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 Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2014 10:05 am
Roch art by Inu-Mitsu Cisco art by d-clua
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Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2014 10:59 am
 AMITYVILLE ACADEMY ENROLMENT FORM Name: Rochester England Scythe (Rochester E. Scythe works, too) Nicknames: Roch Gender: Male Age: 19 Faction/Race Reapers - Grim Personality: He would be rebelling, if anyone gave a candlejack about what he did in the first place. His father’s a workaholic who barely seems to realize that Roch is alive, his mother was a demon of gluttony who walked out once the booze was gone. Roch was five at the time, but he still remembers it. It left a big impression on him. Side note: he has a problem with gluttony, himself. He eats a TON (or would, but his dad never gives him enough money) but never gets fat. He’s rough, cocky, cracks jokes easily, and is hard to get to really know because he's never going to see things the way you do. His background shows up at strange moments, and what you might think is appalling (You just BEAT that cannon cat to death, and you're smiling??) he thinks is perfectly normal. There's usually a reason behind these things, but he only half explains, or doesn't explain at all. And he finds them far more enjoyable and entertaining than he should. He's pretty easy to talk to, and is really good with shyer/more reserved students, surprisingly enough. When he was a kid of about eight, he made friends with two ghost boils in the neighborhood (he lives in the ghetto of Halloweentown) and they were playing when the ghosts led him to a dried out well, shoved him in, and covered the hole. He was stuck there in the wet, cold darkness for over an hour, waiting for his pals to come back. They never did. His dad didn’t come to save him, either, not that he expected the old man to. He started trying to climb up out of the well, but the rocks were slippery with slime and other disgusting things he couldn’t see. Fear turned to rage, and for the first time he summoned his weapon. The truth is, he used to be scared of ghosts. He tried to cover it up with anger, but it just winds up with people hurt, himself included. He’s got musical hobbies for the most part. He loves karaoke, but always does it on his own. He’s got this raspy, rough voice that’s as likely to win him a prize as it is to get him kicked out, depending on what he sings. He plays the guitar. Actually, he plays his scythe, which is a working guitar. The sounds that it produces are strange and eerie, and some of the chords have special effects when he channels his FEAR through them. He's started a music club, since there was none before he came. Roch comes from a VERY well known line, one that started even before Skeleton Jack. He would have been elite, had one of his ancestors not been a seriously bad gambler with an addiction. Only the older generations might even realize what his name means. In his family it’s expected of the fathers to name their sons after the place in the human world where they did their greatest job. His father’s name is Austin Texas Scythe. His grandfather was Las Vegas Nevada Scythe. (Guess who lost the family fortune?) Why did they enroll at the academy? That's a story from long ago. Secret facts: ~ If you lure him with lots of food you can get him to do practically anything. He might not LIKE doing it, but he’ll do it! ~ His guitar doesn't need an amp. It seems to have a built in one. Weapon summoning B-day: Jul 3rd Birthday: Nov 15th Fear: Killer Chords A sound based attack where he directs FEAR through certain chords and it affects the enemy for one round. He’s got two so far. A chord is a battle cry attack that does damage to the FEAR shield and can cause people to feel sick. C chord is a healing chord that can be used to heal himself or others. T3: Battle Cry - A Chord T2: The Chill - C Chord T2: The Pulse - Vibrato T1: Swift Strikes: The Riff HP: 60/60 Completely useless for fighting use of FEAR that he has: he can switch his guitar back and forth from an electric style guitar to an electric style bass guitar. It has no source of energy (since it's FEAR) but it sounds like its electric! Natural ability:• Sense Soul: A Grim Reaper has the ability to pin-point exactly when a soul ready to be reaped is. While in Halloweentown, this ability merely lets them pinpoint the exact location of ghosts -- there are no souls to be reaped in Halloweentown. * Shadow Step: A short range teleportation skill; as a first year level ability, he's limited to about once every three minutes and within 50 feet. *Shadow Step 2: 3 minutes is shortened to two. Learned Abilities: Beginner Stealth Difficulty level: Beginner Pre-requisites: N/A Battle Effect: Once per battle, the opponent may choose to roll a 6-sided dice. If the result is a 6, their damage taken this round is halved. Non-battle Effect: A character acquires the ability to walk around sneakilyRequirements: Collect 15 or more trinkets from the Horsemen stealth trial. Beginner First Aid Difficulty level: Beginner Pre-requisites: N/A Battle Effect: Once per battle, a player may choose to roll a 4-sided dice. This is the amount that the player heals themselves or another target for. You forfeit your normal battle attack turn if you want to use this attack. Non-battle Effect: A character can heal small wounds or cuts of other players or themselves, and know how to do basic stitching. Requirements: Score three rounds of a total score of 10 or higher in the open class First Aid 101 Beginner Speed Boost Difficulty level: Beginner Pre-requisites: N/A Battle Effect: Once per battle, a player may choose to roll a 4-sided dice. Their accuracy is raised +1 for the next rolled amount of turns. For example, if I state this used effect and roll a 4, for the next 4 turns, my damage calculated is now -5 instead of -6. You forfeit your normal battle attack turn if you want to use this attack. Non-battle Effect: A character can obtain a small speed boost/ speed surge to seemingly "teleport" a foot, but it can only be used once without them getting super tired. Requirements: Win a single round of the open class of the course Thunder RoadBeginner Battle Aura Difficulty level: Beginner Pre-requisites: N/A Battle Effect: This is an ADD on effect! You cannot use it with your Fear. Once per battle, by using this effect (please state so), instead of rolling your usual 2d6/8/10, you will roll THREE dice. - The first two dice behave as normal, simply add up the damage and subtract 6. - THE LAST DICE, if even, is the additional damage you do DIVIDED BY TWO. If your last dice is odd, you do all of the damage of the THREE DICE ROLLS (the third roll amount divided by two) to yourselfNon-battle Effect: A character acquires the ability to create a menacing aura, perhaps enough to lightly startle others. Requirements: Finish/ defeat the final boss in BEEN FIGHTING BEARS ON THE MOUNTAIN. Scavenger: To use this ability, you must take one battle turn to roll 1d4 (and ICly look for something nearby that can help you in your fight). The result of this role determines what happens on your next turn. You can only do this ONCE per battle, and cannot use it in GM/meta boss fights. Roll a 1: You don't find anything, and your scrambled search throws you off - on your next turn, roll the melee dice for the year below you. (If you are Y1, roll 2d4; Y2, roll 2d6, Y3, roll 2d8.) Roll a 2: You don't find anything that looks better than YOUR OWN FISTS. On your next turn, attack as normal with your usual dice. (No special effect.) Roll a 3-4: You find something! (Item must be logical for the environment you are in, i.e. no finding a torch if you're underwater.) On your next turn, add the value of your YEAR to your roll! [Meaning Y1 = +1, Y2 = +2, etc.!] Intermediate Stealth Difficulty level: Intermediate Pre-requisites: Beginner Stealth Battle Effect: Once per battle, you may choose to roll a 6-sided dice. If the result is a even, their damage taken this round is halved. This does not take up a battle turn and can be stacked on to one normal battle round. Non-battle Effect: A character can go into sneak mode! While in sneak mode, they are not noticed by others for 30 seconds (only those of their year and lower). Make sure to put in OOC the effects of sneak mode so other rpers know! Requirements: Successfully complete Horseman Trial - Intermediate Stealth (Must have passed beginner) Intermediate First Aid Difficulty level: Intermediate Pre-requisites: Beginner First Aid Battle Effect: Once per battle, a player may choose to roll a 8-sided dice. This is the amount that the player heals themselves or another target for. You forfeit your normal battle attack turn if you want to use this attack. Non-battle Effect: A character can heal medium to small wounds or cuts of other players or themselves, and know how to do basic stitching. Requirements: Successfully complete Intermediate First Aid Beginner Disguise: Difficulty level: Beginner Pre-requisites: N/A Battle Effect: N/A Non-battle Effect: Your character can temporarily alter their appearance to look like anyone they have traded student pins with (as long as they are wearing the pin). This only lasts 5 minutes for Y1, 10 for Y2, and 30 for Y3. This is an illusion and is broken if they are attacked. They still sound like themselves though okay, it isn't that advanced. The illusion appearance is only of their student form and not their natural form. Requirements: Successfully complete Disguise for Dummies (aka the TL;DR class) Roch Groanspring!Alumni RP RP Leavin' on a Jet Train (Roch/Edel) [ X] +1pt I'll Come Back -- for YOU (Roch/Danny) [ X] Last Dregs of Loyalty (Roch/Nahm) [ X] Rooftop Rubina (Roch/Meixiang) [ X] +1 YOOOOOO (Roch/Ren) [ X] +1 Casino Royale PARTAH [ X] Meet My Boil (Roch/Meixiang) [ X] +1 No Hotdog Pun Plz (Roch/Verusha) [ X] +1 Ritzy Roch? (Roch/Edel) [ X] +1 Beating Things [ X] +1 BLP Stands for What? [ X] Spars In the Name of Fun [ SP] +2 Solo Passport Solo [ S] +1pt Solo: I Keep Falling [ S] +1 pt Solo: Over and Over [ S] +1 Solo: And Over Again [ S] +1 Solo: Sleepless [ S] +1
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Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2014 12:47 pm
Passport Solo: Sponsor Me, Sponsor You
It started out stupidly–as most things do with Roch, really. He was sitting in a bar, chatting with the bartender about random crap, when the skeleton man leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye–or as close as he could with only sockets. “What’s a bigwig power kid like you doing in a joint like this? Shouldn’t you have a job?”
“I’ve got a job!” Roch said, snorting and taking a large gulp of beer. He turned, looking out at the empty bar for a moment before shrugging. “Well, actually,” he admitted slowly, “I was supposed to become a trick-or-treater. Then I just... didn’t,” he said, not looking at the skeleton. “I packed up and left–haven’t looked back, since.”
“To do what? Hit on ghouls and get laid?” the skeleton asked bluntly.
“That’s just part of it,” Roch said, his eyes falling on a cute little vampire ghoul in the corner. “Honestly, had I known I’d be living like this I would have skipped the schooling altogether. Finding protection charms in these backassed little towns is a pain in the a**,” he mutters, mentally calculating what it would take. “You know, once I was a jackin’ romantic,” he added idly, shooting a wicked grin at the ghoul.
“Ha, yeah right,” the skeleton muttered.
“I was. Thought I’d wait for marriage, settle down–even had a ghoul all picked out and everything. Man I was a candlewaxer,” Roch drawled, looking almost amused at his past self. “Never date a mermaid–they bite,” he added.
“Why don’t you go back, boil?” the skeleton asked.
“What? Why?”
“To become a trick or treater. We NEED trick or treaters. We DON’T need scorndog reapers running around and infecting our daughters,” the skeleton said.
“Dau–daugh–“ Roch tripped over the word.
“Daughter. Here, I’ve got my passport–if it’ll get you out of my bar, and away from my daughter, I’ll act as your sponsor.”
Roch looked over at the ghoul one more time, knowing that he actually DID have a choice. Several, actually, he thought. He could ignore the skeleton, but he’d been talking with the guy for a while and gotten fond of him. He could give up on the ghoul, which was no big deal, really, he could always find another one... in fact, he already had given up. Daughters weren’t his cup of gruel. But...
The skeleton held up a passport, waving it in front of him. “Why not?” Roch asked finally. “It’d give me even more places to check out.”
***
The next day found him standing outside a gate, getting dark looks from the boogies as he waited for the skeleton man to show up. The old guy was late, Roch thought darkly, glancing at the watch hidden among his bracelets. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea, after all. He wasn’t even all that fond of humans! And you definitely can’t pick up ghouls in the real world–he’d heard ALL about that. No, maybe he should skip out, join up with his band again, try–
“What’s taking so long, boil?” the skeleton demanded from behind him. “Afraid of the boogies?”
“Just waiting for you,” Roch said, giving up on running as easily as that. The skeleton walked past him, talking with the boogies for a long moment before turning.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Hey, what’s your name, anyway?” Roch asked as they headed through the portal.
“Jones,” the skeleton told him, stepping out onto a grungy looking sidewalk. Cars raced past in front of them, bigger, sleeker, and faster than Roch had ever seen them. “Quit gawking and get a move on it.”
Roch followed, looking back and forth curiously. He’d only been in the human world a few times, and it’d never been like this. THIS was his kind of town, he thought, doing a spin on the sidewalk just to see everything. The skeleton grabbed his arm and hauled him along. “Here,” he said, pointing and forcing Roch to look up. “That’s where you’ll be based at. You can stay within the city boundaries, but make sure you’re here at this time once a day. Scaring is fine, damaging is not, killing is absolutely out of the question, got it?”
“Yeah, I know the rules,” Roch said, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking up at the building. It looked a lot like his old home, creaky and falling apart. Windows were boarded up, and there was very little to show that humans came here.
“You can mingle, but don’t get caught,” Jones added, ignoring the reaper trying to blow him off. “You know how to be seen, right?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“If you screw up, we’re both in hot water, boil,” Jones said, poking him hard in the chest. “I will make your life HELL. I’m a long descendant from Jack himself, you know.”
“Seriously?” Roch asks, impressed.
“At least that’s what my mom told me,” Jones said. “Now get to work–don’t screw up, either. Did you bring food?”
“Always,” Roch said, holding up his massive bag.
“Good.” The skeleton walked away as easily as that, leaving the punk behind in an unknown world. Not the first time that had happened to him, Roch admitted as he looked up at the building–and headed in.
***
The kids in the neighborhood were the first to notice. It started out as a rumor through the elementary school, spreading like wildfire and leading to this night–the test of courage. Three boys stood in front of the ancient, condemned building. It stood tall in the full moon light, and just as the rumor said, there was the sound of an eerie guitar drifting through the air.
“Whoever runs first–“ Tommy said, staring at the building’s door, “has to do everyone’s homework for LIFE.”
“This is stupid, it’s probably some hobo living there,” Jack said, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at the door. “It’s just a stupid guitar!”
“It doesn’t sound like any guitar I’ve ever heard,” Mike said, taking a handful of chips out of his bag and shoving them into his mouth. He’s the one the other two shove forward. He almost tripped over his feet trying to get up the stairs, given no choice. The door swung open with a bare touch of his hand, revealing the creepy interior of the apartment building. It’d been gutted, with bare bones showing and what little furniture covered by sheets.
“I don’t see nobody,” he said over his shoulder.
“It’s upstairs, doofus.”
“Oh, right,” Mike said, heading for the stairs. He headed up them slowly, wincing every time it squeaked. He almost screamed as he heard someone behind him, only to turn and see the other two glowering at him with flashlights in their hands.
“Keep going!” Tommy hissed. Mike stumbled up to the next floor, stopping as he realized the music was lower. It was eerie–a cold chill raced down his spine and it was only the other boys being there that kept him from running away. It seemed forever, and yet too soon, as they reached the top floor. By this time the boys were both terrified and fascinated by the sound.
Jack was the first to see it. There, in the chair in the middle of the hall, was a man–one that disappeared before they got a good look at him. The three boys looked at each other, screamed their heads off, and raced down the stairs and out of the building.
Roch stopped playing, still lounging over the chair in a casual way, a little grin on his face. “Huh... if you play it, they will come?” he asked himself. He glanced at his watch and hopped to his feet. There was supposed to be a jazz concert downtown soon–the humans’ magazine had said it. He couldn’t WAIT to see it!
***
“So?” Jones asked, leaning back in the chair on the top floor. “You’ve been oddly quiet.”
Roch shrugged, shoving the last of his stuff in his bag. The week had gone by in a flash, mixed with tormenting kids that came to his apartment and haunting the local underground concerts. He’d even mingled with the more punkish crowd, making “friends.” The humans here were a lot less difficult to deal with than the hunters. He just thanked Jack that he hadn’t ran into any hunters. He’d left that part of his life behind.
“Nothing much to say,” he said as he noticed the skeleton still waiting. “Kids are stupid, no matter where you go–word got out that the place was haunted, so I toyed with them.”
“You went to the hospital a few times, too, didn’t you?” Jones said. Roch went still, thinking about that large, white building. “I have some pals that work that route, they passed it on.”
“It’s a... jackin’ fountain of FEAR,” he admitted. “Whenever I got hungry, I’d stop by. Wasn’t the same as eating, but,” he shrugged, “it felt good. Like getting a sick thrill.”
“You...” Jones watched him curiously for a long moment. “You need to go back,” he said. “I expected to have to bail your a** out on a regular basis, but you took to this like a duck to water. You might act like a useless waste of FEAR, but you’ve got some hidden talents, don’t you?”
Roch shrugged. “I am what I am, not what I used to be,” he said simply.
“And what are you, Roch?”
“I’m a guitarist,” Roch said after a long moment of thought.
“You graduated from Amity.”
“Where’d you hear that from?”
“I made a few calls,” Jones said. “You don’t expect me to sponsor a complete stranger, do you? I did a background check. You’re a Scythe. Not many reapers come with an instrument for a weapon.”
“Yeah,” Roch say, his shoulders squaring and a little grin pulling at his lips. “But I never hid that fact–you just never asked.” He headed out, heading for the portal and leaving the skeleton man to shake his head with reluctant amusement.
“That boil...”
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Posted: Sat Dec 27, 2014 7:16 am
Solo: I Keep Falling
“Thanks,” Roch said as he leaned into the mic. He had no idea what town this was–and he knew he had a few calls to make soon, it’d been several months since he checked in with Danny or Terra. His little sister had wound up going back to Los Muertos to take care of El Padre when he fell ill. They hadn’t wanted her to, there, but she insisted when she found out. He expected to hear that she went back to Amity at any time.
Maybe.
He stepped off the stage, telling his band he was going to step outside for a bit, and headed for the door. The air felt good after being in the smoky, smelly bar. He took a moment to raise his face to the sky and breathe in deeply. “Feels GOOD!” he said, throwing his fists into the air. It was all good–traveling the world, joining a band–it was the perfect life.
Someone let out a snort from behind him. He turned, looking blankly at the gothic looking–“Oh jack, not a Valk,” he said, jumping back several feet in one leap.
The Valkyrie looked at him with an incredulous gaze, the tip of her cighoulette falling to the ground. “Wow, don’t get that reaction much,” she said after he just kept staring at her.
“Yeah, uh... sorry,” he said. “Automatic response. I tend to get kicked in the balls by Valks,” he drawled as he dug his phone out of his pocket and started to walk away.
“Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing outside?” she demanded.
“Nope,” Roch said, not even looking back at her as he checked his messages.
“Some gentleman you are,” she drawled with a hint of disgust.
“I never claimed to be one–and you’re just trouble waiting to happen,” Roch replied, texting Danny back briefly before going on to send a note to Terra. Not dead dnt worry - luv Roch. Which was about all she could expect out of him, honestly. He heard the sound of wings flapping behind him, and reluctantly he turned. “Shouldn’t you be a blonde?” he asked.
“It’s dyed,” she said, pointing at her pitch black hair. It went well with her dark red lipstick and the heavy eye makeup. She was hot, he thought. He wasn’t surprised–Valks tended to be that way. “Like yours?” she offered, eyeing his bright purple hair pointedly. “You’re not from these parts, are you? That accent is terrible.”
“It’s not an accent,” he said, reluctantly dropping down on the bench next to her. “I just butcher the language.”
“On purpose?” she asked, letting out a startled laugh. She looked a bit surprised that he’d made her laugh.
“Absolutely,” he said, giving her a grin. “Roch Scythe,” he went on, holding out his hand, “guitarist.”
“Shouldn’t you say you’re a reaper?”
“Isn’t it obvious enough without mentioning it?” Roch said as she reluctantly took the hand offered.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
They met again, the next night. He’d forgotten about her completely after chatting for a few moments and going back inside. It seemed, though, that she hadn’t forgotten him. “Hi,” she said as he came out. “Want a smoke?”
He dropped down on the bench, a beer in his hand. “Nah,” he said, downing his drink. “What ARE you doing out here, anyway?” he asked.
“I was thinking of bagging one of the band members,” she said shamelessly. “Think they give out easily?”
Roch choked on his beer, snorting it out his nose. “What th’ hell!” he yelped before bursting out with laughter. A smug little smile played on her lips as he roared with laughter, grasping his stomach. “Oh, that was good,” he said, finally, wiping away a tear. “You got a thing for bones, huh?” he added, grinning at her.
“Not particularly.”
“Well the rest of the band are all skeletons.”
“You’re a little stupid, aren’t you?” she asked, leaning over him and trailing a hand over his exposed chest. “They’re not the only ones in the band.”
He stared at her, a bit shocked, his mind rushing. “You’re not looking for marriage an’ all tha’ jack, are you?” he asked abruptly. She laughed in his face.
“Do I LOOK like I’m out to become Little Sally Homewrecker?” she asked, still chuckling. “I’m just out for a good time, and musicians turn me on,” she said, leaning up to whisper in his ear. He swallowed. “I’ve got a little hotel room down the street, and protection charms. Meet me there when you’re done,” she added, slipping a key into his hand and walking away.
He went back inside, joining the band and playing only out of habit. His mind was fully focused on the key in his pocket. It felt like it was going to burn through the material of his trench coat. It would, if it could read his mind.
He’d screwed up trying to be good all these years, he told himself firmly as the band finished their gig. This was the perfect opportunity. She was NOTHING like the ghouls from his past. She wasn’t some little delicate creature that seemed to need guarded at all times. She was rough, tough, and out for a good time–no strings attached.
“You coming, Roch?” his drummer called over to him. “We’re going to get SOAKED!”
“Not tonight,” Roch said, taking one step back, and then another. “I’ve got... a proposition,” he said, shadowstepping away. He glanced at the key in his hand as soon as he reached the hotel, hesitating one more time.
He stepped up to the door a few moments later, lifting his hand and knocking before sliding the key in. This would be a trick, he thought. She probably stole the key from some old geezer–
The door swung open and his jaw dropped. Definitely NOT a joke.
WC: 975
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Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2015 12:29 pm
Solo: Over and Over
“You’re stalkin’ me, ain’tcha,” Roch said a week later, looking rather smugly at the Valkyrie in bed with him. “You keep showin’ up at my shows, but y’never come in t’hear them. Why is that?”
“Did you know your accent gets worse after you’ve had a good time?” she asked him. Her name was Emilie, she had told him that first night. It suited her. Blood red fingernails traced over his chest, tracing over one of his tatts curiously. “I’m out for one more thing, actually,” she told him.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Yeah... I’m in line to take over my family business,” she said. “I didn’t want to be–but I’m the oldest daughter. I thought I’d go out and have a good time before I finally settled down to run the business.”
“Sounds like it’d suck,” he admitted, still resting his head on his hands.
“I need a daughter, though.”
He went still. After a long moment he rolled over, reaching down to grab his jeans. “Roch, don’t just run off!” she said, wrapping her arms around his chest and hugging him. “I’m still not out for marriage! I just want to use you for your FEAR,” she told him.
“No way, no how–“
“She’ll have everything she could dream of–a loving family, a position of power–my daughter will have a silver spoon in her mouth, Roch,” she whispered into his ear. “I just need someone strong, someone powerful, someone that has a lineage as long as mine.”
Roch groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re insane–did you SERIOUSLY hunt me down because of–of a busted up old home that’s so jackin’ JUGLY we almost haveta pay people to live there?” he demanded. “Cuz that’s all our family has left–“
“You’re still a Scythe. My grandmother remembers the Scythes, Roch. She’ll accept a Scythe as the FEAR donor for my daughter.” She sat down on the bed, giving him an eyeful. “You won’t have to say or do anything while she’s growing up, Roch,” she said, moving slightly to show off. “All you have to do is pour some of that overwhelming amount of FEAR into a tiny little pumpkin.”
He stared at her. “I don’t–just... let me think about it,” he muttered as he pulled his jeans on and slipped into his boots. He didn’t bother pulling his trench on, just walked out of the hotel shirtless, the trench over his shoulder. He headed back to the tour bus, slipping into his bunk to the catcalls of his bandmates. He didn’t say a word, though, just stared moodily up at the ceiling.
If he did it... his kid could have the kind of life he never got...
But if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have to worry about any kid of his in the first place.
***
A week of gigs went by without seeing her. He wanted to tell himself that was fine–in fact it was for the best–but he kept finding himself searching the shadows for her form. It wasn’t love. He’d had that feeling before, or at least he thought he had. This was... this was obsession, he decided.
And all she wanted was a kid. Technically she could make her own, right? Just pour as much FEAR into the pumpkin as she could... but she was right about him. He DID have more FEAR than the average Halloweener. He could be just giving her a hand, not actually PARENTING the kid, right? He’d poured FEAR into all sorts of stuff in the past! What difference would it make if it was a pumpkin?
He stepped off of the stage, heading outside of yet another dingy bar. The familiar smell of cighoulette smoke floating in the air had him turning.
“Want a smoke?” Emilie asked in a casual tone. She didn’t even blink as he hauled her into his arms. “Miss me, lover boil?” she teased as he breathed in her scent. It was addictive. He shoved her away, jumping back just like he had the first time they met.
“You’re insane,” he declared, pointing at her. “Who finds a guy at random, SLEEPS with them, and then demands they give them a kid??”
“Pretty much half of Halloween?” she said a bit blankly. “I don’t know the ratio of gay to straight, or I’d give you a better answer,” she added thoughtfully, taking another drag off of her smoke. “Then there’s the ones that go for the whole group thing–“
“They don’t do it RANDOMLY!” he bellowed.
“Neither did I,” she said, looking bored. “Roch, you’re thinking too much–it’s not good for you. Just do what you’re best at, take these beautiful hands and–“ she grabbed one of his hands, bringing it up to her chest, “make something musical.”
He jerked his hand away. “I grew up without a Ma,” he said, turning his back on her. “Having only one parent sucks if they’re gone all the time.”
“But I won’t be gone all the time–I’ll be there for her. Roch, trust me in this. All I want from you is a good time and some of your FEAR.” She walked over, her arms going around his chest. “Haven’t I helped you out a lot?” she purred, running her hands over him. “Lover?”
It was stupid. He knew it was stupid, he knew this was exactly how Terra had landed up the way she was–except Terra had been happy growing up. Her mom had been good to her, she had just died, leaving Terra with Vegas. Terra... an image of a pretty little blonde ghoul with wings flashed through his mind. No, he told himself, this was just a FEAR donation–
“I shouldn’t,” he said, groaning and running a hand over his face. “I swore I’d never have kids–“
“You still won’t! You’ll just be donating a bit of FEAR. I would do it myself, but I’d rather have help. I can’t afford to fail, Roch.”
“What’s so important about having a daughter?” Roch asked.
“It’s part of how my family works,” she said. “I need an heir–Roch–“ she said, reaching up and grabbing his jaw, “trust me on this.”
He stared deep into her green eyes, every part of him screaming that this would be a bad idea, and felt himself nod. “Yeah... you’ll take good care of her, right?” he heard himself say.
“Absolutely,” she said, a smile crossing her face.
***
WC: 1065
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 7:39 pm
Solo: And Over Again
He knew it was a bad idea when it started pouring down rain. A crack of thunder roared through the air and he pulled his hood up, already wearing his coat. He hadn’t worn the coat since school, he thinks a bit darkly. That was a bad sign, too. Anything to do with the old days coming into the creation of a new life... well, he wasn’t in a very good mood as he walked into the pumpkin patch.
“I’ve picked the perfect pumpkin,” Emilie said, grabbing his arm and hauling him to the left. “It’s strong, beautiful, and the perfect color. All you need to do is press your hand to it and pour in the FEAR–“
“How long do we have to do this for?” Roch asked. “Is it going to take all night?”
“We take the pumpkin with us,” she said, a hint of irritation flashing in her eyes. “Then we start the spark, after the spark comes we pour in the FEAR. It might take a while, but we can do it, Roch.”
He sighed, stopping next to the pumpkin she had picked and staring down at it with a slight frown. It was smaller than he’d thought–probably only a foot and a half in diameter. He crouched down next to it, reaching out to run a hand over the side. It was hard, and cold, but the orange color was vibrant and the vines coming from the top lush and green. He pressed his hand against the side for a second before standing and holding out his hand.
A startled look crossed Emilie’s face as the FEAR gathered. Idly Roch wondered if she even knew where he’d graduated from. Instead of saying anything, he just summoned his guitar and leaned down, gently slicing through the cord that was attached to the pumpkin. He picked the pumpkin up, standing and turning. “Let’s get out of the rain,” he said as his guitar disappeared.
He felt her eyes on him as they headed back for the hotel, but his attention was grabbed by the pumpkin. It wasn’t a good idea, he knew that. He just was helping her out, though. After he poured FEAR into it, he’d never see what came out of it, probably. She’d just leave with the kid, leaving him with... what? A short affair to remember? A lingering curiosity about the kid he’d helped create?
He stopped at the door, turning to look at her. “One thing,” he said.
“Anything.”
“When she grows up–I don’t care what candlewax they give you about Amityville–don’t send her there.”
“Wh–what?”
“Also, y’can’t tell people she’s a Scythe–unless you’re dyin, got it?” he goes on. “It’ll just ruin her rep.”
“You’re being an idiot,” she says flatly, “plus, that’s two things. And Amity is the BEST school out there–“
“Yeah, why? It ain’t the classes, that for sure,” Roch says. “Maybe it’s all those times they got me killed, or got my friends killed–or how about the–“ he stopped himself, barely. “Jackdammit! Just... I might not be a part o’her life, but I’m still... FEAR of her FEAR,” he said finally, running a hand over his face and holding the pumpkin protectively in his arms. “Promise me at least that much.”
Slowly Emilie nodded, her eyes on the way he held the pumpkin, a frown on her face. “Don’t get attached, Roch,” she said finally, reaching up and taking the pumpkin away. “This is just a one time thing.”
“This is for the good of everyone,” he told her flatly. “For you AND the kid. An’ if you DO send her to Amity, I WILL find out, you got that?” he said, his tone going so cold that it worried her. What, she suddenly wondered, had this boil been through in the past? She had assumed he was a scoundrel and a waste about, but something in his eyes said differently.
“Okay,” she said. “I promise.” He opened the door, and she walked in as he held it open, hugging the pumpkin to her chest. A fleeting thought raced through her mind that she might have picked the wrong callous playboil. She shoved it away as he stepped in, grinning slightly as he looked at the bed. No, he’d get over it, she was sure.
“Not that,” she said, giving him a flirty smile. “First we start, then we have fun.”
“Alright,” Roch said, summoning his guitar. Once again she was struck by the rush of FEAR he gathered. A bit awkwardly she summoned her own staff, holding it in her hand as he walked over to the pumpkin. “Gently, right?” he said, looking her in the eye as that beautiful, long fingered hand touched the pumpkin. She nodded, a bit dumbly, and touched the pumpkin with her free hand as well. Her eyes closed as she gently poured her FEAR into the pumpkin. She could feel him doing the same. His FEAR was sharp and honed, even at this small of a level–the FEAR of someone that had training. More training than she did.
She couldn’t help but look at him as they worked, especially as a spark started in the pumpkin. It was bright and strong, and she pulled her hand away in shock. She’d never felt something like that before. He didn’t even seem to notice, she thought. He just kept trickling that FEAR into the pumpkin, as if doing a daily chore.
“You’re good,” she said after a moment.
“Different amounts of FEAR cause different power outputs from my guitar,” he said, sounding almost bored. “It’s a daily thing–I don’t even really think about it that much anymore.”
She nodded, pouring as much FEAR as slowly as she could, until she felt slightly faint. She looked over at him, noting that he didn’t even look tired. “We can stop now,” she said, pulling her hand away from the pumpkin. “Are you hungry?”
He looked up, breaking into a grin. “Always.”
“I–I um, meant food.”
“I know. So did I.”
***
He couldn’t sleep. They’d been doing it nightly–not IT–well, actually, yeah, that too, but they’d been nursing the pumpkin along for what seemed like forever now. She said it should be enough, soon, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he needed for it to be over. He could feel his old habits trying to rear up again.
He got out of bed, naked as the day he’d been born, and headed to the window of the ratty hotel room, looking out at the slimy looking pool right outside their window. The pumpkin was on the cheap round table next to him, with two rotten looking chairs next to it. He dropped down on one, kicking his feet up in the other one and summoning his guitar.
He wasn’t playing for the pumpkin, he assured himself as he checked the edge of his guitar. Soon he would have to take it to the nearest smithery. It would clear his head, which he could really use right now. His fingers absently found the notes for a song, plucking it out softly in order to keep Emilie from waking. What Breaks a Heart, he realized a bit belatedly. Desiree sang it for him, the notes pure and clear. That sweet tone was something he had grown up with, but his time touring had make his playing even better. He didn’t notice. He was stuck on the song he had unconsciously chosen.
“Well... jack me,” he whispered, letting the last note he played linger in the air. The song wasn’t over by a long shot, but he had to stop himself. He had to leave, he thought abruptly, standing up and going over to pull on his jeans. If he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t be able to walk away–regardless of what Emilie wanted. A part of him...
A part of him LOVED whatever it was that was growing inside the pumpkin. Not the up and down sort of love he’d had in the past–the sort of love that would wind up with someone killed if they–no. He wasn’t to that point, he swore. “Roch?” Emilie asked sleepily from the bed. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got to go,” he said, shrugging his trench coat on and grabbing his bag. “You can finish up here,” he added as he headed for the door. “Remember your promise, Emilie–I’m not someone you want t’piss off.”
He walked out the door, leaving it all behind as he headed for his bike. He made a quick call as he stuck his stuff in his saddlebags. “Yeah, where are you? Yeah? I’ll be there in a couple of hours.” He hung up before his bandmate could ask what was going on. Unable to help himself, he turned and looked back at the hotel. Emilie stood in the door, silhouetted by the room light. She made no move to stop him.
He rode away.
***
WC 1490
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Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2015 7:36 am
Days passed. A week, then another. Each night he would lie in his bed for an hour, staring up at the ceiling of the rickety old tour bus, wondering if the kid had been born. Was she beautiful? He was positive she would be. With it being Halloween, she probably shouldn’t be–but as a reaper, it was acceptable. Blonde hair... would she have his eyes or her ma’s? What color would her wings be?
He rolled over, burying his head under the pillow and trying to shove the thoughts aside. He’d never see her, never hold her, never even know her name. He jerked as his phone rang, a wave of gratitude rushing through him for whoever it would be, regardless of who it was.
“Boil,” Vegas said over the phone, a drawl deep in his voice that instantly made Roch sit up–and bump his head on the ceiling. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“What?”
“Get back here NOW,” the old reaper growled, “you jacking MORON.”
“What?” Roch repeated blankly even as the phone clicked off on him. What had he done that would have Vegas dragging him all the way back to Halloween? He got out of his bunk and landed heavily on the floor, nudging one of the skele-tones. “Yo, I gotta head home–tell the others?”
“Yeah, sure man,” the skeleton said, rolling away from him. Whether or not they found out was impossible to know, but Roch didn’t care. He felt... antsy, he admitted as he slipped on his boots and grabbed his things. A part of him was almost hoping–nah. That would be stupid. He’d gone into the whole thing knowing no one would ever know.
It was the middle of the night as he roared off on his motorcycle, leaving the tour bus behind to sneak back into Halloween. He’d rather not deal with people he knew–or strangers, for that matter, he thought as he parked his bike and looked around. The town was bustling, but for a grim reaper that wasn’t that big of a deal. He looked up. He shadowstepped to the roof of the nearest building, making his way back to Casino Royale.
When he got there, he slipped in through one of the upper windows, as usual, and headed down the stairs to the casino. The place was shockingly empty, he thought as he stepped off the stairs. Usually it would be full of creeple. Instead, only three people surrounded one of the round tables. “Get over here, you dumbass,” his dad called without even looking back.
“Austin! Language!” Monica said. “It’s okay, screechie, he didn’t mean it,” she added in a coo.
“Screechie?” Roch repeated blankly. The three in the middle of the room parted, revealing a little boil sitting on the table with a toy saxophone hugged to his chest. Roch stared, his eyes on the blonde hair and silver eyes. And no wings, his mind added blankly.
“You CAN’T deny the resemblance,” Vegas said dryly. “If the note isn’t enough evidence,” he added, pulling out a sheet of paper. Roch crossed the room, grabbing the sheet and staring at it.
Sorry, Roch, I need a Valkyrie ghoul, not a Grim boil.
Can you take care of him?
Love, Emilie.
“That b***h,” Roch bellowed.
“Roch, language!” Monica rebuked him, her hands over the baby’s ears. “He’s just a baby!”
“So...” Austin said, lighting up a smoke. “Looks like the long tradition of single dads continues.”
Roch groaned, feeling both stressed and slightly (not that he would ever admit it) relieved all at the same time. He headed for the table, looking down at the little boil for a long moment. The little boil looked back at him before holding up his arms.
It seemed almost natural to pick the kid up. “So... can’t exactly dump him in the orphanage,” Vegas said, fingering his cigar thoughtfully. “What will you do?”
“There’s no question of what he’ll do,” Austin said, watching his son and grandson. “It’s just a question of how WELL he’ll do it. Personally I suggest you find one of those cute, ditzy type ghouls like you used to chase and pull the ‘My son needs a mom’ routine.”
“No,” Roch said. “I’m off relationships for good. I’ll just...” he looked at his dad. “Think about everything you did when I was a scareling and do the exact opposite.”
“Ouch, low blow,” Austin muttered.
“But accurate, you’ve got to give him that,” Vegas pointed out. “Now, what’s his name? I vote Seattle. Seattle was always good to me.”
“We’re not naming him Seattle!” Austin said. “How about Baton Rouge? I had a hell of a lot of fun in Baton Rouge.”
“It’s San Francisco,” Roch said, a bit shocked he was willingly going along with the ridiculous naming habits of his family. “His name is San Francisco, since y’can’t exactly hide the fact he’s a Scythe now. It’s where I went to get my passport–I loved it. We’ll call him Cisco for short–you call him Franny and I won’t EVER let you see the kid again, got it?” he added with a pointed look at Monica.
“But Franny–“ she started out, only to laugh. “Cisco is cute, too, I guess. Anything would be for such a spookie like you!” she added in a coo as she took Cisco from Roch’s arms. “Does this mean you’ll be moving back to Halloween Town?” she asked hopefully.
“Nope. It means Cisco is coming with me,” Roch said. “I’ll hang a basket next to my bunk–I think the boils have all raised kids of their own, he’ll be... he’ll be fine,” he said finally, reaching up and playing with the wispy blonde hair. He had no idea what he was getting himself into–he wasn’t even quite twenty years old, definitely NOT parent material–
But he was all the kid had. No, he thought as the others crowded around the boil, he wasn’t. The circle would be larger, even, if he told Danny and the others... he watched the scareling thoughtfully, shoving his hands into his pockets as he decided what to do. If he told them now, they’d know just how much he’d screwed up while gone. That he’d been screwed over by yet another female, too. It was pretty much par for the course in his experience, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d rather not let them know.
“So... um... what does he eat?” Roch asked as they passed the baby around. “Do I gotta get baby stuff?” The three turned to stare at him, a cighoulette and a cigar both falling to the floor as their jaws dropped open slightly.
“Monica?” Austin said finally. “Can you teach my kid how to take care of a kid? Otherwise this one’s never going to survive.”
Monica just nodded.
***
WC 1137
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