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 Posted: Thu Oct 20, 2011 11:26 pm
▨ Capture the Cat // Fritz + H ebe
In which Celsus reveals himself to H ebe. In a completely innocent way.
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Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2011 5:10 pm
▨ I Haven't Seen You Before // Celsus + Niflhel
In which Celsus meets a squire and fights a youma.
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Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2011 5:14 pm
▨ Well, Looky Here // Celsus + Osumilite
In which Celsus has his first Negaverse encounter and it does not go well.
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Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2011 11:32 pm
Piles upon piles of different sized papers lay strewn across the floor of Fritz's bedroom; from small, thin sheets ripped out of notebooks, to the thicker, textured papers from various sketchbooks, to greenish boxed papers that had fallen out of his rather worn looking lab manual from science. The only thing that each set of papers had in common was what was written on them - or rather, what was drawn on them.
Faces, dozens of them, looked up at Fritz from where they lay. Half-finished scribblings done while he was bored in a maths class, full-bodied renderings from his arts block, ridiculous little cartoons that he tended to sketch when he had a jolt of inspiration.
None of them looked right. Half of them didn't even look like human beings.
Fritz, standing in the center of his room, felt frustration welling up inside of him. He reached for the large easel that stood beside his desk and ripped off a sheet of the brown butcher paper that had been draped over it. Flinging it against the wall, he tacked it securely in place, grabbed a Sharpie, and began scribbling.
Ten minutes later, Fritz stepped back, examining his work. A face had started to form, but again - it was not the picture in his mind.
He tore the paper down.
Painting was next; perhaps the scent of acrylics would get his inspiration working the way it was supposed to. He grabbed a large canvas and threw it onto the easel, flipped a brush into his hand, and splashed some paint onto the end of it. Then he promptly swiped the brush across the canvas, drawing a dark line of blue.
No, he thought, quite some time later, as he looked at the not even half-finished painting in front of him with an expression of great dismay. No, that's not it either.
Fritz did not believe in mistakes when it came to art, not really. If he accidentally drew a line on a sketch that had not been intended to be there, most of the time he attempted to draw around it, somehow incorporate it into his piece. But his mind today was one giant mess, like Christmas lights that had been simply balled up and tossed away in a box until some poor, unsuspecting fool pulled them out twelve months later and realized it would take practically an entire day to untangle them. Every line he made seemed wrong; every stroke of his brush, curve of his pen, every line made by the graphite pencil tucked behind one ear - it all seemed out of place, wavering.
Uncertain.
Perhaps that was it; after all, an artist's pieces represented a part of themselves in every stroke.
Maybe that's it, Fritz thought, still staring at the painting with a despondent expression on his freckled face. Maybe it's because I'm so conflicted inside that I can't do this right now. Maybe it's because I can't settle my own thoughts, because I'm so uncertain of everything, of what I'm doing, of myself...
The brush fell from his hand, landing - thankfully - on the already paint-spattered sheet taped beneath the easel to prevent any accidents. Fritz took a few stumbling steps backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed and he sat down rather abruptly, acrylic-flecked hands folding together in his lap.
No, said a voice in his head - one of those little, nagging ones that usually said things completely unnecessarily and mostly derogatory. No, it's just because you're losing your touch. Your muse has deserted you because -
Fritz shoved the voice out of his head. Frowning a bit, he reached a hand up, absently rubbing the back of his neck and smearing blue across his skin without realizing it. The convoluted thing made sense - since disappearing that day six weeks ago, nothing had been the same - and nothing would ever be the same.
He was not Frederick St. James. Not only. But being Celsus, Page of Chronos was simultaneously thrilling and nervewracking. He'd had no idea, no real idea of just how dangerous Destiny City was. Clueless to the world around him, Frederick St. James had merely walked through life on the happy rainbow cloud of ignorance.
Said cloud had long since dissipated.
He did not regret it, however, contrary to whatever his feelings might be. To be a part of something like the Chronos Knights was the opportunity of a lifetime, not to mention it was something he had been destined to become. It was what he had been waiting for his entire life so far - without realizing he had been waiting for it.
Is that even possible? To wait for something without knowing?
He knew the answer to that question already, of course. Fritz gave a small sigh, dropping his hand back into his lap and flopping backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Linking his fingers beneath his head, his eyes traced the lines of the tacky, plastic, glow-in-the-dark stars stuck haphazardly across the dark blue of his room.
You will get used to it, in time. It was what everyone kept telling him, after all. You'll get used to it.
Just wait.
He did not really like waiting. But there was no rushing this, no pushing past the strenuous, confusing, and exciting new lifestyle just so he would not have to face the less thrilling aspects. What was that old saying? Patience is a virtue?
Fritz closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.
Patience, young grasshopper. Patience.
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Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2011 11:59 pm
▨ Hello Again! // Celsus + Bifröst
In which two Pages of Chronos chill.
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Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2011 11:52 pm
▨ Half-off all Halloween Costumes // Fritz + Ian
In which Fritz reunites with an old friend.
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 12:09 am
Frederick St. James sat on the window seat that overlooked the streets below. If he craned his neck enough, sat close to the window and pressed his face to the glass, he would be able to see the small back patio area that could be entered through their living room, down the hall from his bedroom. Tolliver had set out a series of potted plants, explaining (in very measured tones, as if Fritz were slow) that they would make their place seem more homey.
Fritz had said that it made them seem girlish.
It had taken him almost a full hour in the shower to get all of the tomato sauce out of his hair, though Tolliver had reminded him, with a triumphant grin, that it was the same color as his hair and no one would have noticed anyway.
Now, however, Fritz sat alone in his spacious bedroom, absently twisting the beaded necklace he was wearing around his neck. Tolliver had long since gone to bed, but Fritz had been unable to calm himself, easily growing restless, his mind working a mile a minute.
He was not used to this - not used to keeping secrets from his brother. As twins, they had spent their entire life together. Everything they did was balanced off of the other one, and every word they spoke they shared with one another. Though it was clear that he and Tolliver were two very different people with different interests, it did not mean that they did not share that undeniable, unshakable bond between identical twins. A bond between a younger and an older brother was one thing; the relationship shared between two people born on exactly the same day, nearly the same time, and had grown up with someone just like them, was more different than Fritz could have ever explained properly.
He closed his eyes, his mother's voice melting into his mind.
"Why do you always have to do everything together? Why can't you just be separate?"
"What are you talking about?" said Tolliver.
"We are separate," said Fritz.
Then they had both laughed, amused at their own cleverness. That seemed so long ago, so very long ago, back before anything had happened.
Back before he had found out who he was.
The glass of the window felt cool against his cheek as Fritz laid his head against it, his arms resting across his knees, which were drawn up almost to his chest. It was nearing one in the morning; the city below was quiet, its inhabitants having already gone to sleep - most of them, that was. But Fritz was not - not yet.
This time it was someone else's voice who came into his head, unbidden.
"Your signet ring? Every Knight has one. It's crucial, a special part of being part of this whole thing. I can't give you one; you'll have to find it on your Wonder somewhere. That's not my journey to undertake - that's yours."
He had not gone yet. Fritz held out his bare hand, stretching out his arm and spreading his fingers wide in the shadowed light of the moon. A ripple of energy shivered down his spine, and he closed his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper, the words breathed out quietly like a gentle, but firm breeze.
"I pledge my life and loyalty to Chronos and to Celsus.
I humbly request your aid, so that in return I may give you mine."
There was a small shuddering, a flash of light, and then he was gone.[ continued here ]
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 12:49 am
▨ Be More Than When I Left // Celsus
In which Celsus searches for something very important and also meets someone very important.
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Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2011 1:32 am
▨ Punch, Slide, Shuffle, Kick // Celsus + Maia
In which Celsus meets a senshi and they fight.
In a nice way.
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Posted: Sun Nov 06, 2011 10:38 pm
▨ First Time For Everything // Celsus + Concordia
In which Celsus and Concordia do their Knight thing.
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Posted: Mon Nov 07, 2011 10:59 pm
▨ Shades of Grey // Celsus + Remarque
In which old friends enemies reunite.
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Posted: Wed Nov 16, 2011 10:32 pm
▨ In the Dark of the Knight // Celsus + Navi
In which the night is long and the enmity is clear.
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Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2011 9:10 pm
▨ Tangled // Fritz + Jett
In which Fritz yo-yo's too much. Oops.
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Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2011 9:29 pm
▨ Not the Knight I Was Looking For // Celsus + Lesath
In which Celsus is made to deliver a message.
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2011 9:07 pm
▨ [ Mau ] I TOUGHT I TAW A PUDDY TAT // Celsus + H ebe
In which Celsus is......a........cat.
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