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 Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 4:30 pm
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Chel was feeling incredibly nervous now. She was right smack dab in the center of Amityville High School, surrounded by plenty of people she was sure wanted to rip her guts right out of her body. Well, as a hunter anyway. Being a demon, she wasn't given more than a glance or two as she walked down the halls. It was odd, really, being back in high school. This set of halloween creatures was a lot more humanoid- much more similar to the ones she saw on the battlefield. It made her nervous, on edge seeing so many people who could rip her into shreds in seconds.
< Stay calm. Your internal features are displayed upon your exterior orifices. >
Greeeat pep talk Tensy.
She rolled into the room she'd been given by the front office, a small side room with a small table, small chairs and small windows. Well this was less than ideal. Then again, she couldn't be a beggar since when asked for her credentials, she very clearly did not have any.
Her first volunteer was a girl named Sorcha. Nice enough name, she supposed. Now was she supposed to call this girl or howl at the moon or ....
Quote: just to provide some ic context; Sorcha has been asked by a -random npc teacher- to provide an interview for a local newspaper. She will get extra credit from -random npc teacher- if she participates! This is merely ic flavor, not any sort of ooc reward.
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Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 5:03 pm
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What a dreary room, nearly empty and barren of anything that might make it at all welcoming. The small amount of light the dirty windows let in was almost a tease and did nearly nothing to brighten the room. And the dust! It was as if whoever did the cleaning around here had deliberately forgotten about it, just to see if the dust might one day take over. It hadn't yet, but the day was quite obviously near.
Maybe Sorcha was in the wrong place--yes, perhaps that was it, and obviously the boil sitting in the too-small chair was doing some sort of study on the reproduction habits of dustbunnies, because why else would he be here? Perhaps he was lost, or perhaps he was just very boring, because only boring people would dedicate their lives so very fully to dust.
"Hello," she said, taking pity on the very boring boil, pausing at the outer threshold of the room and not one inch closer. "I am looking for the extra credit. Would you happen to know where that is? They haven't labeled the doors down here, you see--how inconvenient--and I'm quite certain I'm not in the right place, but I don't know where the right place is."
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Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 5:07 pm
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Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 7:11 pm
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"Is that really necessary?" Sorcha asked, her ears drooping in dismay. "I don't mind shouting, you know, though it does make quite a lot of noise, and it's very rude to shout unless you are doing so to someone who is very far away, and I am not that far away, and I suppose it's alright to shout at people who are rude. I can hear you just fine, but you are also not quite so gifted as I am in the ear department. Do creeple not have rabbit ears where you come from, either? Where do you come from, that no one has legs or ears?"
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Posted: Wed Jun 25, 2014 9:55 am
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evan absolutely had a point yes good thank you
"Oh, a newspaper, how exciting!" Sorcha didn't care much about the news, as it changed all of the time and was therefore difficult to stay up to date with. Maybe if it stayed in one place for awhile, to give her a chance to catch up--but such was not the nature of news, and so Sorcha's interest was limited. "Well," she started, "my name is Sorcha Mac Brádaigh, and I am a first year student at Amityville, and I come from a town that is probably larger than yours, as many people I know have goat feet, among other such useful and attractive appendages. Not that yours are less useful or attractive, of course. I'm sure there are a lot of ghouls who like oversized horns but, if I may say, you're never going to find one if you're sitting here in the dust and the dirt, you know."
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Posted: Wed Jun 25, 2014 11:52 am
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Sorcha smiled demurely even as her ears twitched and swiveled to face forward. This boil certainly had her full attention now. Her eyes flicked over him with the assessing gaze of a connoisseur, though she was hardly as well versed in other creeple as she was in shiny things. "Yes," she said, finding him lacking, but not completely without potential. "Well."
He lost some of her interest as he started talking about current events, but she was familiar--only just--with the horsemen. "I know they've set up camp next to the school. They wander onto the grounds occasionally, but never stay long. I took a class with some of them once, you know--basket weaving." "Many of the older ponies seemed very interested in these baskets. They make such wonderful decorations and are actually very useful," Sorcha explained, as if her passing experience with them made her some kind of expert.
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