Juuzou Suzuya (Tokyo Ghoul) L Lawliet (Death Note) Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock) Rue (Hunger Games Kelsier (Mistborn) Ronan (The Raven Cycle) John Reese (Person of Interest) Harold Finch (Person of Interest) Nesrin (OC) Masami Iwasawa (Angel Beats) Nicholas Rush (Stargate Universe) Elim Garak (Deep Space Nine) Scope (Rat Runners) Aled Last (Radio Silence) Pierre Chernova (OC) Izaya Orihara (Durarara)
Crutchie Morris (Newsies) Nico di Angelo (PJO) Noah Czerny (TRC) Will Byers (ST) Orpheus (Hadestown) Jesse Tuck (TE) Combeferre (Les Mis) Klaus Baudelaire (ASoUE) Steve Rogers (MCU) Kell Maresh (ADSoM) Newt (The Maze Runner) Raisa ana’Marianna (The Demon King) Merlin (Merlin) Basilton Grimm-Pitch (Carry On) Terait (Elliot Ventris) (OC) Crowley (Good Omens)
Mintedstar (Socks)'s Characters:
Myrnin (Morganville Vampires) Samuel (Morganville/DW OC) Arthur Dee (Historical fellow, probably the ghost version) Macon Ravenwood (Beautiful Creatures) Milton Blackwell (Dead City) Samuel Vimes (Discworld) Percival (OC) Dr. Strange (Movie? 1602?) Bari (Welcome to Night Vale Oc) Ian (Welcome to Night Vale Oc) Perhaps? Luke/Loki (Eight Days of Luke) Aziraphale (Good Omens) The Doctor (Doctor Who) Kid (Magic Kaito 1412) Silas (Graveyard Book) Perhaps? Alucard/Adrian (Castlevania)
Current characters-- Macon Ravenwood (Beautiful Creatures) Orpheus (Hadestown) Pierre Chernova (OC)
Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 20, 2019 21:37:00 GMT -5
Walking. It was the first thing that Macon Ravenwood was aware of. It seemed the first thing he could remember doing. The man stopped, the dirt under his feet the first thing that he looked at. Then he tried to think at all. Macon Ravenwood. It was the only thing that came to his mind. It was the only words that his mind grasped for when he tried to find them. The rest of it was like a blank sheet of paper. A hand went to his head and the man hunched a bit, the bridge of his nose pressed into the palm of his hand. There wasn't anything he could focus on other then probing his own mind for what he could almost tell he was missing. He slowly turned in a circle, the one uncovered eye looking at the surrounding area. Behind him, there was just a road - dirt - leading away into the distance. It wasn't even an impressive distance. There was just the dirt that made up the road, bridged by grass that extended to the left and right, and no sign of a sign or an indication of where he had been walking from. He turned again. Ahead of him, there was a different vista. There wasn't just grass, though that came up pretty close to the buildings. Instead, there was a destination. So, thought Macon, the words feeling empty in his head as they rattled in there all alone. I was heading somewhere. But he wasn't sure why. Once again, he pressed a hand to his head. Then he blinked. That was an idea. He took his hand away from his head and started examining himself. Maybe there was a note? Something to tell him who or where he had come from? He was wearing a suit. And he was at least pleased that he knew what a suit was. But there was nothing in the pockets other than a handkerchief. No pictures, no written records, nothing. There were no defining features on his hands or arms that he could finds. No way to tell if there was a tattoo or anything like someone else's name that might have been at all helpful. All he knew was his own name. Great. So, the only option was the town, unless he wanted to try walking back the way he had come. That seemed like a bad idea without knowing where he was going. Maybe, if there was someone in the town, he might find answers. Seemed the most logical thing he could come up with. Macon stepped forward, then continued toward the buildings. While he did, his eyes took in the other details. It was dark, but not pitch black. Night, but not that deep into it. None of the lights were on in the town, at least not that he could see. But he couldn't see very many details anyway. So he couldn't be sure if there were people there or if they were just all asleep. "Hello?" he tried. Then he flinched a bit at the sound of his own voice. He knew that worked then. He just wasn't sure what it might attract. The first couple buildings he passed didn't even have doors. He checked, but they were missing from their frames. The inside smelled unlived in and dusty. He kept moving. One hand brushed against a wall as he went, but there was very little to see. He seemed to be the only one here ...
One step, then another step, a solid rhythm that rocked through Orpheus’ entire body as he slowly became aware of himself. It seemed he had been walking for a while, based on the trail of footprints behind him, but he couldn’t recall where he had come from, or where he was going. The only sense of self he had was in the form of a name that seemed almost to be whispered to him by whatever memories were fleeing his head when he grasped towards them. Orpheus. Just one word, no last name, but it fit. It felt right and Orpheus wasn’t going to argue with that feeling when he had nothing else to go on. One step in front of the other, towards the town that lay in front of him, because where else would he go? It wasn’t like he could retrace his footsteps, especially since he couldn’t even remember making most of them. Besides, a town meant people, and he had a feeling that if there were people, they might be able to help. Or at least be someone to talk to. Was Orpheus lonely? Had he even been conscious of himself long enough to be able to feel loneliness? It was an odd question to contemplate. He must have existed before he started walking, if he remembered how humans worked, but then again… he could recall in concept what a human was, but had he ever met any? No names came to mind. The town got nearer and nearer as Orpheus kept on walking forward, letting the rhythm of his feet drive him. Distantly, he was aware that this was a chance to learn who he was. If he had even been someone before, and he wasn’t sure he had, he could learn who he was now. He could create who he was now. The thought would have been a lot more exciting if he weren’t worried about making it to the town and finding something to drink. And getting out of the open before something less pleasant found him and decided he would be a good midnight snack. So he kept forward with the same dogged persistence he had felt when he first became aware that he was walking. Quietly, he began to hum, not even really aware that he was doing it. It passed the time, and when his throat became too dry to keep going, he swallowed, his throat tightening against whatever was around his neck. He felt at it, glancing down to see the edges of a bandana. What was that for? He supposed if there was a dust storm it might be good to breathe into, but there was no breeze this evening. He wouldn’t have to worry about that now. At least it was a clue about where he came from. He still didn’t realize he had been humming. The town was close enough now that it occupied all of Orpheus’ thoughts. It looked… empty. No lights were on, and there were no people milling in the streets or standing around by the edge of town. At least not that Orpheus could see. It was like it was abandoned, which didn’t really make a lot of sense to Orpheus. It was the only thing around for miles, he couldn’t be the only one here, right? It was possible that everyone had already gone to bed, but based on a cursory glance towards the sky, it didn’t seem dark enough for that to make sense yet. Orpheus’ gaze caught on the stars, looking to find patterns. He didn’t know what he was looking for – it wasn’t like he would remember constellations well enough to know if these were the same ones. Nonetheless, the fact that there were stars made him feel just a little bit safer. A little more like he wasn’t alone. And then, from nearer to the center of town, he heard it. A voice. Eyes wide, Orpheus scrambled towards it, hope widening his dark eyes. “Hello?” He responded, not caring how loud he was. He almost yelped at the sound of his own voice, though. It was so much higher than he had expected it to be, but he supposed he didn’t really mind. As long as it was audible to whoever had spoken. And someone had spoken! It meant someone was here, in this place with the torn open doors and the feeling that nobody had been here in a very long time. Any sign of life was palatable to Orpheus.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 23, 2019 11:18:03 GMT -5
One. Two. Three. Four. This counting was the very first thing the thirteen year old boy was aware of, and as he became aware that he was aware, he realized that that was because he was moving. Walking, he was walking, because he had legs, which wasn’t a surprise so much as new information. He searched around his head for something else, and come up with nothing but two words stuck together, Pierre Chernova. A name. His name. There was a lot of information trapped in a name, wasn’t there? He knew it was his and not someone else’s because he just knew, the same way he just knew that if he tried to speak his brain would remember how, and that he was supposed to have two legs and two arms and it was a good thing he did. What a strange thought that was. He forced himself to stop walking. It wasn’t easy, perhaps he’d been doing it for so long that his body didn’t really remember how to do anything else. Or perhaps the connection between his brain and his legs wasn’t quite up to date. Either way, he did manage to bring himself to a halt, and as he did he turned and looked behind him. Nothing. Nothing but his footsteps, leading back farther than he could see in a perfectly straight line. He blinked, perplexed by that somehow more than he had been when he first became aware of himself, and turned back to the way he’d been facing before. There was a town there. It wasn’t close, but it wasn’t exactly far either, and he thought he could make it there if he tried. He slowly realized that he was tired, but he pushed that thought away, because it wasn’t helpful. Of course he was tired, how long had he been walking before he’d become aware of it? “Pierre Chernova.” He said out loud, testing his voice. It was significantly higher than he’d expected it to be, and he almost flinched at the shock of hearing it, but he held himself steady and waited for something to happen. Nothing happened. He licked his lips, thoroughly unsettled. Maybe there was something more at the town. Maybe there would be answers there, or at least...something. He turned and began to walk faster, towards the buildings in the distance. He was thinking as he walked. Why couldn’t he remember anything? Why was he here, in the middle of nowhere? How old was he? He didn’t feel that young, but then again he probably wouldn’t. He wanted answers, more than he wanted anything else. Who was he? The town was close enough for him to see it better now, and he stopped and stared. The houses he could see didn’t have doors. Some didn’t even have frames. It was too dark out to see many details - oh, was it night? He realized he was probably late evening - but he could see that the place looked abandoned. He walked slower now, tiptoeing like he didn’t want to wake the ghosts he could almost feel, and stopped again right at the edge of the town. If ever a place had felt haunted. He peered around, wide-eyed, at the old homes. The dusty dirt roads. The....lack. It was so dead he felt unwelcome being alive, like if he stayed too long he’d become just another ghost. He swallowed, licked his lips...and headed in. What else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t better inside the abandoned town. In fact, it was worse. He was being quiet still, and he found his eye taking in the dust like it was an antique painting. He sketched out the shadows in his head, stopping at the least aesthetically pleasing buildings to try and imagine what they were like when they were new. He probably could have gone on like that for quite a while if he hadn’t heard the echo of a human voice. He didn’t move. How first idea was that there really were ghosts, but he shook that thought away as best he could, because so what if it was? He still had to go see. And if he died, at least he had a place that seemed to welcome the dead. He considered calling out, but decided against it. Instead, he moved softly towards the two hello?s, and stopped when he saw the first shadow of another human. Did ghosts have shadows? He didn’t know. Maybe he was a ghost....
Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 23, 2019 19:10:36 GMT -5
Macon took a step back, the dark outlines of the others clearer to him than they would be (perspectivally) to the two others. But he wasn't aware of that, or even thought of it. Instead, however, he tensed. All he heard was the hello, and he could vaguely smell something on the wind but wasn't able to identify it. "Hello," he said, slowly. "Does not exactly tell me much." He wasn't able to keep the slight flicker of a smile off of his lips. He wasn't completely sure why, but he felt like he wasn't in any danger. Yet. And if he was, then he wasn't going to be worried about that either. He looked Orpheus over. He knew the other person was in the shadows, but for the time being he was focusing on the man in front of him. Younger than him, Macon assumed. He couldn't help glancing down at his hand again, as if checking that everything was still the same as it had been before. Only then he completely focus on Orpheus. He had no idea who he was, and he wasn't really pleased that he might become vulnerable by admitting he was without his memories. He hummed a very low note, then waved a hand around at the town. "I take it you don't live here?" It was rather obvious from how Orpheus was looking around. Maybe their friend in the shadows was a different story. "I'm…" started Macon, unsure how to phrase a sentence which wouldn't at once give away that he didn't have any memories while also fishing for information on whether or not Orpheus knew who he was. And their friend in the shadows. "I'm looking for someone," he lied. "But I wouldn't think anyone actually lives here." This place was desolate in the current lighting. Not completely destroyed or overtaken by nature … but more like a ghost town. One where the shadows ate you alive. "Come out," said Macon, tired of the other person already. "It will be easier on everyone if you come out."
Orpheus started as the voice he had heard came into view. He didn’t know what he had expected. Another person, perhaps, but for some reason he hadn’t expected it to be a person that looked like Macon. He didn’t know for sure that anything he knew was true, though, and he didn’t know what he looked like, so maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised by Macon. Either way, he didn’t think that the man in front of him was being exactly honest. There had been a moment of hesitation before he had asked his question, as though he had been about to say something else and then decided better against it. Nonetheless, Orpheus didn’t feel too scared. If Macon were really a threat, he wouldn’t have been so quick to call out and alert others about his presence. The young man hadn’t been aware of the third person lurking in the shadows, however. He frowned as Macon addressed them, squinting as though he could make out the form, when really he couldn’t quite. Was that person a threat? Macon didn’t seem to think so, and Orpheus saw no reason to distrust him as of yet. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could trust himself. It wasn’t as though he were a valid source of information, what with the ‘not knowing anything except his name and maybe a few vital pieces of information’ thing. “No,” he agreed softly, his voice still sounding quite strange to him. “No, I don’t believe anyone lives here. If you’re looking for someone, and it’s not one of us, then they’re probably long gone.” Orpheus hoped that answer didn’t prompt the man in front of him to start asking questions. Orpheus knew for sure he wouldn’t be able to answer them, but that didn’t mean the others here knew it either. “I’m Orpheus, by the way,” he offered, a small smile on his lips. He was awfully quick to share the only part of himself that he had ownership of, and he seemed to think nothing of it. What could be the harm anyway? It wasn’t as though he knew for sure that it was the name he had held before he had found himself wandering that road. He could easily have been given an alias, or it could be his real name. But whoever Orpheus had been before, he was gone now. “I’ve never been here before, I don’t think.” He met Macon’s gaze for just a moment, unsure if he was doing the right thing by speaking, by letting himself be known, by opening himself up in a world that was empty and cold and so lacking in anything that felt even vaguely human. It was so silent it almost hurt, and Orpheus wanted to break the silence. How, though? His voice seemed to be naturally quiet, and even if he could fill the town with sound, he didn’t think the two others that had ended up here would welcome that. “You don’t have to be afraid, if you are. Of me, I mean,” he told the figure that was still lurking in the shadows. He didn’t get the feeling that either of the people here were afraid of him. It wasn’t like he was intimidating, based on first impressions of himself. Would it be worth it to try to chance that? Orpheus, for whatever reason, found the idea repulsive.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 23, 2019 23:46:30 GMT -5
Pierre listened to the two of them talk from his place in the shadows. He wanted to get close enough to see, but not close enough to be seen, and that was...not easy. He wasn’t at all confident in his ability to stay hidden. So he didn’t go any closer. It was probably best to stay as far back as he could without losing track of where the others were completely. Was he being overly cautious? Under the circumstances, he doubted that was much of a possibility. Orpheus. One of them was called Orpheus. That told him exactly nothing about the older person, but he stored it away anyway, because it was information and he desperately needed something to put in his head. Something more than this dead, dead buildings, anyway, He winced as he was called out. So he wasn’t stealthy. That was good to know. A tiny sigh escaped him and he hesitated, shifting his weight back and forth, before he finally forced himself towards the other two. He wished he was armed. He really really wished he was armed. Both of the other people were taller than him, and he got the impression they were significantly older too, although he had no idea how old he was. Not knowing anything about yourself was a very lonely, terrifying feeling. It was like having no name, or being in a dream where you were more alone than you ever got to be in your waking life. He hesitated to say “real”, because he got the impression real was not a thing he had any right to be talking about at the moment. Was this real? “I’m not afraid.” He replied, but the tremble in his voice betrayed him. Frustrated, he cleared his throat and tried again, this time directing his words towards the stranger he didn’t yet have a title for. “Who are you looking for? Maybe I’ve seen them.” That was a lie. If he had seen anyone, he wouldn’t remember it. But that seemed like the kind of thing you didn’t want to tell someone you’d just met and didn’t trust. At all. Pierre’s blue eyes moved between the other two, quickly taking in their appearances now that he was close enough to see them properly. Nothing stood out to him, because nothing was familiar or unfamiliar. He stored the information anyway.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 24, 2019 6:07:14 GMT -5
Much like Pierre, Macon was taking everything in like a sponge desperately trying to sop up water. There wasn't enough information and all three of them were dancing around each other throughout the whole conversation, so even Macon wasn't certain if he was being lied to or not. He could hear heartbeats, and something told him the small interruptions in their beats meant lying, but he wasn't sure. How could he really even be sure about assumptions when he wasn't even sure about facts. "Nice to meet you," he said, words almost curtly delivered to Orpheus in favor of paying more attention to Pierre. He didn't like him. Most of the reasons Macon could find for not liking him was because he'd asked a question he didn't know the answer to. "Here?" he questioned instead. "There's no-one here but you two." If they were the only two here, that was. At least Pierre's answer proved that Macon wasn't looking for him and Orpheus' lack of answer proved the same. Macon had decided he was looking for someone. Whoever knew anything about him, that was who. Pierre's question hovered. "No idea," Macon said languidly after a second. His voice had dropped into a lower pitch, as if that made him sound calmer. It at least made his face seem more so. "I don't think this is the town I'm looking for." How could it be with no people in it. "Macon Ravenwood," he finally added. "My name." Then he added, because honestly how could he be sure? "What I'm called." That at least could be true for now. "And you," he said, body dipping a little as he indicated Pierre. "What's your name?" He looked at Orpheus then, doing exactly what the man hadn't wanted to do. "And how long ago would 'long gone' be? As in ... could I catch up with anyone?" If he just had some idea where he was from or wherever he was going then maybe someone could take it the rest of the way.
Orpheus looked between the two, shock covering his features for just a moment when he realized how young Pierre was. Orpheus got the distinct impression he wanted to protect him, but protect him from what? He had no confirmation that there was any tangible threat where they were, and he also had no idea if he would be good at fighting at all. He liked to think he would be, in an emergency, but he couldn’t know that. He couldn’t know anything about how he would react until it happened, because it was like he was meeting himself for the first time. It was like he had to learn to trust himself, learn to see how he reacted just he same as he would need to learn about anyone else. But the good news was, that meant he knew about as much about these people as he knew about himself, so it would be easy to trust them at first, at least. At least until he learned who he was and learned who they were and learned for sure who was worthy of being trusted and who was best left alone. He didn’t want to make any enemies before he was sure about that, at least. “Nice to meet you, Macon,” Orpheus returned quietly. He could tell there was some kind of tension between the two people here, but he didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t tell what they were thinking, and it didn’t even cross his mind that Pierre was lying about possibly having seen people, or that Macon didn’t have a concrete view of who he was looking for. It did, however, feel odd to be exchanging pleasantries in the middle of an abandoned city, when none of them except maybe Pierre seemed to know where they were. He tensed as Macon turned the question on him. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice faltering. There was something terrifying about the idea of either of these two knowing he didn’t remember anything but his name. “I’ve never been here before,” he repeated, as though that was a good enough explanation. He was already getting the hint that maybe talking to people had never been his strong suit. There were things he wanted to do and say and fix, but he couldn’t put the words to anything. And the thing was, he didn’t know how to be anything less than genuine, so he was terribly outmatched in this conversation full of lies – lies and half-truths that Orpheus didn’t even recognize for what they were. Orpheus was… honestly okay with not having answers right away. He just wanted to find somewhere warm where they may be able to start making food and a warm fire around which to just sit and talk. Neither of these people really seemed the sit-and-talk type, but what right did Orpheus have to be making judgements like that. He kept tapping lightly on his pant leg, fingers curling in odd ways that he didn’t even notice. He just knew that with ever tap it was like he could breathe a little easier, even if he didn’t realize what he was doing. If asked to recreate the hand positions he wouldn’t have been able to – purely subconscious muscle memory from his years of playing an instrument he wouldn’t even have been able to name on sight now.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 24, 2019 17:38:35 GMT -5
Pierre didn’t answer right away. He was thinking, his eyes darting back and forth between the two older people as he tried to read them. He got the distinct impression that Macon was lying about something, and that Orpheus was not. He didn’t know why he thought that, or what to do with it, but he did angle his body slightly so that he could run if either of them tried anything. Trust issues? He thought he had a decent excuse for it at the moment. Should he give his name? For some reason, the idea was terrifying. Maybe it was because it would be giving away the only thing he knew about himself, the only thing he had to cling onto his identity with. Assuming it was even the name he’d originally had, of course. That sent a shiver down his spine, because what if it wasn’t? What if the only thing he had in his head was a lie? He didn’t know how to deal with that at all. But if it wasn’t real. Then what was the harm in giving it away? He looked at Macon, assessing the other man carefully. The other two strangers had given their names apparently freely. Did that mean they had their memories? He was overthinking this. The best thing to do was pretend he was fine, act natural, and look for an opportunity to figure out some answers. “Pierre Chernova.” He said as boldly as he could, dipping his head to Macon in acknowledgment? He didn’t smile, but he didn’t exactly not smile either. His expression was guarded, but fairly neutral. These weren’t his enemies yet. “I’ve never been here before, either.” He added, Orpheus’s confession giving him some encouragement. Maybe they didn’t know what was going on either, after all. He wanted to believe that, but he didn’t want to believe it without a good reason. For now, he knew nothing at all, not even whether he had a real name before he was given “Pierre”, so he would assume nothing. For now, he just wanted to find somewhere safe, whatever that meant. He sighed, deflating slightl. Someone had to ask the obvious question here. He didn’t want it to be him, but he didn’t want it pointed at him either, and he could tell someone was going to ask it sooner or later. Why not him? “Where are you guys from?” He asked, them took a quick step back, as though he expected them to attack him for it. Even he wasn’t sure what reaction he expected. Just that the air was tense enough to be cut and he wanted it to stop.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 25, 2019 15:15:20 GMT -5
Well … that was the question. The one that Macon didn't have an answer to. He might have been just slightly annoyed for the asking. Pierre had a look in his eyes which Macon felt summed up his own feelings on the matter. Too much of this was uncertainty. His own memories were missing and they didn't seem to be coming back. Apart from his name there was nothing in his head to suggest he had every existed past this moment. Maybe he hadn't. But would he ever know without answers? No! But he wasn't going to get answers without giving a few of his own. Pity he didn't have any. And dodging around the situation made all of this seem worse somehow. "I don't know," Macon gritted out though his teeth. There was a noticeable different light in his eyes now. It was dangerous. Not as if he was about to attack, but like he really wanted Pierre to shut up about it. But, much like Orpheus, Macon was considering whether or not he could win in a fight. He thought he could, though he supposed he might have a disadvantage with both Pierre and Orpheus being a bit younger than him. He thought. He wasn't actually sure. He hadn't actually looked in a mirror. Maybe he was younger than he was thinking. But that aside, he was fairly sure that not remembering would hinder a fight just a bit. That was an assumption on his part. Either way, admitting he didn't know something felt risky. But he did it anyway, because Pierre and Orpheus weren't telling him anything. They would find out on their own if he wasn't careful. Macon was already tired of being careful. "I have no memory of where I am or where I come from." The words hung in the air like spiderwebs, ready to ensnare or rip at a moment of acknowledgement. Macon might not have been preparing to fight, but he was still tense as if he thought Orpheus or Pierre would jump him. Both of the man's eyes roved over the small collection of people. There wasn't, as far as he knew, any positive to this. These two might know far more about the current situation than him. Macon wasn't above asking for help, but he was above asking when he had no ground to stand on. "What do both of you know?" he tried, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't trying to be hostile, but he was a bit testy over the whole situation.
Orpheus looked almost taken aback by Pierre’s question. It wasn’t that he was offended or anything, it was just that… well, he hadn’t been expected to have been asked that question. It hit home in the worst way possible, the knowledge that at one point he had probably had an answer, but he wasn’t from anywhere anymore. At least not that he could remember. He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to put any burden on these people if they found out they were dealing with someone who didn’t remember anything about who they were or where they were from or what they were doing here. The last thing Orpheus wanted to do was place any strain on these strangers, because that would ruin his chance to make a good first impression. It would certainly ruin any chances of getting information if they thought he was a burden from the outset. He was fishing around for an adequate answer when Macon’s words cut him to the core. I don’t know. Simple enough words, but not in regards to that question, not to something you were supposed to know. Orpheus waited for the other shoe to drop – maybe Macon was just accustomed to moving around a lot and therefore didn’t have a place that he considered himself “from.” There could be any number of possible explanations, it wasn’t right to assume they were in the same boat. Until he heard what else Macon had to say. “I don’t know anything,” he whispered, voice soft and light, floating in the air like a bubble just waiting to be popped. He glanced between Pierre and Macon. “Other than my name, I mean. I know that, and I know that this is a town that seems to be abandoned, and that whoever I was before, I was heading here. For some reason.” Was that even an assumption that could be made? Whatever had caused him to lose his memory may have set him on a track he would never have taken of his own volition. He had no reason to believe that the Orpheus from before would ever have ended up here. “I’m sorry I can’t be much more help.” It was disappointing, sure, that Macon couldn’t give him all the answers, but part of Orpheus didn’t care. It meant he wasn’t alone in what he was experiencing, it meant that they were on even ground and they could figure this out together. It also meant that what had happened to him probably wasn’t just a freak accident or a fluke or anything lik that. If there were two people with no memory in the same place, then there could be no coincidence. Right? Orpheus realized he had no idea whether this was normal or not, but he did have a feeling that humans weren’t supposed to just lose their memory and wind up in abandoned towns. Of course, he had no proof of that – it could have been incredibly common for all he was aware. It wasn’t until then that Macon’s tone registered. Orpheus was beginning to realize he may not be the best at reading people’s tones. He took a step back, hoping that Macon wasn’t about to attack. While Orpheus had been rejoicing in the fact that he wasn’t alone in whatever they were dealing with, Macon seemed to be preparing to either attack or defend – and Orpheus wasn’t sure which one.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 26, 2019 17:29:14 GMT -5
Pierre watched the varying degrees of surprise wash over the other two’s faces, not relaxing even when they failed to attack him. He didn’t trust either of them, and he knew they didn’t trust him either. He didn’t take that personally, of course, but it was unsettling all the same. The truth was, he had expected them to do something, and their lack of reaction threw him off. If he couldn’t predict their movements, he couldn’t hope to figure them out before they tried something on him. And they would, wouldn’t they? Maybe he was being paranoid. It was hard not to be, when you had nothing to go off of. No memory of how things were supposed to be. He considered taking another step back, widening the distance a little more, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to come off as weak. Then he heard their words, and he went very, very still. They...didn’t know? They didn’t know either? He blinked, piercing blue eyes stabbing into first Orpheus’s eyes, then Macon’s as he tried to find any hint that they were lying. Not that he would have been able to tell, really, but maybe there was some instinct he still had that would tell him. Then again, probably not. He licked his lips, completely wrong-footed now. He knew he probably should have seen this coming, but he hadn’t, and now he was stuck wondering whether to give away his cards or not. “I don’t know anything either.” He admitted finally. The energy left his body in an instant, and suddenly he looked younger, less...capable. More thirteen. He almost laughed at Orpheus’s apology. “We’re not very helpful either.” He pointed out, shaking his head. He could tell Macon was very tense, but he didn’t think he’d just attack, and if he did, well. Freaking out wouldn’t help. Running probably wouldn’t either, considering the fact that Pierre suspected he was a bit younger than the other two, based on his voice and what his hands looked like. Was that weird, trying to tell your age by your hands? If it was, he didn’t have another choice, so he supposed it didn’t matter much. “I lied.” He told Macon, hoping that it wouldn’t make the other man even more tense. Hoping it would help. “About the other people. I don’t remember whether I saw anyone. And you lied too, when you said you were looking for someone. Didn’t you?” He glanced at Orpheus for backup. “What’s the last thing you guys remember? I was walking towards this town, but I don’t know where I came from. All I know is a name. I don’t even know if it’s mine.” He blinked, and frowned. “And also how to speak, and what humans are. So I remember all the basics, but nothing specific about my life. That’s interesting. I bet there’s a reason for that.”
Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 27, 2019 3:11:58 GMT -5
It was as if the tension had drained out of Macon. The relief he felt that he wasn't alone was palpible. There wasn't a really clear sign from his face that this was the case, but the set of his shoulders seemed to ease a bit. If he was compared to the other two people in front of him then it would have been clear that he was far more capable of regulating the emotions which appeared on his face. That didn't mean he didn't have any. It just meant that he was more effective at keeping the same neutral expression on his face that he might have warn otherwise. He didn't know if that was normal for him. Or even if he had a normal. "Yes," Macon confirmed, not really apologizing so much as stating an unfortunate fact. "I was lying." Curiously, he looked at Pierre, his eyebrows arching just a bit more than usual to express the fact that he was doubtful. "I assume it is your name," Macon pointed out. "If you have no memory of who you were before coming here, then why not claim it as your own. At least until another outcome presents itself." It seemed like a logical conclusion, but it was also a way for Macon to stall. He wanted to wait a couple seconds to get his thoughts in order before he addressed Pierre's question. Then he said, "I was walking down a road, facing in this direction. When I looked back, there was nothing other than grass to see." His statement was almost soft and he looked over at Orpheus. Orpheus probably hadn't noticed he was fidgeting, but Macon had. He made a mental note of it but made no effort to call attention to the actions. "Interesting though," said Macon, turning his head so he could take in both Pierre and Orpheus at once. "What language are we speaking?" He knew the concept of language. The fact that creatures had different ways to communicate. He knew how humans communicated and that it varied. But he couldn't for the life of him remember what language was coming out of his mouth. He gestured at Orpheus. "What is your opinion on the matter?" He was quiet. Which usually meant someone was thinking. Macon wondered how he knew that. Did he have experience with thinkers? Or was it simply that he could tell that Orpheus had something about him that desired to be heard. "I don't suppose there is any sort of ..." Macon couldn't believe he was saying this word, though he didn't really know why it annoyed him. "Clue around this place." As it stood, it was getting colder as the sun set.
Orpheus looked between the two, still trying his best to understand the situation. He watched as relief settled over Macon’s features, and as Pierre called both himself and Macon out for lying. Orpheus’ brows creased, confused. He understood the instinct to lie to protect oneself, but he didn’t think Macon had any reason to. Pierre looked… well, Pierre looked young, and not particularly intimidating, and although Orpheus could tell he was tall – at least in comparison to Pierre – he didn’t think he was particularly intimidating either. Suddenly he wished he had a mirror so he could see what the other two were looking at. It was odd, he thought, inhabiting a body and not having a clue what it looked like. It seemed that they had both entered their new lives in much the same way Orpheus had. A trail of footprints leading behind and whatever this town was up ahead. Suddenly, the abandoned town around them felt a lot more sinister. What could be the purpose of leaving three people without memories and drawing them here? There had to be a reason, right? Things like this didn’t just… happen, did they? A sick feeling rose in Orpheus’ stomach, but he didn’t give voice to it. He looked around, trying to take everything in at once. “I got here the same as you both,” he replied, voice still quiet. He wished he had a way to beat back the dark and the cold, but he didn’t. They just had to deal with it. As it was, besides his memories he had a deep sense of something missing. Did the others feel the same thing or was it just him? His fingers continued to tap on his thigh, performing their strange dance without him realizing. It seemed like he was nervous, at least judging from the hand motions, but again he didn’t give voice to the thought. They had far more to deal with right now than him not being sure how to handle something he didn’t have. “I think…” he frowned, looking between the two. “Do we know we’re all speaking the same language? I don’t… I don’t know what normal is, but I don’t think people appearing in the middle of a town with no memories is normal, so maybe we’re from very different places. Maybe we don’t even speak the same language, we’re just able to understand each other for the same reason that we know our name, and the same reason we have a vague understanding of what humans are, and other important things. Because…” he frowned, squinting at his two companions for a moment. “I don’t think, if we were to be in a very large place with lots and lots of people, I don’t think any of us would have chosen to stop and speak to each other.” There was the age difference, at least. Although Orpheus couldn’t actually tell what age he was, he had a feeling he was in between the other two. And then there was the matter of what they were wearing. Macon seemed like he belonged to a very different type of person than either Orpheus or Pierre, and wouldn’t it make sense for people who were part of the same group to dress in a similar fashion? “Somehow the three of us ended up here. That’s quite a coincidence.”
Pierre nodded, neither surprised nor offended that Macon had indeed lied to his face. It wasn’t like they knew each other (anymore, anyway) and he’d done the same thing, hadn’t he? He had the impression lying wasn’t really socially acceptable, but neither was having no idea who you were. He didn’t feel like he had a lot of room to be indignant. Besides, he had other things to think about. The thirteen-year-old considered the other two, both of whom were quite a bit taller than he was. He wondered what they saw when they looked at him, what sort of impression they got of him, and whether it was right. His green eyes flicked between their faces, gauging their expressions as best he could with no idea what expressions meant. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had some instinctive knowledge of basic expressions, and he could tell that Macon especially was tense, although less so now it seemed. Pierre, too, was less tense now. It helped, apparently, knowing you weren’t lost alone. Knowing someone else was struggling along beside you, no idea which way was up. He shook his head. He needed answers, not companions. Where was here? Why were they in this abandoned town, with no memory of how they’d come to be there? It was frustrating, not being able to solve the mystery of your missing memories because you, well, lacked memory. He couldn’t remember what was normal or what to expect, anyone he knew who could have done this. It was maddening. “Because I don’t know if it was my name before.” He pointed out, slightly annoyed that this hadn’t been obvious to Macon. “I don’t like not knowing. It feels...like I don’t really have a name at all.” What a lonely concept, being nameless. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any this, but that....may have been one of the worst parts, if he was being honest. “I don’t think this is normal either.” He agreed, nodding at Orpheus, his dark brown curls bouncing with the movement. “We are communicating somehow, though, right? Unless only one of us is actually real, and the other two are just figments of their imagination. Maybe one of us is in a coma and dreaming the other two.” He was questioning everything now. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but he wasn’t sure it was exactly helpful right now. Then again, could he stop? Apparently not. He exhaled loudly. “Maybe we should explore.” He suggested. “At least figure out what ‘here’ is like. Maybe we’ll find more people like us along the way, or at least confirm that we’re probably the only ones here.” It seemed like a good first step, and Pierre didn’t want to stand around anymore. It was getting colder and darker, but instead of wanting to sleep, he felt very, very awake. Side effect of....whatever this was....maybe. Or maybe he was just a night person.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 28, 2019 20:30:42 GMT -5
The way that Orpheus judged the situation and the way that Pierre judged the situation were two different confusing ways that didn't completely register for Macon. But he did acknowledge them. How he acknowledged them was, "I think both of those thought processes are a bit too ... putting the cart before the horse, I believe is the term." He leaned a bit to the side. "In any case, I think one of us is having an existential crisis over this." He didn't look at Pierre. "I agree that exploring might be the best bet." It would at least put a stop to the boundless speculations. What next? Pierre suggesting that they hadn't even existed before the moment they'd appeared here? (What Macon would never admit was that a very distant part of his mind was going through the same scenarios in his head and none of them were causing him any peace of mind.) He nodded at Orpheus. "However ... you're right that this doesn't seem like chance. There's a bit too many layers for this to be some twist of the universe." He tapped his foot (maybe he was looking at Orpheus too much and picking it up). Then he nodded in a random direction. It was as good as any. This wasn't a very large town, at least not that he had seen on the way in. There had to be something here other than derelict houses. "I'm heading that way. You both are welcome to join me." He thought they probably would. There wasn't really a guide for any of this, so the fact that he could head off in a direction of his choice really meant nothing to him. He was curious though. Was one of them a leader? Was he? He didn't know, all he did know was that he had picked a direction to go more out of a need to actually move and do something than any desire to dictate where the two others went. If we all just ... ended up doing something, he wondered. Would we find out who we were. "You," he said, pointing over his shoulder at Pierre. "If you don't wish to be known as Pierre, then I would tell us." The older man arched an eyebrow. He was pretty sure he was smiling. He didn't really mind the existential crisis as much as he claimed. "I don't really care if you want to come up with your own name."
Orpheus looked between Pierre and Macon, trying to figure out what was going on in each of their heads. He had to admit that Pierre’s theory rang true with some of the thoughts that he wasn’t particularly keen on acknowledging. The ones that told him that even what little he thought he knew was a lie, he just needed to stop fooling himself. He shook his head to try to clear it. Orpheus was his name now, whether or not that had been the case before. He would be Orpheus until he learned otherwise, and if he got attached to the name he would continue to be Orpheus regardless. “We don’t have to be the people we were before,” he murmured, hoping that it was a gentle reminder to Pierre. “If we spend all of our time trying to be who we were before, we’re going to waste the time we have now. We might as well establish ourselves here as who we want to be, with no constraints on us based on who we were. It might not be the reason we’re here, but it might be nice to have a second chance. To make ourselves the way we wish to be instead of the way we were made beforehand, right?” Even if his two companions didn’t agree with him, Orpheus knew that dwelling too much on who he used to be would just cause more heartache than anything else. He wasn’t particularly inclined to worry about it when there were more important things they could be doing. Like figuring out what image they wanted to put out in the world, and who they wanted to be now that they had the chance to be anyone. Or perhaps Macon was right and they were both going a little too quickly. Perhaps the best immediate course of action would be to try to find somewhere safe to spend the night, as it was getting darker. Orpheus didn’t exactly feel tired, but he didn’t think he felt safe in the town with the sun going down so quickly. There was no guarantee that any of the streetlights would light up tonight, and he wasn’t keen on being trapped in pitch darkness. If they were to be stuck here awhile – and Orpheus was fine staying as long as he didn’t have anywhere better to go – they would have to find a way to make sure the streetlights worked and some of the doors in the abandoned houses closed. At least Orpheus hoped they were abandoned, because if they weren’t… he didn’t look forward to meeting anyone who willingly lived in a place like this. He could tell that the town, at one point, had probably been nice, but it must have been a very long time before. Orpheus tensed as Macon suggested that they follow him. Well… offered to allow them to. Of course he would be more comfortable if there were others with him walking around the place, but he didn’t feel particularly inclined to follow Macon around and let him choose where they went. “Maybe we should split up, to cover more ground,” he suggested with a small shrug. “We can have a signal to let the others know that we’re alright, or if we’ve found anything of import. The town seems small enough that we can probably get to each other if something happens, and I don’t want to have us still poking around by the time there’s no light left.” He didn’t think the others would necessarily consider his suggestion, but it was what made the most sense to him. He didn’t want to be poking around in the dark even with other people. There was too much that could catch them by surprise. As it was, the lengthening shadows of dusk were sending chills down his spine. He just wanted to know for sure that they were alone. Or he wanted to find someone friendly who would be able to help them out. And as great as it had been to realize that he wasn’t alone in what he was struggling with memory-wise, he didn’t think he wanted the find many other people in the same situation. Too many people that were lost and confused just seemed like a recipe for disaster.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Nov 30, 2019 16:09:45 GMT -5
Pierre frowned. He didn’t think he was just having an existential crisis, but maybe he was. It seemed a reasonable time for one, at any rate, under the circumstances (them having no memories, for example). Maybe that was why he felt so uncomfortable. He hated the idea that someone had done this to them, without their consent. And who would consent to this? He wouldn’t now, and he didn’t like to think he would have before. Maybe Macon was right, and he was just getting ahead of himself. He glanced at Orpheus, his green eyes softening a bit at the man’s words. Because maybe they didn’t have to be who they’d been before. Maybe they’d done something horrible, and this was their chance to start over. If that was the case, he didn’t want to mess this up, right? If this was a second chance, he wanted to take it and make it his own. That’s what really bothered him. The idea of his identity being stolen. The idea that he wasn’t him, or that the concept of who he was had been somehow broken. The young teen poked at the ground with his toes, absentmindedly digging a tiny hole as he considered what to say. “I think I’d like to name myself.” He decided finally, looking at Macon. “Then I’ll know exactly where the name came from, and that it’s not just a trick someone played on me. I want to call myself Skye.” He glanced between the two of them, half expecting them to tell him he couldn’t just change his name that easily. He was willing to defend his decision though, if he had to. He didn’t know these people, he didn’t know what to expect from them or how they’d react to him, and that made him want to be both very careful and very loudly himself, whatever that meant. Maybe he was just overcompensating for having no idea what he’d been doing for however long he’d existed for. He waited as the other two voiced their opinions about what they should do next, shifting uncomfortably as Orpheus suggested they split up. “I don’t think we should split up.” He said warily. “Just because the three of us seem friendly so far, doesn’t mean everyone’s going to be. We might not be as alone as we think. What if we were released out here to be hunted?” He shook his head, brown curls bouncing. “No. I think we should stick together and explore, and try to figure out whether we’re alone. That’s the most pressing thing.” He really wanted Orpheus to listen to him. He couldn’t help imagining finding the older man, dead in one of the abandoned buildings...or, perhaps worse, not finding him. Ever. “Please?” He added, eyes going round.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 30, 2019 20:46:02 GMT -5
Orpheus' idea was curious to Macon. But also very unsettling. Caught up in his own thoughts for a second and already several yards away from the other two, he paused. He looked down at his hand. Could there have been something bad in his past - something which he would want to forget. Without having the memories he would never know for sure, but he knew one thing ... as he was now, the idea that he was missing something was nearly nightmarish. He couldn't think about it, not without panicking just a little. He pushed the thought away, looking away from his hand, and said over his shoulder, "Skye it is." He blinked owlishly a couple times. "I will stick with Macon Ravenwood." He glanced at Orpheus, not because he was suggesting the man would want to change his name, but because he was about to comment on the rather nerve-wracking idea of splitting up. Then Skye voiced the same opinion that Macon had on the matter. "That," he said, nodding at the younger man. "Is exactly why I would find it rather distasteful to split up." He hadn't really thought too much about what might happen to him if they split up. He was only considering Orpheus and the much younger Skye. He didn't want them to be injured by anything outside their control. As it was ... he didn't think that he would be in any danger. Which was a thought that was odd in itself. What gave him the idea that he would be any more safe than Orpheus or Skye? "We can at least go in the same direction to start with," Macon said. "It is getting dark and it seems likely that there might be some issues from that we might want to avoid. At the very least the cold." He waved down the block. He could see fairly well in the dark, but didn't think much about it. "There are some houses down there that look like they might be in slightly better condition. One has a door, for starters." He turned away again, beginning to walk forward.
Orpheus glanced at Pierre, then at Macon. He wasn’t sure he wanted to take Macon’s lead, but he didn’t see any better options and it seemed as though Pierre wasn’t too keen on the idea of him going off alone. On any of them going off alone. He cast a worried glance at the sky, wondering how long it would be before it was too dark to see. He was familiar with time as a concept, but he wasn’t sure how to gauge what time it might be – or even the time of year – based on atmospheric light. Was that a normal skill that he was missing or just something that seemed like it would be a good idea to learn? It really was frustrating, how little he knew about himself. He had a feeling he wasn’t the only one with that exact same thought running through his head. Macon sure did a better job of hiding it than Pierre did, though. “It’s good to meet you, them, Skye,” Orpheus replied, smiling in a way that he hoped communicated that he didn’t mind whatever the boy wanted to call himself as long as he felt comfortable going by the name. For Orpheus’ part, he couldn’t imagine being anything but Orpheus. Best he could tell, the name seemed to fit him well. Maybe it was just because it felt comfortable, the way it was buried inside an otherwise empty mind. “If there are people here they may have ways of insulating their houses against the cold,” Orpheus said, though even he knew that there likely wasn’t anyone else in the town. They’d made enough noise that if there was, they probably would have been drawn out to see exactly what was happening with the newcomers. This didn’t seem like a place that received very many new people at all – surely the arrival of some would have led to some curiosity. It didn’t seem like it was late enough that everyone would be hiding away or asleep, right? “At the very least, if there are people who were here at any point, they needed to build these places and live in them. The town’s large enough that if they couldn’t survive the cold they wouldn’t have kept building… perhaps we should see what’s inside one of the houses?” Orpheus really, really didn’t want to go inside. He wasn’t sure why there weren’t any people, and he didn’t want to know what could have driven them off. He was afraid of finding bodies in the houses, or worse. But it seemed like a practical idea, and he didn’t want to be wandering the town at night, either. “Let’s go to the one with the door,” he agreed, voice quiet. That… was probably the one that had people in it, if there were any people left here. Part of Orpheus hoped there was someone waiting behind that door. Someone who could give them answers.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Dec 14, 2019 22:21:05 GMT -5
Skye nodded, smiling in relief as the other two accepted his name change without so much as batting an eye. He was touched, really. They could have told him to just stick with what he’d introduced himself as, and then what would he have done about it? They were the only people around who could call him by any name at all, he couldn’t exactly go find someone else. He was glad he didn’t need to. That settled, he turned his attention back to the other matters at hand. “Do you think there are other people around here?” He asked Orpheus, blue eyes wary as he watched the other man, then glanced at Macon. He got the sense that Macon was the unspoken leader of their little group, though he wasn’t sure why he thought that. Maybe it was just because the older man seemed more on the decisive side than the other two.... He also wasn’t sure what he thought about the idea of other people living here. For one thing, that meant there was some reason why they were keeping to themselves, assuming they were conscious and able to move. Oh dear. He didn’t like that thought. He knew he couldn’t assume anything, which meant the only thing to do was.... “I agree.” He said simply. “I think we should look in the houses. There could be anything in there, including information about who and where we are. One with a door seems best.” He moved, beginning to walk after Macon. Maybe he didn’t know anything, maybe he wasn’t even sure he wasn’t just a brain in a bottle of liquid in some lab somewhere, but he was going to find out as much as he could. He glanced at Orpheus. “Coming?”
Post by mintedstar/fur on Dec 16, 2019 4:49:45 GMT -5
Macon cast a backward glance at Orpheus, smiling just a little, and then continued for the distant house with the closed door. The ground below his feet was littered with a light scattering of small leaves from some of the nearby trees and his shoes lightly crunched against them as he walked. This just seemed to punctuate the silence. Macon knew that it was too quiet. This didn't seem to be what it should sound like when he was around people. He could hear Orpheus and Skye and only them. No other signs of life. Not even from the house. But he laid a hand on the doorknob when he reached the ramshackle building, gently turning the brass knob. He almost expected resistance under his fingers, his hand pausing automatically as if waiting for the feel of a deadbolt. None came. He thought doors usually had locks. Like the basic understanding that this was a town and what he was looking at was a door. But now he wasn't so sure. Maybe it didn't have a lock. Maybe it wasn't usual for people to keep their houses safe. He didn't know anymore. Slowly, he pushed open the door, each squeak of the hinges sending shivers down his spine. Not in fear, but annoyance at the noise. He hardly felt the need to call, "Hello?" into the darkness. It seemed like anyone on the other side would already know they were there. Then he pushed the door all the way open, looking over the living room. It was dusty, dirty, and something which appeared to be a sort of green moss was growing in a corner of the kitchen that was just visible inside. Macon looked around, more than just sight being put to the test. He couldn't smell or hear anyone. Nothing. Maybe a mouse or two, but no other large creatures. "No one's here," he said. He didn't even have to look in the other rooms. He glanced back in the direction of Skye and Orpheus and repeated, "The house is empty." He stood to the side, holding the door open for anyone who might want to do their own investigation. Somehow, he had a feeling that the other two might want to continue to try and find answers. He was just concerned because ... he didn't think there were other people around. It was just them. He could hear it in the silence around them. But he didn't want to break the small bubble of hope, embarrassingly in the back of his own mind, that wanted to believe that someone here had answers.
Orpheus looked between the two, hesitating before following. He was discovering quite quickly that he wasn’t much a fan of following other people. Because there was no denying that Macon’s idea was a good one, but because he seemed so confident that was the only step he could take and he had decided for the group that they were going there.. well, Orpheus didn’t want to. But saying that would just cause trouble, and he didn’t exactly want to split up. Distantly, he wondered if he’d been the leader of something, before. It seemed unlikely given what else he’d discovered of his temperament, but this aspect of himself was likely to cause issues later down the line if he didn’t suppress it. He didn’t want to start a fight. Not over something as stupid as not wanting to follow Macon just because Macon seemed to want them to follow. And he had a bad feeling about the house. He had a bad feeling about the entire town. Deep down, he knew that they were probably alone. “We’re not only looking for people,” Orpheus murmured after a moment, brushing past Macon to go further inside. He was grateful that Macon opened up the offer for them to go inside as well. The house felt… dead, in a way. Orpheus didn’t know how he could tell that, but it felt like there hadn’t been people in a very long time. He didn’t know what he expected from the small house – a map pointing out where they had all been born and where, exactly, they were now was a bit far fetched, but it would’ve been nice. The young man’s fingers tapped on the side of his pant leg again in a silent rhythm as he moved from room to room. “There’s nothing personal in here anywhere,” he commented, sure that the other two had also come to that conclusion. It was like if this had ever been a home, it had been a long time since. There were no cooking materials laid out in the kitchen from the last time the family had a meal, there were no books lying open on tables or anything else that suggested that the house had ever been lived in. The chairs at the table seemed to have been moved slightly from a perfect setup, but Orpheus was more ready to attribute that to rats or a particularly strong draft than to the presence of other humans here. “I’m going deeper in,” he said quietly, moving through the kitchen into one of the other rooms of the house. There were still bedsheets on the bed, but the desk was barren and empty. Disappointed, Orpheus peered back at Skye and Macon. “I was hoping to find some paper and a pen, or something. To write something and leave it here, so if anyone comes back they’ll know someone was here looking for them. Or… well, if anyone else like us comes, they’ll know they aren’t alone.” It was a nice thought, but it wouldn’t mean anything if they couldn’t find any paper or a place to stay for the night. “Or so we could make a map of the town as we go. I’m not keen on the idea of getting lost,” he admitted softly, tugging at the bandana around his neck. He felt like he was missing something. It nearly tore at him, but he couldn’t figure it out. He pushed the thought away. “Unless either of you has any better idea what to look for here maybe we could try a few more houses.” Unspoken was the thought that Macon was also keeping to himself: they were completely alone here. Which would have been fine if they had any idea which way to head to reach another town that could help them. Surely, if they had all arrived by walking, there was something close enough to walk to.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jan 17, 2020 18:26:54 GMT -5
Skye entered the house, letting the other two go first. Not because he was being charitable so much as he had hesitated to be the first through the door for self-preservation reasons. Nothing happened though, and he followed, sniffing the air as he entered the room and smelling nothing but dust. He sneezed hard, twice. It was obvious right away that no one had lived here in a very long time, if ever, but he of course wanted to check around and make sure of that before he came to any conclusions. He glanced at the other two, both of which were also inspecting the house like they thought it might swallow them, and smiled a little bit. There was little about this situation that seemed to call for the expression, but he made it anyway because he might have been alone in this house right now, and he wasn’t. Something told him he didn’t like to be alone, although it was hard to say when you couldn’t remember the last time such an event had happened to you. He wished he at least knew who he was. His life, his friends, his favorite hobby, anything...he felt so empty, not knowing. He wondered whether the others felt the same way, but he didn’t ask, not yet. He didn’t want to give that much of himself away just yet. Every scrap of information in his head felt important, every clue as to who he was precious. He would rather part with his right arm than lose what little information he had, “We’re looking for answers.” He finished Orpheus’s murmur easily, and hesitantly went further into the room. It needed cleaning, badly. And he noticed there was rodent damage to some of the chair legs, indicating that there was indeed life here. It wasn’t human life, but it made him feel better anyway, just to know they weren’t the only thing breathing in this town. “I’m not surprised there’s no one here.” He added, turning to look and the other two. “The whole town feels the same way. I think we’re the only one for miles around.” He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it seemed worth saying, so he went on. “Look, I’m exhausted and I’m sure you guys are too. Why don’t we just sleep here for the night and try exploring again in the morning? We’ll be much more thorough then.” They’d have to work out shifts if they slept, because no one was going to rest easy knowing there was no one awake. He eyed the others, wondered briefly if he could trust them, then decided that he didn’t have much of a choice. “I can take first watch.” He added quickly, then wondered whether that would make them suspicious. He wasn’t trying to rob them or kill them in their sleep, but he would understand if they thought he was. Oh well. If someone else decided they didn’t trust him, that was fine. Skye was willing to sleep with one eye open if it came to it. He felt like he was probably good at that, though he wasn’t sure why.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Jan 24, 2020 2:50:14 GMT -5
If it had just been him making the suggestion, than Macon was pretty sure that Orpheus would have overruled him at once. Orpheus did not seem to like him at all, though that might just be the feeling that Macon was getting from him. Skye, however, was the one who really made a convincing proposition to stay where they were. "I'd be willing to do that tomorrow," Macon said to Orpheus. He looked around, wondering for a very brief second if he was the sort to placate another. He decided in very quick order that he was not. If Orpheus wanted to locate pen and paper, then Macon was willing to let him find it himself. "Thank you," he said to Skye, his voice almost stiff, but at least respectful. He didn't overlook the fact that Skye was the one offering to look out for them. If Macon was going to trust, he needed to trust these two. There wasn't much of a choice, though he would do his best to make a different one if he had one presented to him. "I will be over here," he said, walking in the direction of what must have been a living room. From there he sat down in one of the chairs. He didn't think there was anything else which could be done for the time being, though he did suppose that there might be something else in the building that was not a living human. Macon crossed his arms and leaned his head back. The concept of sleep was familiar to him. Skye had mentioned it and Macon knew what it was, though he couldn't help staring at the inside of his eyelids and trying to work out the steps. None of it came. There was nothing which hinted that he should fall asleep either. No tiredness in the limbs or a fuzziness behind his lids. Those were vague notions that he felt like he should be experiencing, but he wasn't ... Macon sat there, thinking about it, eyes closed. He wasn't aware that not only had he approached the whole situation hastily, but that he was also incapable of sleeping. But he was trying to anyway.
Orpheus didn’t like the idea of the three of them alone here. There was something about being alone that set him on edge, that made him want to flee towards other people. But they were probably much safer in this strange abandoned village than they would be wandering the desert alone. At least there was shelter and maybe even good food left here. Maybe. He didn’t argue when Skye offered to take first shift. He… honestly hadn’t thought too much about sleeping in shifts. Perhaps wherever he was from he lived a safe enough life that sleeping in shifts had never been important. That was a nice thought – maybe he came from somewhere where he didn’t constantly need to be looking over his shoulder. Skye was right about this place, though. They needed to be constantly aware, and he was pretty tired. Despite that, he felt restless. Like there was something missing. And sure, fine, maybe it was just that he had no memories, but it felt like something deeper. It felt like something different. His fingers tapped the side of his leg again, holding there for a few moments before switching to a different motion and tapping again. Distantly, he wondered if he could find a piano in any of these houses. It was a weird thought – would he even know how to play the piano if he found one? “Wake me up for second shift in a few hours,” he murmured to Skye, casting the boy a small smile before settling a few feet away and leaning against a couch in the same room Macon had settled in. It would have felt wrong to just crash on someone’s couch, and he figured he’d be fine sleeping on the floor beside it. He hummed something soft under his breath – something half remembered and distant, and it seemed he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Good night,” he whispered to his companions, his voice sounding too small in this place. It suddenly felt too large – this small, empty village that should have been bustling with life. That probably was, once, a long time ago. Skye was right. There was nobody else around, and it was high time they admit that to themselves. Secretly, though, Orpheus wanted to hope that the boy was wrong. That there would be people shaking them awake in the morning begging to know who gave these strangers the right to sleep in their house. Deep down, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Orpheus let his eyes drift closed, listening to the slight sounds of Macon and Skye shifting as they got comfortable and settled in for the night. Distantly, Orpheus wondered if he was actually going to be able to fall asleep here, with so much uncertainty surrounding him. Slowly, though, he drifted off, the hum breaking off, replaced by the steady rhythm of breathing.
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jan 29, 2020 18:55:26 GMT -5
Skye blinked, startled as the other two took to his suggestion without so much as a nervous you aren’t going to kill me in my sleep, are you? He wasn’t complaining, though. He almost actually smiled in spite of their unfortunate circumstances, then stopped as he realized that it probably just meant he was paranoid. He didn’t really feel paranoid, but then again, what did paranoia feel like? He thought about it, but nothing came to mind and he was forced to conclude, yet again, that he didn’t know what he was talking about. Once the shock of having no memories had...not faded, exactly, but died down a bit, it seemed more like an annoyance than anything. He wanted to know who he was, who he knew, who knew him. He didn’t want to be trapped in a town with two strangers his instincts couldn’t make up their mind about. That was just unsettling. He wondered whether the other two felt the same way. How were they really taking this? They looked fairly calm, sure, but they might be completely freaking out on the inside and no one would know. No one would probably know, he corrected himself, because that was a leap he wasn’t willing to make now. He nodded at Macon, then Orpheus, as they each picked a place to settle down. Interestingly, neither of them took the couch, which he immediately inspected in case there was some obvious reason for that that he’d missed. There wasn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he supposed they had their reasons. And how did he even know that couches were meant for sleeping on? No, that one was obvious, they looked comfortable. It was common sense to sleep on something soft, he supposed, unless that was personal preference. Then he shook his head, trying to stop himself from being completely absorbed in his own thoughts. He got the impression he was capable of doing nothing but thinking for hours on end if he wanted to. Which, in this case, he didn’t. Skye half turned, sitting so he could see both his companions and outside at the same time. Maybe he was paranoid, maybe he wasn’t, but he was not about to get stabbed in the back because he was stupid enough to stop paying attention. That just wasn’t happening. It sounded like Orpheus, at least, had fallen asleep. Skye listened, but he couldn’t tell about Macon. Well, could he blame him is he hadn’t? Falling asleep in this situation was going to be tough no matter how tired you were, and Skye didn’t expect himself to do it easily when his turn came. Speaking of, how was he supposed to know when a couple hours had gone by? He frowned in the dark. He hadn’t thought of that. He’d just have to wing it, apparently. He wished Macon would fall asleep.
Post by mintedstar/fur on Feb 3, 2020 15:26:37 GMT -5
But Macon couldn't fall asleep. That didn't mean he wasn't capable of getting lost in thought, however. He just didn't have a grasp of what Orpheus was doing. But he thought about what he could hear from Orpheus. Breathing. It was such a slow heartbeat and breath coming from him now. It wasn't the same as it was from Skye. That's sleeping, Macon realized, silently, behind his eyelids. He wasn't sure how to get to that state. Skye wasn't matching it and there was no real way for Macon to work out how he could. It seemed rather boring just to sit there. He wondered if there was a difference between how he looked and Orpheus. There probably was, but he wasn't sure what he could do to put Skye at ease over it. He could practically hear the tension within the boy. It might have been a half an hour later or it might have only been fifteen minutes, but he let his eyes flicker open and he leaned forward. His arms braced against his knees as he watched Skye. Then he said softly, "Can't sleep." He didn't seem to be able to. He wasn't sure how he might manage it either. He'd have to see later. Maybe he would be able to later. In the mean time, he could feel a slight throb behind his eyes and a tangled knot growing within his chest. He could at least tell what it was. Hunger. At least he was pretty sure it was. And something in the room was starting to smell good, mostly originating from Orpheus. Something in Macon was labeling him as food and an easy target, though he personally was befuddled and hesitant as to why. Somehow, it didn't seem like something he could completely accept, even though the sound of blood going through Orpheus was a constant reminder that what Macon defined as food was right there. "Did you want me to take this shift instead?" he asked Skye, blinking several times to catch up with himself. "Since I'm awake." He wasn't sure if Skye would trust him, but he supposed the difference would be that he would remain up while Orpheus slept and Skye was up as well. He wasn't sure what that would mean.
Macon didn’t fall asleep. And didn’t fall asleep. And didn’t fall asleep. It shouldn’t have been unsettling. Somehow, he had the idea that not being able to fall asleep was a pretty normal thing, nothing creepy or wrong about it. And yet here he was about to bite his fingernails off over the fact that Macon wouldn’t sleep. And it had seemed so easy for Orpheus. He didn’t know what to do besides sit and watch, so that was what he did. He was extremely aware of everything going on around him, so much so that it was like a physical pain in his gut, but most of all he was aware of the silence. The..deadness I’m the air around him. It unsettled him, now that he wasn’t talking to the others even more than it had before. It was like walking in a graveyard. Or at least, how he imagined such a thing would be, since he had no way of knowing whether he’d ever done anything like it. Then Macon moved and Skye’s deep blue eyes fixed on him immediately, his body tensing up instinctively before he managed to calm himself back down. It was alright, he was just giving up the apparently futile attempt that was sleep. He blinked, slow and catlike, at the question. There were two answers that immediately came into his head. 1: Yea, I’m exhausted and you can’t sleep, 2: I don’t trust you. Had he always been so nervous? It seemed....it felt unlike him, somehow. In an attempt to counter it, he pushed his lips into a friendly smile and nodded, letting his relief show in his gaze. “Yeah, I’m exhausted. Thank you.” He whispered back, and stood up. When he glanced around, it was because there were only a few places that looked like good places to sleep, but then again the couch was as of now unclaimed, so maybe that was his best bet. He headed towards it, avoiding Macon as he went, and settled down. “Wake me up next, okay?” He said softly, eyeing Macon with a not-unfriendly expression on his young face. Then he lay down, rolled over and closed his eyes. He intended to stay awake and keep an ear on the situation, and had just lay down to rest, but he was so exhausted he was out the moment his head touched the cushion.
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