She doesn’t remember any of her early life, but she knows that she was adopted by her father, Alexander Reid, at the age of five. She was named for his mother and raised in an upper-middle-class suburb, attending a private school just outside New York City. Though she was never quite sure where her Daddy got his money, she loved him irregardless, and they grew extremely close. Over time, Elsie forgot the already-blurred days of her early life and came to know Alexander Reid as her one and only father. She didn’t find it strange that he didn’t have a wife, that he never talked about his life, that he didn’t show up for Job Day at school. He was a busy man.

Elsie was left alone a lot at home. But she didn’t mind. That, in fact, was where she developed her passion for art— when she wasn’t with her father, she’d draw him, draw them, draw anything she saw as though she could create the things she didn’t had on the sketchpad in her lap. A well-off girl with all her needs cared for, she told herself she didn’t care, but she really did get lonely. She didn’t have many friends, and the ones she did have lived far away due to her school situation.

When she was ten, they started moving away. A lot. Daddy took her out of school and had her study at home. She jumped ahead a couple of years because she had nothing better to do. They hopped from state to state, then country to country. She never asked why, only taking it as something that needed to be done. She was an obedient girl, respectful toward her father. And she did like being able to swim at all those beaches. That was nice. And they seemed to make a lot more money, which was fine with her.

But she did want some friends.


Equipment:

    [+] Her sketchpad and a pencil.
    [+] A novel.
    [+] A handful of sturdy journals.
    [+] A couple of white handkerchiefs.
    [+] Her old school backpack.
    [+] Markers and colored pencils.
    [+] A few lollipops and restaurant mints.
    [+] Chopsticks.
    [+] Assorted candy wrappers, napkins, and other trash.
    [+] An extra pair of socks.

So begins...

Elsie Mayfaire Reid's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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Donovan sat for a moment, savoring the taste of the croissant. He was still reeling from the sudden influx of information. First, he was being hunted. Second, people were offering him refuge. Granted, these were the same people who had stolen his wallet and then lured him here with it, so what was to say they weren't the ones behind all of this? Donovan huffed to himself, then stood up and approached the young girl, as well. He'd heard the acceptances of the other three, and with such social pressure, who was he to refuse? This was going a bit far just to get his wallet back, but he'd take what he could get if people were trying to kill him. He didn't exactly want to take chances if he would have to, 'expect death within the week,' otherwise.

Coming to a stop in front of the girl, he didn't bother kneeling to talk to her as he said, "I'll take you up on your offer, as well." He expected that more questions were to come, so he didn't say a word. Neither did the girl. She let the three stand there for a minute in silence before extending her hand so quickly Donovan hardly caught it before her small hand was around his wrist. Out of reflex, he pulled it gently away from her, but her grip was firm, so he let it alone at his side, looking down with curiosity at the young girl who stood before the four of them and staving off the urge to apologize to her for trying to hit her hand away. The urge, however, was quelled suddenly when something else called out for his attention.

There was a voice in his head. A young girl's voice. In all his years of hallucinating, years he spent questioning reality itself, he had never once heard the disembodied voice of a girl in his head before. Its voice was sweet yet unnerving, not unlike a music box in a silent room with terrible dampening or a lullaby on a stormy night. Out of place. What it said to him, however, was what caught his attention.

Would you ask the others to please take my hand?

Donovan, though shocked, obliged, seeing no reason to refuse. How, exactly, to word the statement escaped him, so he simply murmured, "She'd like you to take her hand." As if on cue, the girl pushed up the sleeve of her dress and extended her arm to the other three, still not speaking a word.

After waiting a few moments, the girl's face twisted in concentration. Donovan wondered, wary, what she was doing. A telepath? Was that how she was putting words in his head? He certainly wasn't hallucinating her, as the others were all reacting to her presence, as well. Or were they, too, hallucinations, and he was just acting like a crazed man in the middle of a café? But the girl cut off his more paranoid thoughts with her own, high and bell-like. Interrupting him. Either she was very rude or she couldn't read minds. If it was a case of the latter, he was very relieved. He did value his privacy, living alone after spending his childhood an only child.

My name is Elsie. First, I apologize for my father's dramatics. Second, I apologize for my inability to speak— I'll have a whiteboard in a minute, if you'd like to have a more coherent conversation. Third, and most importantly, I'll be answering any questions you might have now that you've all accepted our offer. The girl glanced at the group with a small, polite smile. As for 'who the Hell I am,' all you'll need to know, moving forward, is that I'm to monitor and document your progress to ensure your safety over the course of the next few weeks... or months, depending on how long this takes. As you well know, nothing comes for free, and in exchange for your own safety, we request that you perform a number of tasks for us to cover various... fees. She paused, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to find the next few words. And, as it happens, the very first is right here in San Francisco. How do you all feel about heading to a party tonight?

Donovan took a double-take at the girl. She was grinning like— well, like a girl who'd just announced she was going to a party. Was he really losing it? Resisting again the impulse to shake off her hand, he watched the others for a reaction just to verify his own sanity.

That said, he was verifying his sanity via a winged man and two women in red jackets, so he wasn't sure how definitively it would work.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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"She'd like you to take her hand."The other male in the room said, seeming a bit incredulous. Ezra just smiled and took the hand that was offered him. In a second, his eyebrows were going up and disappeared under his bangs in awestruck wonder.

My name is Elsie. First, I apologize for my father's dramatics. Second, I apologize for my inability to speak— I'll have a whiteboard in a minute, if you'd like to have a more coherent conversation. Third, and most importantly, I'll be answering any questions you might have now that you've all accepted our offer. The girl glanced at the group with a small, polite smile. As for 'who the Hell I am,' all you'll need to know, moving forward, is that I'm to monitor and document your progress to ensure your safety over the course of the next few weeks... or months, depending on how long this takes. As you well know, nothing comes for free, and in exchange for your own safety, we request that you perform a number of tasks for us to cover various... fees. She paused, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to find the next few words. And, as it happens, the very first is right here in San Francisco. How do you all feel about heading to a party tonight?

Ezra grinned carelessly as he continued to hold the girl's hand. He hadn't touched another person in... what was it? Had it really been that long? Months... He relished the softness of her skin and his hand tightened on her smaller one for a fraction of a second before relaxing his hold. Gosh, he felt like a fricken pedo. The lonely winged man forced himself to think about other things, like the party. A party meant people. Lot's of people. Despite his craving for human conversation and contact, it sent his heart a flutter of rapid anxiety. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the last time he had spent time with more than a single person at a time. He couldn't. His dark eyes warmed as he stood, tilting his head in a relaxed, friendly manner.

"Well, a party huh." Ezra reached up to his face with his free hand almost hesitantly and gently tugged on a thin lock of his shiny hair, an old unbreakable habit. "One night out can't kill me. Where is it? But won't it look weird if I go as well, I don't exactly..." His eyes darted quickly to the others with a twinge of self consciousness, before looking back at the girl. "I don't really blend in." Not like you, Ezra added in his head. She could project her thoughts, yet she was so so lucky, cause in everyone else's eyes, she was just a perfectly normal little girl. With a bit of amusement, Ezra ruffled his feathers and thought to himself why he wasn't more weirded out by all this.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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"She'd like you to take her hand." Said the other man in the café, the on without any wings. Naomi felt a little angry at this guy telling her what to do. She was jonesing for luck, and had it been for a big rush, she would have punched that guy out, and then make out with him. However, this seemed to go somewhere, and after wings grabbed the girl's hand, she hesitantly put her little finger on the girl's arm. She kept repeating, 'Don't take luck form a little girl.' In her head. However, soon somewhere very odd happened.

My name is Elsie. First, I apologize for my father's dramatics. Second, I apologize for my inability to speak— I'll have a whiteboard in a minute, if you'd like to have a more coherent conversation. Third, and most importantly, I'll be answering any questions you might have now that you've all accepted our offer. The girl glanced at the group with a small, polite smile. As for 'who the Hell I am,' all you'll need to know, moving forward, is that I'm to monitor and document your progress to ensure your safety over the course of the next few weeks... or months, depending on how long this takes. As you well know, nothing comes for free, and in exchange for your own safety, we request that you perform a number of tasks for us to cover various... fees. She paused, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to find the next few words. And, as it happens, the very first is right here in San Francisco. How do you all feel about heading to a party tonight?

The girl had talked to her, and apparently wings as well, but she recoiled from shock. She never thought that was possible. She looked at the girl in awe. She was amazed, and thankfully, not focused on her need of luck. She showed some improvement in not taking a little from the kid, a feat she would have been unable to do five years ago. She breathed heavily as the lust for luck came back. She had tracked ho long each craving lasts, and by her estimates, she had another 7 minutes and 32 seconds left before she'd be stable again.

At the mention of the party, she had to stop herself from scream, 'YES!' as parties where were she had lived for a while. So many people, just random dancing and sex, it was like a mountain of cocaine for her. Wings showed some slight trepidation about going to a party. She could understand, it wasn't like a winged man could just hang out like a sexy luck thief. She still wanted to touch his wings and was eyeing them.

When he ruffled his feathers, her hand caught on them for a fraction of a second, and she felt a surge of luck. She didn't even realize it, but it felt amazing, each body part gave off a different flavor of luck, and this was new. She about tackled him, but held herself and said, "I'm down for a party any time, any where. Do we have time to go shopping, I think he needs some less.... used clothing." She said referring to the second man, and then she aimed at Wings, "I'm Naomi, by the way. I guess we'll be working together." She said sweetly, her mind working on how she could get more luck from the guy.

The setting changes from san-francisco to Earth

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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#, as written by Naught
"She'd like you to take her hand." How could he possibly know that? She didn't say, mumble, or whisper anything to the man. Plus, she didn't want to touch the girls hand, she was too afraid to but, she knew she had to. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath -not too loud but, enough for her to know that she did. Hesitantly touching the girls arm, she told herself to calm down, and don't think of anything else but, the situation she was in at the moment.

My name is Elsie. First, I apologize for my father's dramatics. Second, I apologize for my inability to speak— I'll have a whiteboard in a minute, if you'd like to have a more coherent conversation. Third, and most importantly, I'll be answering any questions you might have now that you've all accepted our offer. The girl glanced at the group with a small, polite smile. As for 'who the Hell I am,' all you'll need to know, moving forward, is that I'm to monitor and document your progress to ensure your safety over the course of the next few weeks... or months, depending on how long this takes. As you well know, nothing comes for free, and in exchange for your own safety, we request that you perform a number of tasks for us to cover various... fees. She paused, glancing up at the ceiling, trying to find the next few words. And, as it happens, the very first is right here in San Francisco. How do you all feel about heading to a party tonight?

She was a little surprised at how the girl could communicate but, she assumed that the girl did have some type of gift as well. She thought this whole situation was just going by so fast but, she really wasn't bothered by it. She was bothered by a lot of things but, those things were scrambling around in her head she couldn't really think of them one by one.

Remembering about the party,"I thinks that's cool." Whatever she had to do tonight she'll do it, just to keep her family and friends safe. Plus, she hadn't really been in a party mood lately and she wanted to change that. Looking over at everyone, she thought this was a very weird little group and she didn't mind getting to know them either. But, right now she wanted to see what she had gotten herself into.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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The setting changes from earth to San Francisco

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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A performance magician, Donovan knew all too well when he was being watched, pried apart for answers to impossible questions— and the girl unnerved him, with her seeming telepathy. The way she could speak right into his head like his voices worried him that she, too, was reading his mind. But Donovan was quick to chastise himself; there he was, again, acting like he was of the more paranoid flavor of schizophrenic. Like he was schizophrenic at all. Even if he wasn't childhood-onset... he was still young enough.

No. He'd looked it up on the Internet, checked for symptoms. He wasn't the most social of people, but he still felt the desire to interact. His speaking was fine. As far as he knew, he could still experience pleasure. Try as he might, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that his mind was going. He couldn't shake the fear that, if not surely, slowly, he was losing his ability to stop himself from hurting someone. Out of all his fears, a worry that he would snap and lash out plagued him the most.

Words from the bleach-blond angel suckled him away from his paranoia. "Well, a party huh. One night out can't kill me. Where is it? But won't it look weird if I go as well, I don't exactly... I don't really blend in." He was answering the girl's question. So he'd heard her words, too. Donovan's eyes drifted to the angel. Almost ironically, he had such a comfortable air about him that the wings felt like something of an afterthought. Donovan, on the other hand, was doing his best to keep his neurotic side in check. There was a chance he wasn't hallucinating all this. That, or his hallucinations were whacked in the head, too, in which case he really needed help. Except he didn't have money, so what, then?

Years living in and out of various things he couldn't quite reasonably call 'homes' had left the instinct to check his pockets when he was nervous burned into his muscles. His wallet was still gone. Usually, his hands weren't lying to him. He let them sit there, straightening his posture and relaxing his shoulders to take the tense edge off his stance. Winged men? Well, there was only one. And a telepathic little girl?

"I'm down for a party any time, anywhere. Do we have time to go shopping? I think he needs some less.... used clothing." The woman in the red cardigan spoke, and a surge of guilt hit Donovan. Used. Yeah, she was putting it nicely. He didn't want to waste their time, though, hunting down clothing he couldn't afford, anyway. His stomach knotted into a self-conscious ball as she continued, her voice as sweet as honey laced with lead, "I'm Naomi, by the way. I guess we'll be working together." Whoever this Naomi was, Donovan wasn't sure how much he trusted her. Certainly only a little bit more than himself.

Donovan almost missed it when the tall, pretty woman in the leather jacket spoke. All she gave was an almost offhanded acknowledgement. Of the people in the room, she'd said the least but needed to say the most— Donovan had a nagging feeling of curiosity prying at the edges of his conscience. He wasn't sure what to think about her just yet.

Thankfully, his brain had quieted down with the premature judgements and the fragmented sentences. He was calming down again, his brain falling back in synch with his lax posture. He didn't mind going to a party, and he didn't want to be the odd one out. "Sounds alright," he said, unsure what else to say even though his words hardly gave away his inner shyness, "Although Naomi's probably right. How formal's the party? Ah, and I'm Donovan, by the way."

He glanced around, his eyes trying to find something to look at. There was the door. The counter. The girl, who had sunken into one hip as she stood, watching them with eyes that seemed to slink from one man's innards to another. He didn't trust her, either, but he looked to her to break the silence with more answers.

Elsie straightened herself, flicking flyaway hairs back behind her ears with her free hand. A sort of deep-in-thought expression passed over her face, creasing her face in places he'd never have expected on a girl her age. Her nails were painted a bright, summery orange, but they were chipped and bitten down to raw stubs at the thumb and forefinger. He suspected her middle finger would be next to go.

"I suppose I have more to explain to you, then," something of an 'ugh' crossing her face as she said it even though she couldn't speak it, "The party isn't until six o'clock. And unless all of you want to risk getting shot by rooftop snipers returning home, we're all going shopping. We aren't guests, anyway," she paused to glance at Ezra. "Assuming we're not dead by sundown, we're booked as entertainment. This is an expensive venue. Seats sell for thousands, if not more. If all goes well, we'll be paid well; even the down could cover a nice dress or two. So consider it a gift. A reason to trust us."

All Donovan could think was, I'm held at ransom by strange people saying other strange people want to kill me, and I still have a show tonight? The girl smiled up at him, and for a moment he feared she'd heard his thoughts. She turned away to smile at the others, as well, however, and Donovan saw it was just the smile of a young girl excited for a shopping trip. In better times, he might have refused just to be polite, but he was desperate before. Nevermind that fact that he'd never be able to return home again for fear of being shot at his doorstep.

"So," Elsie tilted her head a bit, the grin almost as wide as her face, "Store-hopping it is? I say we get out of this place. It's dark in here. Besides, we can use the opportunity to get to know each other better. Fate knows, we'll have to." She twirled off, not even waiting for their responses, not in the least fazed by the fact that she was spending money that wasn't technically hers to take people she didn't know out shopping.

To keep his worried thoughts from turning on him again, Donovan turned to the tall woman in the red leather jacket, blathering. Blathering like a well-seasoned fraud, but blathering all the same. "Tell me," he mused, "If we're going to get shot dead trying to get home, what keeps us from being targeted right here in the streets?" Still yet, he started toward the door, picking up the handkerchief still lying on the floor and stashing it in his pocket for good measure. It was rude to leave things just sitting there when customers would be coming back in any second, now.

The setting changes from san-francisco to Earth

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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The setting changes from earth to San Francisco

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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"I'm Naomi, by the way. I guess we'll be working together." The Asian woman said in a sugary voice. She had sounded so scornful as she remarked on the other guy's old clothes, making the winged man feel a wave of empathy. He knew what that felt like. For a moment, Ezra lost his voice as he pondered on how to reply. She sounded so sweet now. And it wasn't like attractive women talked to him every day. So he settled for a cheerful smile and nodded. Her jacket was really red. Ezra didn't think he'd ever worn that color before. Way too eye catching. He preferred neutral, dark colors.

"Assuming we're not dead by sundown, we're booked as entertainment. This is an expensive venue. Seats sell for thousands, if not more. If all goes well, we'll be paid well; even the down could cover a nice dress or two. So consider it a gift. A reason to trust us."

She certainly didn't speak like a little girl, Ezra mused, straightening out his slightly stiff shoulders. Yet, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of wariness at the thought of being someones "entertainment." It wasn't even as if the idea was foreign to him. He recorded songs online, sold his little paintings. That was all entertainment. But here, he was going to be in front of apparently super rich people. Who knew what they'd try to do with him... or how much they'd offer to 'buy' him. He shrugged the thought away mentally. Ezra disliked worrying, it just filled his head with negative thoughts. He already agreed to this, so he might as well see it out to the end.

"So," Elsie tilted her head a bit, the grin almost as wide as her face, "Store-hopping it is? I say we get out of this place. It's dark in here. Besides, we can use the opportunity to get to know each other better. Fate knows, we'll have to."

Ezra really adored children. She looked so excited as she happily made her way out. It made him smile. And turning to the three people near him he relaxed his shoulders and grinned. "Guess we're getting new clothes! I'm Ezra by the way. And yes, I can actually fly." He added the last part before anyone posed the question. It was the most highest asked question he had ever received. He followed the little girl out with a pep in his step.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naomi Li Character Portrait: Donovan Greene Katenka Character Portrait: Claudette Dawn Saudi Character Portrait: Ezra Character Portrait: Elsie Mayfaire Reid

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Naomi was smiling still at the winged man smiled back at her. He was probably a good guy at heart with good intentions, he seemed thankful for letting Elise hold her hand. She felt slightly guilty about wanting to ride his luck away, but that was the way her mind worked.

"Assuming we're not dead by sundown, we're booked as entertainment. This is an expensive venue. Seats sell for thousands, if not more. If all goes well, we'll be paid well; even the down could cover a nice dress or two. So consider it a gift. A reason to trust us."

Naomi listened to the girl, not entirely sure how to respond. She liked the idea of mingling with the rich, it was all the better. She liked rich people's luck more so than hobo's, so this got her excited. Although, the powerful didn't really mingle with the entertainment. and she wondered what type of entertainment she would provide. She could make origami, and that was around it. She hoped it wouldn't involve touching people, she didn't need to deal with causing a billionaire crashing his car. The winged man could probably cause some fun, but she wondered still.

"So," Elsie tilted her head a bit, the grin almost as wide as her face, "Store-hopping it is? I say we get out of this place. It's dark in here. Besides, we can use the opportunity to get to know each other better. Fate knows, we'll have to."

Naomi smiled big as she spoke. SHOPPING!!!! This was something she loved to do, and from the sounds of it, she wouldn't have to spend her own money. That was pretty awesome, and got her spirits up a bit.

When the winged man, aka Ezra, spoke. It almost shocked her a little bit, he had been quiet up until now, but he did sound nice. Although she wasn't really thinking if he could fly, so much as ask if she could grope them.

"Well, that sounds like fun. I umm.... Steal luck, I guess is the best way to sum up my 'power'. And, you have some very... potent luck, if I may say so." She spoke and got a little closer to him, her bust sticking out further, to assert herself, it was a base thing she did when she was around good luck.