◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: contemplative ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ He ... He couldn't ... It was all so quick for him. A second of relaxation turned to terror. Cherno looked wide-eyed and petrified as he saw the commotion in front of him. The crazed girl yelling about her friend. Her choking of the young boy. What was ... what was happening? And why couldn't Cherno move?! He was in shock. That's right. These random people. In shock. In shock, and he felt terrible, useless. He couldn't reply. His words became mumbled. Who was this girl? What was going on? And Anthony was released. Was this the one they called "Temperance"? Why ... why was she so crazy? Cherno's heart sank. What was wrong? What was happening? Harley picked her up and carried her off. Goddamn. He stayed in the water, unable to move. Anthony's voice was rough and coarse. He was not even able to figure out anything about himself. What the hell just happened? It took a long while for Cherno to snap back to his senses. Spoiler Bang. But his eyes shone again, after looking with a dead, dull stare at the entire scene. He saw Anthony off to the side, his neck probably sore. Shoot, the cute kid was hurt. Was he okay? Please be okay. Please be okay, Anthony. Cherno slowly moved his hand through the water. It was a ghostly movement, as if he was testing out his limbs for the first time. His whole body felt sore. Why was his heart hurting over this? It was as if during the entire ordeal his heart screamed to release itself from his chest, but it simply could not. ... He waded over to Anthony and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Was he really doing this? Hugging a strange kid he just met. Or rather, he just figured out about. He still knew nothing about him. But, you know, strangers in their weakest moments needed help as well, right? "Please be okay, friend." He said quietly, before releasing him and moving to the other side of the small spring, looking away. He looked towards the running water. Spoiler Running water. ... Temperance. Temperance? He looked down at his hands. They were a bit wrinkled from the water, and with a dulled face, he traced lines through his fingers as he thought. Temperance was the girl who was freaking out. Why was she freaking out? She seemed really, really sad about it as well. He needed to know more. Cherno needed to know more. "I'm getting out." Cherno said to Anthony, but without looking at him. He climbed out of the hot spring and deftly wrapped the towel he had on his head around his waist. Maybe the gift would make her happier. Where did she go? Harley said that she would be going back to her room. Cherno walked over to the bag, his feet cold and wet from the cooling mountain air. He opened it up and looked inside for Temperance's gift. There it was. Perfect, perfect! ... Wait. What was that? Was that his phone? Hot damn. Jackpot! Widening his eyes in joy, he quickly placed the gift on the nearby wooden bench and took out his phone. It was cracked, slightly. Why was it cracked? Ugh. These questions kept building up. His mind was going to have a throbbing headache at this point. He knew these people, right? Cherno quickly clicked through to the contact list. Wait. What? He only had five numbers here. What the heck? But ... but the gifts ... And who was the "medicine seller"? Cherno thought back to the bottle of pills from when he first woke up. Where were they? Did they disappear? He didn't even remember seeing them when he went into the men's room. Did someone steal them? What ... what did he even need them for? Goddammit. What if they were for something important? Ugh. This was terrible. All of it. Cherno lowered his eyes and brought his fist close to the bag to punch it in frustration. ...But this bag was filled with presents. It was filled with the hope and love of his past self. Cherno couldn't bring himself to punch his memories, and he rested his fist with a sigh. Temperance was in his contact list. He had no idea who the other two people were. John? Brian? He wondered what type of people they were like. Were they here as well? Anthony was also on the list. They must have been good friends in the past, or something. No wonder he called him "Master of Logic". But Cherno was not in the mood for any of these shenanigans. He opened Temperance's contact information and began to write her a text message. But he froze. There was a drafted message saved there, never sent. This was another relic of the man once named Cherno. What would he do? Would he send it? ... She was ill before? God, this girl didn't seem to get a break, did she? Cherno's heart felt thin and weak. His stomach sunk. He felt more and more worry come to him. Why the hell did he-- did he feel so goddamn worried over a stranger? That's right. Because whomever this person was, Cherno must have cared a lot for her, right? Sigh. He kept the message in a draft. It would be a memento. A personal one. It would remind Cherno about the Cherno that once had been. Instead, he sent a new one. But all that was rushing through his mind right now was the girl's reeling. Cherno had lost his foxlike smile this moment long ago. But he would have to keep a mask. Just for now. Just for this moment. So he smiled, and turned back to Anthony, still lounging in the water. "Would you be happenstancin' to bunking with me on the night-day tonight, friend? After I-- I figure out my room, of course ... ahaha ..." Real smooth, Cherno. He blushed in embarrassment, looking sheepish. He couldn't really keep up much right now, though. "I'll be going to bed late, though. I've-- uh, I've got some tiddly little doohickey majigs to take care of, you dig? When-- when we see each other later. Yeah. Could you be jolly enough to explain to me who is this 'sister' of yours, friend? Wonderful!" He closed his eyes and inhaled loudly, placing his fists on his hips in a defiant pose. "Hero of the Estate! I am giving you ... a task, a very important task." He coughed a bit. Could ... could he keep this up? "I need you to use your skills to guard this bag." He shot forth a finger at the open sack, before bowing towards him and turning towards the direction of the men's room with his phone and Temperance's gift. Quickly, he turned back to Anthony, winked, and extended his index finger at him in the motion of a gun, because he thought that was a cool thing to do, right? But he did not say anything. Inside, there were a few wooden basket spaces on the sides. Slots, slots ... There we go. One filled basket for a man named ... "Cherno". "Cherno Plume". Cherno's face lowered. Who was this man, Cherno Plume, really? His thoughts echoed to what Anthony had said earlier, where he wondered if he really was still Cherno.Was he really still Cherno? This worried him. This worried him greatly. His face became a bit strained. His heart became a bit sore. But he had to be quick. He looked through the basket. Some old clothes of his. It was a glove, some bandages, and a nice jacket, among a few other items. Cherno had a strange fashion sense. But no pills. What happened to the pills? Why did he feel so worried so much? Did ... did Cherno need the pills to survive? ... He fought back that thought. Nah. He-- he would be okay, right? Below his old clothes were a set of pajamas, traditional to the valley, along with a pair of wooden sandals. How-- lovely. Lovely? Aaah .... Cherno did not feel as, as enthusiastic anymore. He dropped the towel and quickly changed into the pajamas, slipping his wet feet into the wooden sandals. He placed the old towel on the bench, to be picked up by the cleaners, and walked out of the men's room. The main building. The signs pointed him forward. ◤ ♪◢theme of remembrance | polaris vector It was getting a bit late. Torches lit the cold path, and the soft wind bit at his bare toes. Cherno shivered. It was getting really cold. But you know what? He looked down at the gift. He would be figuring out a few things tonight. Hopefully, of course. So he continued walking. The yards were empty, broken up by small gardens, torches, and bridges over tiny canals of moving spring water. Steam shot up here and there, but there was not a soul in sight. He looked to the stars as he crossed through the yard, his wooden sandals loudly clacking against the stones of the path. Clack. Clack. Clack. Would the stars guide him? Was there anything waiting for him up there, that yelled to him about his past life? Why was it so hard to remember? He stopped by the final bridge that led into the main building, curtains of mist dancing around his thinly-clothed, wet body. The stars were awfully bright tonight. He had never seen anything like it before, anyway. He wondered if he did. He placed the gift beside him on the ground, and brought his hand towards the twinkling sky, wrapping his thumb and forefinger around the brightest star. Polaris, right? It always guided people home. It guided people to the things they knew about. To where they had history. Where they had memories. ... He sighed, and dropped his hand. He would have to be his own star. Or perhaps the others were stars of his own. He picked up the gift and entered the building. Save for a few electric lights and decorative torches, it was empty and a bit dark. But it was soothing. Calming. A nice place to wait and sit. Maybe relax for a bit. Cherno walked over to one of the sofas and plonked down on it, taking off his sandals and stretching his feet. He glanced at his hands again with a sigh. It was just here that he noticed a small, barely visible scar on his left. What had Cherno gotten into in his previous time? Well, he hoped that his little guiding star would decide to come. He looked at the warm light of the torches. But right now? Right now, all he could think of, as he reflected on the horrible screams of the tortured girl, was how he had failed to be Cherno Plume. --- Spoiler: Cherno? (10/12) I am Cherno xxxxx (10/12) I am not actually Cherno xxxxx, because I do not have his memories (10/12) Cherno xxxxx was a person who gave gifts to people (10/12) Cherno xxxxx was a person with odd vernacular (10/12) Cherno knew Anthony in his past life, but did not know Harley(10/12) Cherno was a person who knew Anthony and Temperance (10/12) Cherno was a person who would have helped her otherwise (10/12) Cherno was Cherno Plume.
This is why I wanted to be a rod when I grew up, not a staff. Now everyone hates me. *anime tears*
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: jovial ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ "Um ... You're Cherno." He was. He was ... Cherno? ... Cherno. Cherno. ... Spoiler Bang. ◤ ♪◢hot springs | the x-intercepts of trembling parabolas Cherno's eyes widened as they stared off into the distance, past the other man, looking particularly at the nothingness and the swirling mist around them. Immediately, they snapped back to reality. He slowly lowered his head and brushed a wet palm through his warm black hair, his face a scowl of attempted remembrance. Cherno. Cherno. He was Cherno? Was he really ... Cherno? He ... he knew these people? "Cherno ..." He looked at the card in his hand, addressed to Anthony. He wrote this? Why-- why was it written in such an awkwardly silly vernacular? Cherno could not help but chuckle at the writing of his past self. It was messy, too. This was him? It couldn't be him. Could it? He looked to the side with lowered, suspicious eyes, his mouth tingling with worry, whispering nothings, before turning back to Anthony and plastering on his foxlike smile. "I'm sorry there, Anthony, friend." He laughed a bit. "I guess ... I guess I'm Cherno, sure thing, friend, but I'm quagmiredly not quite penchant-miliar with what sort of hellzapoppin' doodad that has to do with me. What is a Cherno anyway?" He widened his kind eyes and shrugged. "What's in a name? A Cherno by any other name smells just as sweet, or something, aha!" Good show! He placed his hand to his mouth and closed his eyes in an impish little snicker at this reference. "It's a shame," He continued, scratching his head. "I have no idea what that entails! Or maybe I'd like to beat out the fact that I had no idea who or what a Cherno was in his ... past life. Could I call it that, say?" He wondered if he had a phone with him. Did he have a phone? How could he even forget that? Dear lord, what ... what happened to his memory? It was frightening. The dread slowly struck at the empty holes in Cherno's heart, where cherished memories, now lost, once roamed free. So, if ... if he was this "Cherno" person, he knew these people before. He gave them gifts, after all, right? He-- he had history with them. Oh, oh no. Hm. He really ... he really did have amnesia, did he? Oh dear oh dear. This was a problem. This was gregariously a significant significant problem to tackle. Cherno paced around like a cat. Well, he had history with some of them. The other young man had by this time introduced himself. Upon looking at him, however, Cherno immediately felt an unease. He seemed calming at first glance, but ... but there was something very, very off about him. Cherno fixed his posture, raising taller, and turned a tad more solemn as he met Harley's gaze. For a moment, he intensely stared at Harley with a flat, observing, judgmental face, but it quickly morphed into the foxlike smile as Cherno closed his eyes. "How do you do, my good friend?" Cherno extended his hand. "Of course, that'd be a lie, aha! I actually, am sorry to say, not very familiar with you. But you seem like a radical jolly good brother, you dig?" Cherno opened his eyes again, his piercing gold gaze staring directly into Harley's cold eyes. "Did I really bump my head? I'd have to further my little ditty of research, y'know! Ahaha!" Cherno placed his palm to his head as he let out another amused laugh. int logic ( ) { Is he hiding a secret? Only further observation will tell. And would Cherno have really known him? There was no present for him in the bag. Why was that? There were still a few unexplained questions, weren't there. } And the bag. He mentioned the bag, did he? Cherno recalled the names he saw before. So many of them. So versatile. He pondered what sort of people all of them were. It made him almost giddy, meeting new people. Oh, how wonderfuuuuul! But Harley? There was-- there was no Harley. "I'm sorry." Cherno said, after thinking for a good while. "There are gifts in the bag, but ... Cherno didn't really seem to have you in his intentions. It makes me-- it makes me think Cherno and yourself didn't really speak in the past, I take it? It's all very unexplained to me." He continued to stare at Harley for a silent pause. The rush of running water entering the steamy hot spring nearby served as the only noise to break the silence, and Cherno's thoughts ran like a waterfall. He finally closed his eyes and brought his arms behind his head. He let out a loud yawn. "That's why I'd like to pop you friends a question, if that'd be formidable to your senses. Aha!" He opened his eyes and flashed a sly, sinister, and mischievous smile to both Anthony and Harley. "I am a tabula rasa. The first step in figuring out the sequences of the past is discussion with the past, you dig?" "We are in a hot spring I have no idea about, after all! Ahahaha! So, I'd like to ask," ◤ ♪◢theme II of cherno plume | memento's asymptote He extended his arms behind him in the direction of the hot spring, and bowed pleasantly. Droplets of water dripped about from his thick strands of black hair and his bare, pale skin. "Would you be cool to join the man half-naked in the stripping away of his memories, this 'Cherno'?" --- Spoiler: Cherno? (10/12) I am Cherno xxxxx (10/12) I am not actually Cherno xxxxx, because I do not have his memories (10/12) Cherno xxxxx was a person who gave gifts to people (10/12) Cherno xxxxx was a person with odd vernacular (10/12) Cherno knew Anthony in his past life, but did not know Harley
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: curious ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ ◤ ♪◢hot springs | the x-intercepts of trembling parabolas Anthony Evans. Hero of the Estate. Hero of the Estate ... ? ... Spoiler For a second, a chord of apprehension over the boy's very presence struck his heart. As if he had seen him before and he considered him very loopy. ... Ahahaha! What a creative young boy! He laughed loudly and jovially, his voice echoing through the small hot spring shack and this particular part of the complex. Hero of the Estate. Anthony Evans. He smiled and ruffled Anthony's hair a bit. Was that why he considered him a ... a "Master of Logic". Odd. He didn't really feel like the logical type, did he? Then again, he-- he seemed to be-- flexing his mind muscles back-- there-- Wait. Anthony. Anthony Evans. His smile dropped immediately and turned into an expression of bewilderment. int logic ( ) { Anthony? That's right, it was the name in the card! Was that gift for him? Anthony is a common name, it could be for any Anthony ... But it was his best choice, no? This Anthony was at the hot springs. What if it was for another Anthony ... Maybe this Anthony knows who Cherno is? If not, it could be for another Anthony. Anthony would have to know Cherno, no? That is right, Cherno signed his name! It implied an existing relationship! If he asked it could determine which Anthony he was and who Cherno was. } Cherno dropped his hand away from Anthony's hair and rushed over to the large sack of gifts. He pulled out the first one, the video game, and looked at the card. Anthony. Anthony. "'Scuse me, um, Anthony!" Cherno chuckled a bit. "I've got a little tiddy question I may send your way, upside to the rebound? Jolly jolly!" He turned towards Anthony, holding the gift and the card in his hand. The steam from the nearby spring seemed to be slowly entering the building with a curtain of wet heat, wrapping its tendrils around him as he faced Anthony and the other two. He walked over to the young boy again, his bare feet leaving a slight trail of wet woodprints behind him, as if he was followed by a demon of the mist. "This card looks like its addressed to you, friend! But I need you to clear up something for me. Do you know where this er, Cherno, fellow has jived off to?"
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: curious ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ ◤ ♪◢hot springs | the x-intercepts of trembling parabolas Oh. There were people. People, huh? "Master of logic!" one cried. He was a young boy with -- with heterochromia? Multi-coloured eyes. How jive! He was very interested in the boy. With him came a few others -- it was a young man that seemed to give off the impression of sadistic desire. How beautiful! In a terrifying way! He slunk back in his towel, blushing slightly, but keeping his smile. Oh, it was wonderful seeing new people! He stood up. "Hello friends!" He called out. "You're looking all jive stompin' fantastic today. But I'd like to be privy to knowing a few things if you'd not minding confiding in me, hey?" His face was wide with a genuinely bright smile that seemed to light up his pale body, and his eyes were jovial. "We're all human-folks after all, you dig?" He shifted like a curious cat over to the young boy and stood in front of him. Looking down at him, he couldn't ... couldn't help but draw conclusions. How weird. It felt odd to him, but it seemed as if it was built into his mind. Is this what he meant by "master of logic"? int logic ( ) { This young boy seems eager ... He called me a Master of Logic! How sweet! His dress seems to show he's a sort of dedicated little young lad ... Perhaps not more than middle or high school! How fantastic! But he did call me a master of logic ... Does he know who I am? I must ask him a question! Grand! } He smiled deviously and slapped his knee in humorous amusement. He could finally get some help in this crazy place. Maybe. His face lost its grin for a second, as he stood standing, wide eyed and thinking deeply. But it returned, and his face became almost fox-like. "''Scuse me friend, but I'd like to know a few things if you may. You dig?" He placed his hands to his back and his chest and bowed deeply. "How do you do. Pleasure to meet you, after all. Anywho, I'd like to know one thing." "Why is it that do you call me a master of logic?" He tilted his head to the side inquisitively. His enthusiasm and energy seemed like a combination between content Victorian politeness and the excitement of a puppy.
Damn Old Man +50000 Yelling at Altair
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: --- ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ ... Spoiler Urgh. He woke up. He ... he woke up? Where ... what-- was ... what was going on? He looked around him. He was. Oh wait. What? Was he naked? Oh ... oh, the water was a bit warm. It was ... soothing? Soothing. Steam puffed around in great clouds, shrouding his nude body in the mists of a mystery. Where ... where was he? What happened? He stepped out of the hot spring. There was nobody there, right? Was there a towel, anywhere? Towel, towel ... there was a bag. It was a large bag, that's for sure. He looked by the bag and found a towel, and immediately wrapped it around himself, below his torso. Much more comfortable. The steam from the hot spring drifted around the spring lazily, shifting through the wet wooden boards and small pebbles that poked at his bare feet. A small bottle was placed by the bag, but he didn't pay it any attention. He looked through the bag. There was -- what, huh. There was a bunch of things in here. They were wrapped carefully. Definitely gifts. He brought one out, something that seemed to resemble a video game, and shook it slightly. Sealed tight. There was a card on the top. He took a look inside. He put the gift back in the bag and quickly retrieved another one. This one was more delicate - it was a bow, of sorts? It looked nice. Expensive, too. Huh. He put back the gift, and kept taking out a few. More and more. He looked through the cards, and each of them had a distinct message. They were all very special, weren't they? Tyler. Aileen. Johnathan. Altair. Elizabeth. A "damn old man". He got to the final gift. The note was simple, but the present seemed to have taken the most care. He put the last gift away and kept the bag close to him, lifting it inside the hot spring's towel chamber. He brought the pills with him as well, because he needed to think. Pills helped, right? He heard some movement outside. Cars. Were there others here? Maybe they could help, because it had been bothering him for a bit. Who in the world was Cherno, and who the heck were all of these strange people? cherno arc_1 ( ) { end
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: furious ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ "Get your bag in there, you fool. You know. It is large, and I am doing you a favour." "What the fuck are you talking about, you rat-" "Now now, there is no need to be insulting. And insensitive. You bastard. I am the only one who has what you need, of course." God fucking damnit. "Your bag is so heavy. Why do you fill it with so many things. You think you care about people." "Was it you who decided to make me unable to get on any of the buses, you witch?" "You are very much a child who cannot tell reality from fiction." The medicine seller turned around from by her car and rattled the bottle of pills in her hand. "I am doing you a favour for your own good. Do you really think. People would help you normally otherwise. Hahahahahahahahahahahaha." Cherno lunged at the medicine seller. Who the hell did she think she was? She-- she had-- But the medicine seller dodged swiftly, sidestepping. CRASH. FUCK. Cherno slammed into-- into the car ... he-- he felt so dizzy, and-- and so much pain. He slumped to the floor. "G--give me ... back ... back those ..." Was he slipping away? The medicine seller smiled her rather devious grin. "I am doing you a favour for your own good. Do you really think. People would help you normally otherwise." She again shook the bottle of pills in her hand and shut the door containing Cherno's largely stuffed bag. "Presents for friends. It is silly. You rat." She cackled. Cherno could barely feel his throbbing head. He felt ... was the medicine seller carrying-- lifting him into the car? What? "Wh--who are ... who are you really?" The words barely tumbled out of his mouth, and were but a whisper through the wind. "Speak louder. I will drop you. At the hot springs for some relaxation." "H--how ..." "I know everything about your past, Cherno Plume. That is why I must black it out for you." And as she rattled the pills and started her car, Cherno's vision dimmed and blackened. His phone, having been clasped in this hand all this time, had an unfinished message on it in reply to Temperance.
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: stressed | tired ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ ◤ ♪◢downtown corridor | capitalist quadratic... Hot springs. Hot springs? Hot springs. ... HOT SPRINGS?! Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. Hot springs. No. Oh goddamnit, why now. Cherno looked ahead at the rest of the Downtown Corridor. Shops and boutiques lined the enormous baroque hall. It seemed like something out of an elegant Russian rococo palace. Golden statues lined small hip-height aqueducts that carried water to large fountains. The ceilings rose high and were vaulted, gilded slightly and painted elegantly in frescos resembling the Sistine Chapel. Spiralling pillars held up everything, and people flocked throughout the shops and upon the tiled floors, carrying enormously stuffed shopping bags. It all seemed very excessive and gaudy for Cherno's tastes, but he liked the place. He could get some really nice things here, you know. But right now? Right now, his attention was focused on the message in front of him. Hot springs. First of all, how did Brian even get his phone number? int logic () { Who was left in the house?It was basically everybody but him. Who there has his number? Out of everyone, Temperance was the only person to have his number, right? Temperance and ... Anthony. Anthony gave Brian his number. Brian texted everyone else as well. Either Brian had everyone else's numbers, or Anthony gave the missing ones to Brian. Brian does not have enough connections with everyone. Furthermore, Anthony has his methods of discovering people's numbers ... somehow. Anthony must have given Brian the numbers of everyone in the group. What an asset that kid is. } And that included him. Jesus. The hot springs? Of all times right now? Well ... it was winter, yes? But -- but people would see him naked -- a-and, the water ... Cherno ... did not want to think about that right now. He continued on his way through the enormous Downtown Corridor. For a relatively linear shopping space, it was enormously long, that is, and it had its own sub-corridors and the lot that connected to each other in the end. It was like a bunch of right angles that, altogether, formed a straight line of sorts. But Cherno had to rush. He put away the phone, his newly-gloved injured hand slipping into his pocket, and moved to the first store. It was a men's coat store. He quickly purchased a nice grey longcoat and replaced his current tattered mess with it. All throughout the transaction, the storekeeper shot him sidelong and suspicious glances. Ugh. He ran away before people could wonder how much of a bum he was. He could leave now, he supposed, but the store across the way caught his eye. Fifty Dragons Gaming Dojo ... ? ... Cherno thought about the crazy kid. He was ... he was not that bad, after all. He was smart, huh? Anthony had helped him. And ... and everyone. Cherno looked down at his wallet. ... A few minutes later, Cherno exited the large, loud, blinking store with a new video game. It felt nice, to be able to get people things, huh? It ... it took Cherno's mind off of everything else. Maybe he should get something ... for everyone? Maybe. He retrieved his phone and looked at one of Temperance's texts. What would she even like? Cherno wondered. But it was getting a bit late. Perhaps he should rest. Well, off to the train station it was. Cherno smoothed his hair a bit, held the video game close to his chest, sighed gently, and moved towards the corridor's connection to the Cathedral subway station. Hot springs. Hot springs. There was not a date, was there? As he sat down on one of the subway benches, he picked up his phone and replied to Brian's text message. Ah. Was this really a good idea? Well, it served to unite them more, right? More bonds. They could ... aah, they could face off against ... Crestatia easier ... he supposed. It was a tiring day. Cherno had almost forgotten about the strange events he had seen at the pharmacy with the amount of effort it took to procure gloves and get through the entire corridor. So Cherno wrapped himself in his old jacket, and dozed off on the bench. All the while the medicine seller, waiting for her train, watched him sleeping.
Hello! Yes I am, I apologize you had to hear my terrible singing. A pleasure to meet you, Oda. How do you do?
Though this is definitely a sensitive issue, I recommend that people refrain from directly insulting others. It would be lovely if opinions could be exchanged without scathing and targeting comments behind them, and even through that it would most likely be easier for both sides to understand the other more so. Thank you kindly. I personally believe it is natural for some people to need to collectively sympathize with each other - and that is how they can connect, I suppose. Although times move on things are not forgotten, and the like. This may be an odd comparison, but I have had many events in the recent past involving the deaths of family members, and though I do not think about it all of the time, it does not mean I forget them, indeed. That being said, it is at the same time good to remember to not get too obsessive and drowned within the despair, if one can. People can learn lessons from this and prevent things in the future as well. Hopefully, anyhow. (cue for I am not getting into the politics of US gun control). Keep your feet on the ground but keep moving forward, as one may say.
Username: What? Usergroup: Banned
Cherno's Perfect Math Class Spoiler
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: stressed | tired ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: ◢ ◤ ♪◢medical district | painkiller cosecant Cherno stared groggily at the enormous structure in front of him. He still wondered who the hell would place such a crazily-designed building in the middle of the otherwise normally-styled neighbourhood. It seemed so confusing -- ugh. What kind of architecture was this trying to represent? Fucking architects. The city was filled with them. Or was that just his grumpiness talking? Who would even house an entire pharmacy in something like that anyway? Wow, he felt so whiny. It was his grumpiness talking. Cherno yawned and scratched his head. He guessed the building looked okay. Smooth and modern, even. He was so far away from everyone and everything. It was as if there had not even been a flood up north. The City Centre Pharmacy seemed to be his only company here. Why did he decide to take a rest on the subway? Bah. He forgets now. Too much too much. He was still tired as well. At this time of day there weren't many people wandering around the building. Funny too. How many victims had there been from that rainstorm? Cherno hoped it wasn't too many. He wondered if the hospital was filled, since it would be hard to get to Bitter Point. Was Altair at Bitter Point? He didn't see him here. He wouldn't know. Temperance was going there, right? To get herself checked. Ugh. More and more trouble. Cherno looked down at the solid cement walkway. A few people of all ages slowly waded past him, encased in their own worlds of business. Leaves were strewn about his feet - the last few of an eventually sordid winter. He thought about the e-mail. How long had it been? Jesus. When would Crestatia strike next? He felt-- he felt, more nervous and apprehensive than usual. Nothing had changed beyond that death. It hurt to just think about it. Cherno quickly shook his head and started on his way into the building. When would she strike next? Where would she strike next? It was all so confusing. Ridiculous and confusing. And fuck, it would make him display his emotions in public, would it? Crestatia was a big fat assclown. Cherno, what the fuck are you doing? Get your feet to the damn building already so you can find a place to sleep and continue your little measly quest! The quest. That's right. The dream. That dream. The fucking dream that keeps happening and happening. Cherno looked down at his injured hand as he walked. Bandages. Maybe he would buy a glove. That sounds nice. Nobody deserves to see his failure of obliviousness anymore, and only he can experience the pain. Not of the hand, no. But of that fucking dream. It kept coming to him. And coming, and coming, and coming, and it would never stop. Never let him go. The past would not drop his bass down on the dance floor anymore, no. Fucking dreams. It was a side effect of the painkillers, wasn't it? It was, and he was going to go get some new ones and finally-- CRASH. FUCKING- Wait, what? ... Cherno rose from his collapsed position on the floor, rubbing his elbow and injured hand slightly. His eyes were closed, winced in slight pain. Who-- what-- who was ... "You big fat assclown! Yo, get your ass up so I can get a good look at your face, kid!" Cherno looked up. That voice ... But his eyes couldn't open. What? What the fuck was going on? "'Ey yo! Look at me when I'm speaking to you, you frivolous little nancypants!" "I-- I can't open my eyes! Goddamnit!" He tried rubbing his eyes-- fuck. OW. What was-- oh my god, what was going on? His eyes. They were so sore. They hurt. It was as if opening his eyes would make him look at a blinding light. He-- he couldn't ... "Open your eyes! Now!" Goddamnit. Cherno slammed his good hand against the concrete in frustration. Why couldn't he even get up? What the hell was going on? Was he dying? Was someone beating him up? Fuck. Open your eyes you useless prick. Open them. Fucking open them! But you can't, can you? Because you're useless. Useless. Unable to help anything, not even yourself. And here you are, getting beat for your continual misfortune. "I... I can't ..." Cherno looked away. Why was this all so painful? "Get up! Cherno! Help me, please!" Those words. What? Slap. Cherno opened his eyes. ◤ ♪◢??? He was on his knees, his hand bruised from a rough hit against the concrete. He looked up -- and, and there was nobody there in front of him? Wait, what? He turned to his right. A rather old lady gazed at him in ... was that worry? Frustration? Her grey eyes were so cloudy, he could barely tell. Her lips were pursed and intent while guarded by her saggy cheeks, and her thick glasses reflected Cherno's pale, sweaty face. She grasped a small purse tightly, with her tiny, bony hands. "You crazy kids." She said with a monotonous voice of robotic coldness and steel. Her breath smelled of roses. Pleasant. "What in the lord's name do you think you were doing out here, little boy. Putting on a show. Ha!" She smiled menacingly, and almost spat in Cherno's face. "Where do you think this is, Ravensview? Please get up, you tramp." Her voice seemed monotone, but gained a very sarcastic when she emphasized certain words. Who was this woman? Was he the one who told him to open his eyes? Cherno rose. The old lady looked up at him, her flowery clothing blowing in the soft winds and her eyes intensely gazing at him from beneath her enormous hat. Who was this lady? Great, he angered someone else. "I'm sorry ... uh, ma'am", Cherno said, dusting off his pants. The woman did not break her intent gaze. Why was she so serious. Cherno shifted a bit, nervously. He chuckled a bit lamely. "But I've gotta ask. Why, uh, why did you want me to open my eyes?" "What are you talking about." Her voice was flat, with no inflection of a question, but she turned her head to her side inquisitively. "You were babbling to yourself like you were putting on some sort of crazy street show, you cantakerous fool." "Were you hallucinating." Wait. Was he? But-- but it seemed so real. Fuck. It-- it couldn't be-- "Were you hallucinating. Hallucinating." Cherno looked back at the woman. She was smiling evilly again. God fucking dammit this chick was cray cray. "Haha ... l-look, missus. I-- uh, I appreciate your concern. But I have to go jive skedaddle off to the pharmacy to get some more pills, you dig?" Cherno tried putting on his best smile. Did he really hallucinate all that? "You know, I'm a craaaaaazy kid and all. It's-- it's expected really ... with the state of this city. And the economy!" But it seemed so real to him. "So look, thanks, but it wasn't a show. It was, uh, something ... right. Sorry. Thanks bro! Wait, I- I mean--" Goddammit Cherno stop slipping your tongue. "Which kind of pills" "What?" What was she getting at? "Which kind of pills do you require, you bastard." Her mouth formed another creepy smile at these words. This was getting crazy. She wasn't ... she wasn't, no, she couldn't be-- ... "YOU DEMON!" Cherno yelled in her face. The woman did not flinch, but others turned to look at them. Wait. No. Goddammit. Cherno's face turned red. He-- he didn't-- "Look, my young boy. Excuse me. Let me get out something first." She rummaged in her purse and took out a cigarette and a lighter. With a deft motion, seemingly showing her decades of experience with the device, she quickly lit her cigarette and slowly stuck it in her mouth. "I love killing sticks. Hahahahahahahaha!" Cherno sighed. "I am one of the head managers of City Centre Pharmaceutical. You could even say--" She took a puff of her cigarette, the scent of smoke making Cherno clear his throat. Ugh. "I'm someone who can help you. I may have the right thing you need right in my purse." She smiled again, and gave the impression of a mocking hyena. She quickly flashed her pharmacy worker tag. It ... it seemed accurate enough. Cherno took out a ten dollar bill and held it close to him. "If you can pay me right here, I can settle this claim. But it is a matter of morality." "Y--you want me to pay you for--" What was she getting at now? She quickly took a bottle out of her purse. It was small and opaque. It was ... it was a different sort of painkiller, it seemed. Wait ... What? "My young boy." Stop smiling goddammit. "I have what you need here. Your troubles will end with those painkillers. Maybe. For you see." She shook the bottle. Pills rattled inside. "If you accept this prescription, the side effects include ... more dependency, and less nightmares. Do you understand my point, dearest fool." "H-- How the hell do you know about all this?" "I have my ways, young man." She did not break her serious, steely gaze directly into Cherno's eyes. She seemed so very unreadable, and it made Cherno's mind hurt. "When you work in the ... pharmaceutical industry for a, bit. You can learn things. Many." She tapped her glasses gently. "That hand. Those hallucinations. Proxyprolingesalycic is not the best choice for you. You need something more potent and more grounding." She handed the bottle to Cherno. "By the way," she added in her robotic tone. "We are all out of proxyprolingesalycic. That flood. Who knew. Well, it turns out you have no choice and must take this. But thou must, huh. Just like the choices life presents to you." She snatched the bill away from Cherno before he could even react, and walked away. What the hell was that. Was he-- was he just scammed? Fucking-- He ran over to the building and entered quickly. It seemed empty. Why was it empty? Was he hallucinating again? He rushed over to the counter, his tattered coat billowing out behind him in echoes of street rat qualities. Oh fuck. "Hello, young boy." The bespectabled old woman with the sagging cheeks turned back to him and smiled. How did she get here so fast?! Cherno was at a loss of words. "Please. Did you think I was actually kidding you. That is a crime, you know." She adjusted her glasses slightly. Cherno had enough of this. He slammed the table, frustrated. "You seem to do that a lot." "Who the hell are you, really? Are you related to the--" He stopped himself from mentioning the e-mail. He-- he couldn't risk it. But it seemed so suspicious. The woman did not react at this slip up, and simply continued on. ◤ ♪◢the medicine seller "I am your simple medicine seller." Cherno was at a loss of words. He was done. He was so done. So what did he do? He just walked out, silently, with whatever remaining dignity he had intact, continuing to stare at the pills he had, never breaking eye contact with them. As he exited, he felt the gaze of the woman upon the back of his neck. There was something about her that didn't sit right with him. As if she knew more about things than met the eye.
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: stressed ▣ interaction: ▣ ooc: this is very short because I am busy so conclusions◢ Ding. The doors of the subway train opened. Funny. Cherno had been the only one in this particular car. Was it this particular train? It was getting late, after all. And he was so, so far from everything - far from the other ones at Brian's home. Far from his own home. Hospital Station, called the voice. Hospital Station. As if taunting him. He slinked out of his seat and quickly stepped onto the platform. The doors of the empty train slowly slid shut behind him, and rushed quickly back into the tunnel, sending debris, dust, and paper scattering around in the turbulent winds of a then-departed subway train. Cherno's robes blew around in the dusty uproar. It was getting late. Could he make it to the hospital on time? The station was only a short walk from the largest hospital in the city. He was bound to find something better than his normal painkillers there, right? But he yawned. Did they day already pass by so quickly? He looked at his bandaged hand, and took out his phone from his pocket. Still indecisive in regards to whether or not you should reply to Temperance, huh? Oh Cherno. It definitely was a bit late for him. He looked at the nearby benches. The station terminals were surprisingly clean -- at least, for what subway stations could be. It was fitting considering how this station was right next to an institute of sanitation. Maybe he would go get them earlier in the morning. The lines must have been long tonight. Not to mention his problem wasn't even that serious. He stepped towards a bench and laid down, looking upward at the elegantly painted marble ceiling. The entire station was designed like a Greek architectural fantasy - black and white marble floors, engravings, elegant pillars, and bright paintings on the ceiling resembling the Sistine Chapel frescoes. It seemed a bit too extravagant for something like a train station, but for all Cherno knew, Coy City could very well be their very own Moscow. He slipped a few painkillers into his mouth and gulped them down. Just take some rest, Cherno. Just some rest. Everything will be okay. God, you feel like a bum. And with that, Cherno's eyes slowly closed as he fell asleep on the subway bench, alone.
Oh god. Is that Maddox. That was a fun laugh. Thank you sir!
Oh definitely! There are so many episodes though oh lordy. How are you sir? And I see you have been visited by the Dangan Ronpa fairy.
◤ tumblr ▣ logic ▣ mood: contemplative ▣ interaction:▣ ooc: ◢ Beep. A text? Cherno retrieved his phone and looked at the message. ... Oh lord, Temperance. You silly girl. Cherno sighed, but it was a content sigh -- one of relief, really. He was glad that she was safe and was able to make it through the night. What did he really have to worry about with her? She was strong. "No need to come barreling in on a raft". Pffffft. Cherno chuckled to himself. It felt strange, laughing right at this very moment. Why did Cherno's heart feel a bit sore? He looked back to the sky. The sun was climbing towards the edges of the silvery, cloudy puffs. Morning had its cannons ready. The streets already seemed to become more lively in the minutes he had stayed here. It was a calm after a storm. It placated Cherno's turbulent soul. But only for a bit. He knew that there would be no such thing as respite for himself anymore. There would be no more respite. He looked to his bad hand. The bandages were fraying. There was some dried blood here and there. How disgusting. It was dulled by the effect of the painkillers. He picked his small bottle of painkillers out of the pocket and it to the sky, blocking the sun and casting a speckled gloom through the shiny translucent plastic. He was going to run out of these things soon, and Bitter Point was too far a walk to get there. Almost impossible. Through the orange, fiery tint of his painkiller bottle, he contemplated the dream that jabbed at his mind only recently; the dream that forever jabbed at his mind whenever he seemed to take these. It seemed to him that dulling physical pain only brought forth emotional pain. What was to exchange if the reduction of pain only brought more? But he had little choice. He hid the bottle back in the pockets of his tattered coat, held his bad hand close to him so it could not be seen, and rose towards the sun. Cherno stopped at the ground for a bit, peering at the little motions and movements that were made by the wee little creatures - lives of their own that seemed so very insignificant for someone of his size. Did Crestatia treat them as mere ants? He then looked to the sun. It seemed to grow brighter, as if forecasting a new dawn upon the city and their little "game". Hell, part of the city was physically changed by the flood. What was in store for them? Cherno had little idea of that, but for now he had enough idea of what he would immediately set out to do. He retrieved his phone again and replied to Temperance. She was at the hospital. Was it really that bad? Or did it simply confirm his suspicions of one of his possibilities? But to be honest, could he really trust his own deductions right now? What a tricky young lady. Cherno sighed and turned back to Brian's house. No. Not right now. He would have to leave quickly and quietly. He slunk past the house of the stylish scarved boy like a shadow, where the others had gathered. It was a shame, Cherno considered as he walked towards the subway station, that he wouldn't be coming back for a while. And as he walked north, through the burgeoning current of South Bellhurst cars, he noticed that the leaves of the trees had long gone. Much of the street was rife with leaves - recently dead or continuing their decay. Winter was a season of death and rebirth. The building was large and very angular - a cubic, modern dream. Cherno descended the steps slowly, into the depths of the city's dark artificial catacomb transport. And as he entered the eerily quiet staircase passage that led towards the ticket booths, he failed to notice the single leaf that sailed the wind towards him from a pile of dead leaves sitting by the entrance.
Note for clarification: These are the same character, she simply has two personalities. Descriptions for personality can use the first profile or erm, combine the two somehow. Mixture. Melange. *wiggles fingers*(I apologize for the length as a result. And the confusion!) Full Name: Marigold Roncesvalles Appearance: Here Age: 13 Likes: arguments, showing off her tough attitude, flowers, pretty dresses, art (especially post 1900s modern), the colour white, spicy food, classical music, rock music, cats and kittens, volunteering, small animals, piano music, rap music, kindness shown to herself, hugs, tears Dislikes: math and science, the cold weather, ice, big coats, her locket, the people she knows, people in general, peace and calm, teddy bears, violins, sweet food, smoking, stuck-up arrogant people, the colour black, the person who gave her the locket, her family, herself, showing mercy to others, children, blood Weaknesses/Fears: the colour black, anything related to her past, showing mercy, showing self-restraint especially in terms of violence or substances, set rational paths of thinking especially with deductive reasoning, unable to see herself in a positive light, other people she does not know, her own sense of identity, the dark, being cold, being alone, fearing people will leave her, kindness shown to herself, her self-noted characteristics of inadequacy, claustrophobia, arachnophobia, hugs,blood Strengths/Talents: Arm-wrestling, speed, cunning, sharp thinking, wit, strength, street smarts, ability to handle most technologies well at first glance, good directional and navigational sense, extreme survival skill, good at cooking, art, and poetry, creative, very good acting and pretending skills, inductive reasoning Personality: Marigold Roncesvalles is what you could call a tough cookie. Strong and determined of mind, she takes the world with a rough, adventurous, and extremely callous attitude, showing little mercy from the little it has shown her. She is blunt and straight to the point, and often gets into - and enjoys - fights, with which her cunning deceit, trickery, and swiftness she often wins. However, she is slow to win the affection of anyone, and because of this and her past she often has enormous insecurities and problems in herself and her own conditions, often manifesting as another side of her. Sexuality: ??? Contact Information: Tumblr Favorite Color: Gold Leitmotif Style: Here Full Name: Marigold Roncesvalles Appearance: Here Age: 13 Likes: flowers, toying with others, getting her way, math,the cold weather, ice, peace and calm, teddy bears, violins, classical music, sweet food, easily manipulated people, video games, the internet, Japanese animation, art (pre 1900s modern), the colour black, magic and mystical powers, pretty dresses, elegance, wine, astronomy, haiku and senryu, cats and kittens, suffering, children, blood Dislikes: arguments, small animals, being visible, history, archaeology, loud and obnoxious music, loud and obnoxious people, showing mercy, feeling happy (including in others except children), hope in the futures of her pawns, the colour white, spicy food, loud laughter, not getting her way, physical affection, her locket, the person who gave her locket, her family, herself, her sense of vengeance, kindness shown to herself, tears Weaknesses/Fears: the colour white, associating with others, showing emotion, showing mercy, understanding others, other people in general, kindness shown to herself, unable to see herself in a positive light, being alone, her irrational desire for justice on the world, her feelings of inadequacy, her own sense of identity, agoraphobia, arachnophobia, children, tears Strengths/Talents: critical rational paths of logic (deductive reasoning), manipulation of others, good sense of style and aesthetic, excellent calculation and logical skills, can easily handle and get out of situations, excellent acting and maskingability, elegant fighter, quickness, wit, survival instinct, book smarts, disconnecting herself from the people she harms Personality: Marigold Roncesvalles is what you would call a heartless monster. Cold and calculating, she despises the world around her with a sharpened rage that she keeps in her ice cold heart, sealed away in another side of a mask that is only accessed when enough trauma buffets her other face. Though it would be innaccurate to call this the true Marigold, it is the Marigold that shows up in light of facing light-threatening problems, and it is the Marigold that cares only about itself, thinking of others as mere objects and pawns. This state is the manifestation of her insecurities, and because of this her self-confidence are often manifesting as another side of her. Sexuality: ??? Contact Information: Tumblr Favorite Color: Goldenrod Leitmotif Style: Here
Gosh darn it I cannot even be a part of this orgy. I assure you the staff are not doing me.
