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 Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 1:14 pm
"Well, it's uh -- " And that's all he got out before he wasn't there anymore -- wasn't entirely himself anymore. He saw people he didn't know (but he did -- Lucas' memory said one was Heliodora, the missing teen, but the Michael-Lucas memory said more), but he did know; his chest beat hard with confusion and fondness, a sort of bond he couldn't explain making his mouth (not his mouth) curve into a smile. " Sorry," he said in a voice that was his and not -- Lucas drew in a breath, eyes blinking rapidly. He was himself again, just in time to hear 'Papa' being uttered to Rylan. His skin crawled with adrenaline, the hairs on his arm standing on end. "Now we have to keep her," he said distantly, his voice not entirely himself. Slower, he flipped another page, grey eyes flitting over the paper in mingled uncertainty and urgency, the craving for an answer nearly all consuming. He hadn't looked up from the journal at all. He entirely missed the male-mother and the other-Rylan portraits.
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 1:43 pm
"Papa?" he echoed. "Him?" He held Sunny out next to the portrait, and shook his head with a laugh. "You look nothing like him!" Then, faintly, he remembered something the real Sunny had said when he'd met her on the beach, after he'd seen her through Imp's eyes. Kin, but not kind. What that was she'd meant? He pulled baby Sunny to him again, watching her nom at the stuffed cat's ear. A quick glance toward the chest told him Lucas was otherwise preoccupied, though with what he wasn't sure. Maybe Michael Mitchell's diary was as entrancing as they'd hoped. Somehow it didn't seem like the time to disturb Lucas. He turned back to baby Sunny. "What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 2:26 pm
Chrystali A memory doesn't consume him this time. This time the page stays what it is, the same sloppy handwriting filling the unruled spaces. The journal entry says: Quote: So if we're some kind of sword then there's got to be, I dunno, a shield? And I guess that's Dora, it's got to be. Circles are for protecting and swords are for stabbing, seems backwards, we're the protectors, Dora's like... I don't like this, I wasn't ever good at these ******** things, maybe the red A is just a red A sometimes!! doesn't make sense?? I'm worried about Eve, she's not taking Blackfriars well, I don't ******** like it and Lucas is upset about the whole ordeal with Tate and I'm only barely eighteen, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HANDLE THIS?? S'not like I asked for it. But I can't leave them, Adoelle needs us all to buy her time. Keep the Enemy in, like we can even do that when the Enemy is ******** Sunny Shore. The ******** were-wolverine is out on that one for sure
Just one ******** turn where I don't die, that's what I want. One ******** turn, holy ******** class="clear"> The rest of the page is consumed by swears. They are very creative. Sunny attempts to squirm back to Rylan, chubby hands grasping out. Once she's returned to her perch, she nestles up again. "Papa," she says complacently. "Kitty?" There's the odd accent in its beginnings, the drawling vowels and crisp, bitten-off consonants, but when she speaks in what must be her native tongue there's no way to even tell what sounds form them. All Rylan hears is the meaning when she says, remember, the overtones of concern, the request for reassurance.
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 2:47 pm
Lucas felt like what he read was a drop into a large pool -- one that was making ripples the more he tried to digest it. Who was barely 18 and knew who the weres were? It said Michael's journal, but -- but Michael died in those events. How could he write about them? Were-wolverine. That was Michael. Who the ******** was writing this? Who the ******** was saying Sunny was The Enemy?He didn't believe it. Then again, there was so little he knew, he didn't know how he could believe any of it -- but he knew he'd have to speak with Dora. Heliodora. The missing teen. ******** cake walk. Why was every attempt he made at untangling the knot only making it tighter? Running a hand over his face, he snapped the book closed and looked over to Rylan and little Sunny. If she was The Enemy, they'd be in her cage, and there were definitely not three teenagers protecting it ( though one had written the journal). Besides. If Sunny was The Enemy, then what in the blue ******** hell did that make him, he who called her Pack? "Ry," he finally said, glancing up at the pictures and only vaguely noting the portrait that looked like Rylan. "We should keep moving. Bring your daughter, would you?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 5:17 pm
"What am I remembering? You?" he asked. What a cute, albeit somewhat unsettlingly alien, kid. "Don't think I'll forget any time soon." If there was something deeper, older that he should remember though... he wasn't sure what. As far as he could piece together, an older version of him had done all of this before, gotten tangled up in this mess as well. But he wasn't sure how, or why, or what had happened. He looked deep into her eyes, trying his best to decipher what she was saying, wondering if there was more. By the time Lucas had finished reading the journal, Rylan was busy trying to tickle Sunny into more gleeful laughter - perhaps in an attempt to squeeze more information out of her. He looked up and could tell from the look on Lucas' face that something wasn't right. "What'd it say?" he asked, moving away from the paintings and toward Lucas with Sunny still in his arms. "Are you sure moving her out of this room isn't going to... I don't know. Bring this place crashing down on us?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 7:50 pm
Sunny giggles until she doesn't, flailing and kicking the whole time like it isn't even a thing. Then she attempts to bite Rylan to get him to stop, but her stuffed cat gets in her way and she settles there instead, chewing placidly on her cat's ear again. She points off through the door. "Kitty," she says. She looks at Lucas meaningfully, then at the door that hadn't been there twenty ******** seconds ago. "Kitty?" Remember?
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Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2016 7:55 pm
"Stuff about a sword, a shield -- Heliodora. Mentions Eve and I by name. And that the Bad Guy is the bundle of joy in your arms." The tight smile he gives Rylan indicates just how much he believes that at the moment. Grey eyes met Sunny's, and Lucas blinked. "Kitty? Like...Lily-cat?" Hah, new nickname! Gently tracing his metal fingers over Sunny's shoulders with intention to soothe, he looked towards the door and exhaled slowly. "Well, why not." Leaning in, he whispered to Sunny, "Keep calling him papa, he likes that." The barest flicker of a smile was visible before he turned towards the door, journal in hand.
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 9:09 am
Rylan frowned down at the little Sunny in his arms. Her toddler form was misleading, but he'd also seen what she really looked like, and... somehow that didn't seem like such a far leap to make. The dots could be connected if they were looking for that connection - but were they? "So, written by someone who was at Blackfriars," he said. How else would they have known Lucas' name? He glanced toward the door, wondering what kind of a wild ride they would find on the other side, hoisted Sunny up a couple of inches to sit comfortably at his side, and nodded. "Nowhere to go but forward," he agreed, heading toward it as well.
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 10:51 am
Sunny does not seem to take Lucas's advice to heart, because her attention is entirely focused on her stuffed animal and the door to the next room. The door swings open and the small group passes through. On the other side, in a room that looks like a chunk taken out of a middle-school library, is Michael Mitchell. He doesn't look anything like he did at Blackfriars. He's entirely human, for one, golden skin unbroken by the fur of his were-wolverine form. There's no hint of pain in his posture. He doesn't even seem aware that he's somewhere abnormal. In his hands is a red 3ds, and he's entirely engrossed in it. "Kitty!" Sunny claps her hands, delightedly. "Kitty!" She looks at Lucas, all bright gap-toothed smiles. "Kitty?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 11:52 am
He only recognized Michael because of his picture that was plastered on the news when his body was found; otherwise, he only knew him as the Rogue. That title itself hadn't set well with him, knowing he was forced there, but everything told by Lady and the Prideful One certainly hadn't been helpful, let alone correct. The sight of the dead man only made his shoulders slump slightly. So this was all some sort of falsification after all. Sunny, he could rationalize because of what she was, but dead people? No sir. It had to be a vision, after all. "I wouldn't call a wolverine a kitty, but -- sure. Kitty." Lucas winked at her and, inwardly tired of the nonsensical, finally just let himself play along. With the journal in one hand, he walked over to his should-have-been mentor and clapped him on the shoulder. "Michael, buddy. I don't think we've formally been introduced." The wolf gave the other a smile, even as he could feel the distant ache of scars on his chest. shibrogane OOC Note: Lucas has no idea about the were-cat at Blackfriars. o/
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 12:16 pm
Michael Mitchell before Other Ashdown, Rylan thought as the door swung open to reveal the boy, standing in the middle of a school. What if, somewhere down the line, there was something similar of all of them? Standing quietly in a natural environment, unfettered by the magic and impending doom of this gloomy place. He hoped not. But by the sounds of it, there was a non-zero chance they'd all be dead within a few years, so maybe it didn't matter. Rylan looked down at Sunny as she gurgled out her words, then at the boy engrossed by his 3DS. "Michael?" he asked, wondering if the vision would do anything out of the ordinary.
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 1:23 pm
"Sure have, Lucas," says Michael. "That first time you turned your hand into a paw, dude." He looks away from Link. "Or that might've been a different Lucas. You look like s**t." He spots Sunny and Rylan and raises the DS in salute. "What up? Haven't met you, man, but it's good to see Sunny has someone else to bother when I'm not around."
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2016 1:53 pm
"I had the honor of being introduced to my role by -- " he almost said Lady, but he wasn't sure Michael would know that, " -- Tate. I might have kicked her in the face since it was kind of done without warning." Lucas smiled, but it was thin. "In this incarnation - supposedly the sixteenth now - we only met when uh -- " he glanced towards Rylan, " -- supposedly, Tate and someone else forced you into Ashdown during the full moon." He paused, hand still on the other's shoulders, expression somber. "You died, man. Before you could talk to any of us." Letting his hand fall, he motioned to Rylan with the journal in hand. "This is Lieutenant Rylan, firefighter, my better part, warg and apparently Sunny's papa in some life. Ry, this is Michael Mitchell, wolverine and the mentor we didn't get to have." It all just came out, like it wasn't a big deal any of them had died so many times before. Motioning to Rylan again, he continued, "He's here to find information about someone named Viv, and I'm here...to find information about us." When he smiled again, it wasn't as half-hearted, crooked with good intent. "We - the weres, the Moonwalkers - we were left in the dark. I was hoping for help." He showed Michael the journal that had the man's name on it, almost sheepish in gesture.
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Posted: Mon Aug 08, 2016 10:38 am
Rylan raised his hand in tentative acknowledgement, remembering what Lucas and Autumn had both told him about cycles. How many times had this all happened before? And which Michael was this one? "Nice to meet you," he said to the boy, taking a few steps closer to stand beside Michael and Lucas with Sunny still sitting in his arms. "She seems like she'd be a handful." He let Lucas talk, and then added, "If you don't mind my asking, what's the meaning behind the sword and the crown and the stars?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 08, 2016 4:36 pm
"She's sweet enough when she's like this," says Michael, narrowing his eyes at the little girl. "Must have found her in early days." He scooted over, making room on the bench he'd been sprawled over. Michael is small, maybe 5'6", but he still takes up an impressive amount of space when he wants to. He rubs a hand over his chin. "I know Ashdown's timey-wimey, but it can't be the sixteenth iteration. It was the nineteenth when I died." Michael doesn't seem that fussed about it. "If you're here, it means you weren't left in the dark. This is... sort of a repository of all knowledge." Michael gestures to the books. "Sort of. Anyway, it only opens up when someone tells it to, and only for certain people and certain subjects. People who don't belong don't make it past the door." Having shared that information, he says, "Ask away, my dude. The sigil's kind of a complicated subject. I don't really get it, I'm not good at that s**t. You'd want..." He thinks. "You know, that guy in the house on the hill, Renard Something-or-other. He's pretty knowledgeable about that s**t. I'd head over to him for talking about the sigil."
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