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[ Rehab Center ]

The floor: cool. The room: large, he thought. There were pillars, far-away walls that sounds echoed off of, hollow spaces that were objects. It all buzzed around the edges of his senses, even with his face hidden behind layers of cloth and tumbling bangs, sprawled on the floor with some insistent gnat chattering away in his ear.

He reached up to slap at it, in a familiar kind of way, but there was nothing there.

"I'm the gnat." His own words echoed, to him, before disappearing into the blank boredom of this basic room. As he stood, stretching his back to pop all the vertebrae in his spine (sticking out even through the rough fabric of his shirt), Ever hummed and clicked, like the insect he imagined he was. The sounds sent echoes enough around the room that he could follow them, slow and easy, to the table in the middle of the room.

Here, of course, he was pulled up short. Hands walked over the edges of gems and swirling iron work, found the pen and pricked one finger on its tip, thoughtful. It meant very little to Ever.

Instead, he turned his head toward the sound and the smell of outside air, of something beyond this room, a wind that whipped up the ragged end of cloth that hung down his spine, and drew in a deep breath though his nose. Then away, toward the door in the distance. And then he went very still, listening (hopefully) for the sound of familiar footsteps.

[ Rehab Center ]

It was incredibly stark, near blinding in it's overwhelming whiteness—and this from a stallion with a deep appreciation for the color. Or lack-there-or. Modern, he thought it was called, though how or where the thought had come from, he couldn't say. Nor, in fact, how he had gotten there. And that was certainly the more troubling of the two.

It left him pursing his lips, sucking air through his teeth before letting out a breath that carried a subtle, almost metallic buzz. He wasn't accustomed to not knowing. It was irksome, and had the alchemist rising to his bare feet. It was then that he was joined by another member of his clan, a sage this time. He looked the mare over, gauging, as if she were more a thing and less another person with feelings and thoughts and intelligence. She blinked large, dark eyes at him, impatient, and points the end of a pen at him.

"Your name?"

A wide grin split the stallions face. "Zyk." The syllables stretched, then bitten off at the end. And again, that soft buzzing, growing in volume as he chuckled.

"Good, you remember that much at least." The end of the pen was directed towards a door in the far wall. "The exits that way." Very curt, very vague, and they were gone before Zyk had the chance to question them further. Humming thoughtfully, he lingered for a moment longer, glancing around, before making his leisurely out.

Only to stop almost immediately.

Brows arched, he entered the room diagonal to the one he had been in. A broad smile resting on sharp features. "Oh, lucky day." Now here was a paleness he could better appreciate. Pure, but not aggressive. He lay the darkened tips of thin fingers on the other stallion's shoulder. "You look a bit," he chuckled, amused by his own humor. "Lost."

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OOC

Character's name: Zyk
Character's clan: Famine Alchemist
Character's journal link: xxx
Character's Arcana: Chariot
BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER: Tall and thin with dark skin and a shaved head. His hands are blackened, the darkness creeping up his arms, and there are jeweled beetles scattered here and there about his person. He doesn't wear much, but what he does wear consists of fine silks and glittering jewelry.

[ Rehab Center ]

Yu's eyes slowly opened, scanning her surroundings.
Though her mind felt hazy, she did her best to take in everything she saw.
A stark white room, a table, a window...

It still bothered her that she couldn't remember. What... WAS it that she forgot?
She closed her eyes again and gingerly rubbed her temples.
This was going to be bothering her for some time...

With a sigh, she opened them again, gazing at the wall once more.
Part of her was itching to adorn it with SOME sort of painting, or at least do something to spruce the room up a bit, but that was not of immediate concern at the moment. However, it was hard to fight the perfectionist in her.

Doing her utmost best to ignore this desire, she decided to investigate the table further.
The workmanship was impeccable, and she couldn't help but admire it.
Despite often keeping to such drab colours, their knowledge and skill in crafting and jewelry was second to none.

The adornment in the window however, was greeted with less enthusiasm.
She did appreciate the zeal of the more... exuberant race of the four, but it she would definitely never allow one within the mere VIEWING vicinity of something that even resembled anything sharp.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, she looked out the window.
Even with the rain she felt a longing to go out, curiousity grasping her to what lay outside.

Deciding that she had enough of staring outside, she turned to leave, spotting a Famine in the process.
Ah, maybe had answers to the questions she sought.
When they asked her name though, she paused. Ah, right, where were her manners...
"Yu..."

However, it seemed they weren't much interested, and she supposed they must have gone through this more than once.
Well...

She tucked the phone she had in her hand into her pocket and ventured outside.

[ Exit ]

[ REHAB CENTER ]

His blatant phrasing made her lips start to twitch upward despite the situation. "Could be the system was not intended to be used so soon, though I would assume they would tell us such a thing if that were the case." Unless the information was posted elsewhere, which caused her to look back to the table to see if any notice was there, or anything along the walls. Nope. Outside the room then? A possibility. She was still holding onto the idea that this wasn't some intentional screw up.

As he began to stretch and unfurl his wings, she watched with unabashed interest. No wings herself, she always found the freedom of flight to be a romantic allure. And rather useful in combat, surely. "We're narrowing down our apparent options at least. Your wings are lovely, by the way, brilliant color." Kara offered him a friendly smile--she wasn't flirting, just stating a personal observation.

"Or more people could be up in their rooms or in the common areas," she pointed out, a small chuckle coming from her. No, it was very clear he wasn't fond of Dorothy, and she found it amusing--and, in counter, the urge to defend the AI. "We might fair better to check elsewhere, or even check out the reception area to see if there's any signs or notifications about what was going on."

[ REHAB CENTER ]

Needless to say, the compliment to his wings was quite readily taken. In fact, in a show of unnecessary ego, Yildirim did a bit of a twirl in the air, making sure his wings were fully unfurled so the Death Horsewoman could get a full look at them. The speckles danced a bit under the lighting. "Thank you! I'd say the wings are one of the best parts of being of War, myself. I'm glad you like them."

He couldn't resist bragging about being in War just a little bit, though he knew each of the Clans had pride in their own Clan. It wasn't like he was an exception to that rule. He might have been an exception in how proud he was of himself in that clan, but that wasn't something he was entirely aware of.

Coming back into The Dusk and away from the clouds somewhere, Yildirim nodded, motioning towards the exit. "Yeah, probably. I can't imagine just continuing to stand in this bright room is going to get us anywhere." While he still sounded a bit miffed, probably mostly at the AI that the horsewoman was attempting to defend, he seemed a bit calmer since he had gotten his feet off the ground and since he had been complimented. "I feel like I need some sunglasses from the humans. Why is it so bright in here, anyway?"

He rubbed at an eye.

"Honestly can't imagine anyone would want to stay in here, anyway. Just some bright rooms and surveys and leftover War javelins. Probably will fare a bit better if we leave."

He paused. "Just realized I haven't even introduced myself." Whoops. "I'm Yildirim, by the way. War clan, but I'm pretty sure that much is obvious. You're death, right?" He laughed.

[Rehab Center]

Cor nearly jumped clear of his skin at the sudden touch and spun around to see... his. He moved to embrace Noah rather tightly to his chest, crooning affectionately. Relaxing physically, even. But only for the moment. Dionaea... Dionaea... Dio... Ditty.

He immediately perked up and took Noah's hand slightly too firmly before arching up to his full height and scanning the immediate area. Noah may not have been worried, but Cor was about to steamroll this entire crowd in search of his itty-bitty-ditty. That was until he felt teeny tiny fingers forcefully snake their way into his other hand followed by a tiny little yawn.

"There you are," came a tiny mousy squeak of a voice. Soothing in its familiarity, Cor's posture melted immediately and he hunkered down to scoop up the - indeed rather tiny - famine horse-pony with his arm and held her up against his chest where she yawned again and rested her cheek against him. She was carrying a lumpy plush creature with her, it was clear it was made by someone who may not have been entirely sure what they were trying to make, let alone how to make it. The point was that they tried and Dionaea treasured the results.

Cor looked at Noah, hand still clutching his as he asked, "is that all of them?" Just to be sure, you never knew.

[ rehab center ]

As much as he hoped intently staring at the article in the window would gain some answers to how whom ever threw it had managed its feat, Meelo didn't receive anything. Even giving it a slight pull didn't let it budge, it didn't upset its situation in the slightest. He sighed, defeated. A shame really, it would have been a really cool thing to figure out.

Backing away and one last glance, the War clansman retreated towards the door he has scoped out earlier. There didn't seem much more here to sort out despite the type of room it was and the building that held it; and the Famine sages in their coats possibly having a little more than they let on (again, probably). Maybe being on more familiar and comfortable ground would set things would clear his head; even if it was more wrapped around a window than the mystery of missing memories.

[exit]