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Post by Fraze on Jun 16, 2017 4:13:22 GMT -5
Prologue Wrighton was not an unusual town. It had people living in it. It had roads, that the people used to get around. It had a library, a hospital, and a police department. It had several schools and a modest community college. It had a town hall that opened onto an attractive and well-kept public park. It had a mall, grocery stores, convenience stores, and a variety of restaurants and cafes. It had an immense system of tunnels and caverns beneath it, which people might have thought were catacombs except nobody knew they existed. It had several medium-sized businesses that made up most of the town's economy, such as a textile plant and a number of large farms. It also had a few pubs, because any self-respecting town needs a pub. All the roofs and all the roads in town were black. People from other towns sometimes visited Wrighton. Some came to visit friends, or to try out a new restaurant, or just for a change of scenery. Some passed through on their way to other places. Some commuted to jobs there, and some even moved there to attend the community college. But none of them ever stayed there. After some hours, or days, or years, they always left again. People from Wrighton sometimes visited other towns. Some went to visit friends, or to try out a new restaurant, or just for a change of scenery. Some went on trips to more distant places. Some commuted to jobs in other towns, and some even moved away to go to larger universities. But none of them ever stayed away. After some hours, or days, or years, they always came back again. No one gave this much thought. If you asked a visitor why they didn't stay in Wrighton, they would look at you like you just asked why they didn't marinade their clothes. “Because it's not home,” they would say. And if you asked a local why they didn't leave Wrighton, they would look at you like you just asked why they didn't try to get more fabric in their diet. “Because it's home,” they would say. Historians didn't like Wrighton because it defied all attempts at history. Nothing was known about its founding, and anyone who searched for historical or archaeological information on the town eventually became very disturbed by their findings and gave up. People from Wrighton had a buzzing in their heads, where the back of the skull meets the neck. It was always there, from birth until death. They never consciously recognized it because they never knew of a different way of living. But if they had been aware of it, and if they were able to focus intently on it, then they might just barely have been able to hear words in the buzzing. It would not have been a language they recognized, but they would have understood it. It was not an unusual town. It was a day in Spring. Whether it was a pleasant day depended on your idea of pleasant. A heavy rain had just stopped, and beads of rain were slowly evaporating off of the tents shielding the booths being set up in Wrighton's marketplace and central park. The spring fair would be in four days, and the town was eagerly preparing for it - or some people were, at least, while others didn't care much. Shops were setting up booths to promote their newest wares. Restaurants around town were perfecting new recipes to sell in rented food trucks. Private individuals claimed patches of ground to display their crafts. Carnival rides rented by the town government were being put together. A stage was being constructed in the park, courtesy of the Wrighton Theatre. Other organizations around the town found their own ways to incorporate themselves into the festivities. People not involved with the fair were going about their lives however they saw fit. Post summaries are still a thing!
Welcome to Wrighton, a very pleasant but unassuming medium-sized town. There's nothing particularly extraodinary about this town (not really), but the natives are quite fond of it nonetheless. Wrighton's Spring fair is in just four days, and being the town's biggest event of the year, it's gathering plenty of people from Wrighton as well as other nearby towns.
The prologue is intended for people to introduce and develop their characters, to situate them in the setting, and to start building connections between characters. Nothing weird happening in the story just yet. Chapters: Prologue: Everyone gets introduced ~ Expected and unexpected collisions ~ Smooth saxophone song-and-dance routine ~ Tarragon is Serious Business ~ A perfectly normal microwave ~ The serious threat of trees ~ Talking in the library ~ Art of imaginary childrens' games ~ Ayooooo ~ Discourse on floof-petting techniques ~ Everyone is totally normal, definitely nothing paranormal happening here ~ At least one quote that's extremely close to the actual plot Chapter 1: Broioioioioing ~ Little slips of paper ~ Traffic violations ~ What happens when they all come together? ~ Trash Inspection ~ Headaches ~ Let's poke at the mysterious dome and see what happens! ~ Codebreakers ~ Everyone's getting buzzed ~ Message in a bottle ~ Journalist showdown ~ Crowd control ~ Everyone's getting contact info ~ THEN WHO WAS NOTE? ~ Burger run Chapter 2: ♪Rooftops keep stranding me in bed♪ ~ Wrighton Potter and the Mysterious Beeping Noise ~ Sleepy Burrito ~ Trash Helicopter ~ Coffee delivery fairy ~ Incredibly boring supernatural events ~ Panic attacks, full-size and kid-size ~ Watch that first step, it's a dooz - ouch ~ The latest in pillowcase fashion ~ Extreme dumpster sledding ~ Surprise early morning rooftop trespass-in-your-pajamas meeting ~ Forgotten doors ~ You spin me right round ~ NOPE NOPE NOPE ~ Granola Bar Society ~ Strange encounters of the wat kind Chapter 3: Press conference ~ Question and non-answer round ~ Rage against the whatever-the-heck-that-is ~ The call to adventure ~ Tagging along on the super-dangerous-deadly mission ~ The extendable arm of the law ~ A whole lot of questions left unasked ~ Romantic sub-plots ~ A different Chosen One ~ Arresting a shadow ~ Cat logic ~ But moooooooom ~ Reincarnation ~ Cat boons ~ Underground screaming bears ~ In Soviet Wrighton, cats herd you Chapter 4: SECRET TUNNEEEEELLLLLL ~ Bye kids, have fun storming the caves! ~ Mood lighting ~ Freakishly harmless ~ Very clean, tidy tunnels ~ Dual-wielding tentpoles ~ Dungeon crawling ~ Slow-speed chase through the public park ~ It's dangerous to go alone, take this! *Hands cat* ~ Office space ~ Comfy bunkers ~ Monster kitchen ~ The careful balance of interestingness ~ Invisible graffiti on office walls ~ Bringing (a?) mace to a monster hunt ~ Searching for treasure chests ~ Squiggle Haze ~ A view to bedrock ~ Interviewrogation ~ Darkroom greenhouse ~ Refusing to be the Chosen One ~ DIY Squiggles ~ When staplers attack ~ Bloody Mary ~ "Hey let's open the door with the super obvious Do Not Open symbol!" ~ MORE OFFICES ~ Bureaucratic space chihuahuas ~ Puzzles and also blood ~ Suddenly relevant backstories ~ Therapy sessions with a hologram ~ There's something about Mary Chapter 5: Once more unto the breach ~ Library sleepover ~ Leave your badge behind ~ Snuffling for trouble ~ Subterranean pizza party ~ JEFF IS A JERKFACE (Also here have a plot-relevant interview) ~ Inventory checklist ~ Government coverups ~ Scolding the police mooks ~ Very long-distance calls ~ Dream sequences ~ Confusion, weirdness, and a dash of overwhelming ~ Hellsquiggles ~ Improper use of a 'you too' ~ One disaster at a time ~ Piximite evangelism ~ Achievement unlocked: Fold a map properly! ~ Ice cream social ~ Night of the Derpseal ~ Holy Coffee Maker of Ancient Lore ~ Monstercuddles ~ Squeeal ~ Just punch the puzzle until it solves itself ~ Percentage of awkward ~ Fête à la Marchioness ~ Splitting the party ~ Grey anatomy ~ Is it technically field medicine if they're in a hospital? ~ Breakup support group ~ Bring Back Beatrice Band ~ Ice cream exam ~ Mattresseal ~ Blast it all ~ Chlorophyllic ~ Frolicking tentacled things ~ Clogging the airwaves ~ Musical interlude ~ Creeping terror ~ The broom closet ~ Plantpire ~ High-impact reunion ~ Party time ~ Every time a bell rings ~ Fish meets Birb ~ ⑨ ~ No such thing as too much purple ~ Homegoing ~ That's not how you give things to people, Bea ~ Epic Sax Seal ~ The fear that people don't want to hear you ~ Uncle-niece dance ~ Honestly everyone probably needs a massage at this point ~ Cuddle therapy ~ Most expensive pizza toppings ~ Oh, they're totally dating ~ Mapmaker mapmaker make me a map ~ The bouncer and the bouncee ~ SquiggleVision ~ Spacedad pays a visit ~ Apologies given and accepted ~ Wrighton: The Musical ~ Strange Memories Chapter 6: Fan club ~ Trust ~ Earthdad pays a visit ~ The jerkface speaks ~ Stroking old wounds ~ Selfie instruction ~ BIRB ~ First aid ~ ♪My milk jugs spill all over the floor♪ ~ Beam me up Scippie ~ It stabs them with its steely knives... ~ Long-lost relatives ~ Steadfastness ~ When one job closes, another opens ~ The Girl Who Cried Beast ~ Walk in the underground park ~ Wet feathers, wet face ~ Start your engines ~ Runaway Fox ~ Past conflicts remembered ~ Library Exploration Club (name that reference) ~ Unlocking the final door in the dungeon ~ That bit where everyone sobs uncontrollably, you know what I'm talking about ~ You look away for a few hours and suddenly everyone's changed ~ Completely casual reveals ~ Just before the end ~ The ones who didn't make it ~ The One who didn't even make it that far ~ There's no breaks on the FEELS TRAIN ~ Cathartic pool party ~ Almost first flight ~ A life remembered ~ Wrestling with one's past self ~ Finding long-forgotten friends ~ Helping the souls of the not-exactly-dead find peace ~ Memorized message in a bottle ~ Oh right, that whole Beast thing ~ Giant hulking psychic fearmonger who clangs ~ You cannot fathom the true nature of fearbeast's attack! ~ State of the Town Address ~ The bit where epic music starts slowly building up in the background ~ Spamming the Sea Queen's timeline with clickbait articles ~ #WrightonIsMyHome Epilogue: Take me home ~ Take me to the stars ~ Strange Memory
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Post by Shinko on Jun 16, 2017 8:15:04 GMT -5
"I think this spot will do nicely," Rosemary O'Rourke said, her age roughened voice carrying notes of deep satisfaction. She had come to a stop just off the main boulevarde in Wrighton's central park, and was looking up into the branches of a crabapple tree that provided a spot of convenient shade to the spot in question. White flowers coated every speck of the plant in question, creating a beautiful canopy of blossoms overhead. Striding closer to the tree, Rosemary put a wrickled coffee-brown hand to the bark, adding, "This will make a nice landmark for you to find us by during your breaks, and keep me from having to listen to Esther whine that it's hot Nana!" At the old woman's side, a much younger individual gave a snort of amusement. Holly O'Rourke was every bit as dark-skinned as her grandmother, but where Rosemary had hair the color of a thundercloud, Holly's was jet black, and her skin smooth. Well muscled under her violet summer dress, she was carrying a large plastic storage crate over one shoulder, and several metal poles over the other. However, before she could offer a reply, the third member of their company piped up in a high, cheery voice. "I won't complain none, Nana! I'll be good." Flouncing up to the elderly woman's side, the small, caramel skinned child added, "Even if it is really, really hot." At the small girl's side, a brown and black dog gave a soft wuff of what might have been agreement, his tail wagging. Holly laughed, setting down her burden and reaching out to ruffle both Esther's hair and the dog's ears. "I'm sure you'll be very good for your Nana while Mommy is working," she said sagely. "Help her sell lots of soap, hm?" "Uh-huh," Esther said, beaming. "And the bath fizzies too! They're my favoritest! I like their sound." Rosemary and Holly both chuckled, and Holly gestured towards the dog with her chin. "For now, how about you play fetch with Dunkin, hm? While Mommy helps Nana set up the awning for her table." The dog's ears pricked at the word "fetch," his tail wagging hopefully. Esther giggled and nodded, tugging on the Belgian Malinois' leash. "Okay, Mama. Hier, Dunky, let's go play!" Dunkin was only too happy to oblige, following after Esther as she unclipped his lead and picked up a stick from under the tree. Watching her daughter frolic off into the grass, Holly chuckled softly under her breath. "I give her an hour at the festival before she's griping your ear off." "You're being awfully generous," Rosemary drawled, a twinkle in her hazel eys. "I was going to give it twenty minutes." Holly snorted, bending down to pull the lid off of the storage bin. Its contents were revealed to be a pale blue tarp, multiple lengths of rope, and several bungee chords. "Sometimes I wonder why you agree to watch her for me all the time. After chasing me and Jonny around you more than deserve your retirement." "What, and sit around all day knitting?" Rosemary retorted tartly. "Nonsense. Staying active keeps me young longer. Now give me the other end of the tarp, and let's get it unfolded." Holly obliged, and slowly but surely she and her grandmother set about getting the awning set up. While the tree would of course provide plenty of shade, it would do little in the event another surprise downpour like the one that had hit Wrighton earlier in the day decided to dump on the festival. It would also stand to announce to any potential last-minute squatters that this spot was taken, thank you. Holly's concentration on her work was jarred, however, when she heard a startled cry from Esther, and a bark of alarm from Dunkin. Whirling, the young woman saw her daughter windmill backwards from a person who she seemed to have just run into, losing her balance and landing with a thump on her rear. Introducing Holly, Rosemary, Esther and Dunkin! They are hanging out at the park, setting up a small stall where Rosemary plans to sell some of Holly's handmade soaps and bath bombs. The tranquility is interrupted, however, when four-year-old Esther gets over exuberant while running around with the dog and accidentally runs into a mystery someone. Could it be you? 8O
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Post by Killix on Jun 16, 2017 11:09:12 GMT -5
"A burning vision, our ambition, break the mold, and win the mission The sky is not limit If you want to reach the stars above!"Velia Briar sang along to the tune of her favourite song as she worked. The tiny music player kept in her pant pocket was loud enough to fill the air with Piximite Melee's cheesy, optimistic music, but with volume set at a reasonable enough level as to not leak obnoxiously into the adjacent stalls. Stepping to the tune and punctuating her actions with the song's chorus, she unpacked the tent fabric for her market stall, unfolded the folding table, set up the chair, and plopped the tent poles into their places. Ever since the launch and relative success of her website and online store a few years ago, Velia had lost the need to sell her custom handmade items in-person. The festival, however, was a great opportunity to try out new things. It also occurred to her that not only could she sell cool things, but she could also buy cool things if time permitted. She was excited. Velia had spent the previous night finishing work on some brand new crafts - an effort that took her into late hours, but also resulted in cool new items to sell. No regrets! All she needed today was a little bit of energetic music to lift that tired feeling away on a rocket headed into space! Or at least that's what she kept telling herself between yawns. A large portion of the new items consisted of small Keychain charm sculptures, and a handful of custom butterfly hair ties made up the rest. The ties were similar in style to a ButterMoth design that she had made for herself years ago, and always wore. People would often compliment her on the piece, so it made sense to try it out as an item. If they sold, great! if not... she'd certainly have a lot more hair ties to choose from. Though real animals and popular folklore were obvious design bases for these crafts, a lot of of her inspiration was tapped straight from her favourite game in the whole world: Piximite Melee. Ahh, Piximite Melee! The popular virtual pet slash card game that had taken the world by surprise. Children and adults alike were drawn to the simple game that hid gems of much deeper experience within layers of fun mechanics for those who wished to explore them. Velia stopped fumbling with the tent tarp and absently reached for the lanyard her Pixcom game device was attached to. Just thinking about the game made her want to play. Maybe train her Piximite just a little... --- The tent was finally in place, completing the stall. Velia flicked the power switch on the music player and took a quick step back to check her work. Lopsided, backwards, and twisted were all words that could adequately describe how the tent looked. Velia palmed her face with a gloved hand, letting her fingers slip back through her teal coloured hair as she took in a calming breath. Time to try again. With less daydreaming. Velia Briar likes cheesy music, crafts, and children's card games. She has a fairly successful online store where she sells her cool things. She's really bad at putting up tents.
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Post by Rabbit ♠ on Jun 16, 2017 12:25:54 GMT -5
Ani Hemsworth rocked on her feet nervously at one of the desks. There was nobody there that can check the book she wanted to start reading out of the library. She was going to start reading in the library anyway, but Ani knew she would forget to check it out if she didn't do it now and she didn't want to do that again. So she leaned on the desk and examined the book. "Ricardo Gacy" was in a big, fancy print on the top of the cover with multiple pictures of him below that. Ani took a lot of interest in the pictures. He looked like a normal man. However, anybody could look normal and do terrible things like what he did. Just as Ani opened the book to the first page, a voice behind her said, "Waiting to check out?" She turned around. Her friend, Claire, was behind her. Claire had her hair up in a tight bun. Ani knew that meant she was volunteering at the library right now. While Claire never explicitly told her, Ani recognized that she only did that when working. Ani nodded and handed the book that she wanted to check out to Claire. Claire was a bit surprised by what she chose. "Ricardo Gacy? Isn't he that killer who was around a long time ago?" Claire asked. Ani nodded once again and gave a proud smile. Out of all people, Claire should know she was interested by this type of thing. They were friends for how long now? Besides, Ani finished a manga series last week and didn't want to start another so soon. "I don't know why I'm surprised by you anymore," Claire commented. Ani held back a chuckle. After she regained her composure, she pointed at the computer and held eye contact with Claire. Claire tilted her head. Just what was Ani trying to communicate this time? Ani was getting frustrated that she wasn't getting what she meant. She really didn't want to take out her notebook and write it out for her. Ani took the book from Claire and held it up while still pointing at the computer. "Oh, you want me to check the book out?" Claire asked. Ani nodded again. "Why didn't you say so?" Ani pouted jokingly at that statement. Claire knew that she didn't talk. "Right, sorry." Claire laughed. "I don't know if I can, but I can definitely try." Claire snaked behind the desk and stood up on the other side. Ani handed her the book and her library card. Claire looked at the computer. Now how would she do this? She saw others check out books all the time and she was told it wasn't too hard. After going through the computer for a few minutes, Claire scanned the book and Ani's library card. Claire typed a little bit more and made sure that Ani's checkout was in the system. "It looks like the book was check out," Claire said triumphantly. Ani smiled and clapped quietly. Claire handed the book back to Ani. "That book is due by the end of the month." Ani gave a thumbs up and practically ran off to the tables and chairs to start reading. She chose the table near the corner by the window and sat down. She eagerly sat down and started reading. Ani sees her friend, Claire, volunteering at the library. Ani wants to check out a book on a serial killer, because she likes that stuff. :'D After Claire figured out how to do that, Ani excitedly sat down at the table and began reading.
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Post by Elcie on Jun 16, 2017 12:47:25 GMT -5
Anise Carter's stall at the festival, much like Anise Carter herself, was small and unobtrusive. Still, she was very proud of it. She'd been preparing a selection of her specialty coffees and teas to sell at the festival, little bags with colorful ribbons and hand-written labels sitting in neat rows at her table. She didn't expect much business; her little cafe was a niche affair, offering gourmet coffee and tea that was not easy to find in Wrighton because there was not much demand for it. But perhaps someone at the festival would find their way to her stall and discover something new. Or maybe her regulars would stop by and take one of their favorites home. She didn't usually go to the trouble of selling her beans and leaves to the public. The cats were already here, she noticed. Some of them, anyway. To Anise, the way they always seemed to find her so quickly was one of life's little mysteries that didn't really need solving. She fed them, sure, but they always seemed to be nearby even when she wasn't carrying any food. "Sorry, loves, I don't have anything for you today," she said to a white cat washing itself indifferently under the table. "This is for our human friends." It didn't respond, though she hadn't really expected it to. It was just a cat. A few stalls away, someone's dog was barking, and a few more cats trotted over to Anise's stall, tails flicking in annoyance as they sought out some peace and quiet. She paid no attention to them, standing in front of her stall and frowning at it, tilting her head one way and then the other. The colorful, floral-print fabric draped over the table looked very nice, and she was proud of the sign she'd made, but-- oh. Of course. She'd forgotten the awning. Not really surprising, though. At this point, it was usually better to just assume she'd forget something and deal with it as best as she could when it happened. Leaving the stall as it was - naturally, she wasn't going to leave the coffee and tea out until the day of the festival - Anise set out in the direction of her cafe at a jog. At least it wasn't far. She was preoccupied enough running through her mental list of preparations that she didn't see the little girl in her path until it was too late. "Ouch- oh, I'm sorry, sweetie, are you all right?" She leaned over to try and help her up. Anise, the absent-minded cafe owner, is setting up her booth along with some of the cats that tend to follow her around town. When she realizes she's forgotten to set up the awning, she runs off only to run into Esther O'Rourke. Shinko
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Post by Shinko on Jun 16, 2017 15:01:43 GMT -5
Holly was making a beeline for her daughter as Esther reached up to accept the stranger's hand. There were tears pricking at the small child's narrow, almond shaped brown eyes, and she snuffled slightly. "I hurt my hand," she declared to the stranger as she regained her feet, holding up her palm to reveal a bit of redness where she'd scraped it on the path below. Dunkin, hovering fretfully behind the little girl, nosed at her hand with a whine, prompting Esther to pull it away from him with a wince. Holly, catching up to her daughter, bent down and scooped her up, propping Esther on her hip. "Great Goddess, Essie, how many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going?" "Sorry, Mama," the child said, pressing her face into her mother's shoulder. Holly sighed, turning to the stranger apologetically as she smoothed her daughter's ebony curls. "I'm terribly sorry about that, Miss. She's four- uncoordinated at the best of times, especially when she gets to running around. You're not hurt are you? I think my grandmother and I have a first-aid kit back in the car, if you need." To her dog, who was curiously eyeing up a bright ginger tabby lurking nearby, Holly added, "Dunkin, Voet." The Malinois glanced up at his master, wagged his tail once, and backed up to stand obediently at her heel, tongue lolling lazily. Esther scraped her hand a little when she fell, and is a drama queen about it (as you do when you're four.) Holly catches up and apologizes to Anise ( Elcie), asking if she's hurt at all. Dunkin's being a Good Boy and sitting at Holly's heel despite the allure of cats. Rosemary is still back at the booth if someone else wants to approach her or Elcie wants to draw her into the conversation, lol. Rosemary's pretty old and has lived in Wrighton since forever, so I imagine quite a few people in town are at least familiar with her.
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Post by Thorn on Jun 16, 2017 15:33:40 GMT -5
Annabelle Dionte, more commonly known as Dion; and for a short but frankly embarrassing period known as "Annabelle von Dionte van der Smith-Carrington", flipped open her pocket watch to check the time. Granted, it wasn't the correct time. She was impressed it was even still wound. But the little thing intrigued her, with its soft ticking noise and whirring gears, and was a most excellent way to make herself Look Busy. She forced the watch back into her jeans and glanced around. The town fair wasn't for another four days, but the people were already preparing their colorful tents and somewhat more dismal stalls (Dion liked how the tents flowed and billowed, the stalls were so boring and still.) What was the rush? There were many things she still didn't understand about this town, Dion reflected, dipping her toe into a puddle. Her reflection swam back into view as the ripples faded: short dark hair, brown skin and eyes, a face which was neither narrow nor round enough to comment either way. Perhaps her nose stood out a bit too much- that could do with being a little larger, it looked like a button sitting there on her face! But even given that, in her rainbow tie-dye jeans and smiley blue dolphin shirt, she looked just like any other Wrightonian. Wrightonite? She would have to ask about that one... Dion wears a pocket watch most improperly. Not much else happens, really. She stands around in the marketplace watching people set up their stalls, unsure as to why they are doing it so early, but interested in observing how they go about this grand affair. I'll just have her lurk around for now, not doing much unless interacted with, in the True Spirit of NPCing. =P Also despite what she says, she probably doesn't look 'just like any other Wrightonian': her dress sense is atrocious.
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Post by June Scarlet on Jun 16, 2017 16:56:18 GMT -5
Beatrice Bizelli set her suitcase on her childhood bed. She was back home. The town looked the same, the house looked the same, her room looked the same. Nothing had changed since Beatrice had left. A new flowerbed here. An updated billboard there. But by and large, it was the same town she grew up in. She felt as if she could just melt back into her old life here. And as it so happens, warm spring days are perfect for melting. Beatrice was not one for sitting and contemplating the past, however. Not when there was always something to do, things to do, stuff to learn. She grabbed her satchel. What had changed since she left to be a journalist in the big city? It was time to explore. *** Sharron Bizelli, on the other hand, noticed changes as she headed to her shift at the library. People were already setting up for the fair. The library was setting up a booth with some activities for the kids, but luckily she didn't have to assemble it this year, just volunteer once things started. The library was cool and quiet as she stepped inside. She felt at peace in these walls, among the books. She noticed a regular patron, Ani, reading in the corner, and gave a small wave. Such a nice girl. Sharron noticed Claire, one of the volunteers, and approached her. "Was everything okay this morning? I'm sorry I wasn't here, I had to pick up my daughter from the airport. I think she left before you started volunteering here, so I don't believe you've met her. She works as a Journalist, but decided to come for a visit. Isn't that nice?" *** Beatrice walked the familiar black streets, passing old haunts and hangouts. It appeared people were starting to set up for the fair, the same one they had every year. Still, this appeared to be where things were happening, and she wanted to be where the action was. She started wandering around, keeping an ear out for interesting tidbits. Beatrice returns to her childhood room to stay with her parents after a stint in the big city as a journalist. But who has time to dwell on the past? There's stuff to explore! Like the Fair. Meanwhile, her mother Sharron Bizelli returns to the library where she works. Hi Rabbit ♠'s characters!
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Post by Celestial on Jun 16, 2017 17:15:54 GMT -5
Fionn awoke quite early that day. Too early for his liking. He rolled over and went back to sleep, waking up much later in the morning. Perfect. Life was far too short to waste not being in a nice, comfortable bed. Of course, there was plenty of other things to do in life, but lying in bed was quite nice. Nevertheless, he eventually flopped out of it, deciding to switch the bed for a nice long, warm shower. Once he had finished showering, he sat in front of his mirror with a comb, running it through his thick black hair and taking particular care to make his less thick moustache look slightly more presentable. It ended up looking like the bristles of a walrus but no matter: he was still incredibly handsome. Sure, some would say otherwise, judging him by his...extensive girth, but it was not weight that mattered as much as charm. And Fionn had plenty of that to spare. Putting on some comfortable clothes- a t-shirt, tracksuit and sneakers bottoms- Fionn turned his attention to the coat that lay draped over his chair. The floor-length garment was made entirely out of a sleek, silky grey fur dappled with darker patches seemingly at random. Lifting up it carefully, he put it on, letting it hang from his elbows; it was too warm to pull the coat up on to his shoulders. He took a glance at himself in the mirror before leaving his room: the coat did not match the rest of his outfit at all, and it was clearly far too small for him but so what? And besides, he looked incredible. Fionn tossed his hair and winked at his reflection before sauntering out into the hotel corridor. Hopefully they were still serving breakfast in the hotel. They were just about to stop, in fact, when he walked in. To Fionn's joy, there was still bacon left. The fact that a greasy, salty, sometimes slightly crunch strip of meat could taste so amazing was just one of life's little miracles. He piled his plate full of as much as he could fit, plus a few other goodies, like pastries and an egg, and some fruit to balance it out before settling down at a table. As he ate, however, a shadow fell over him. Fionn, however, remained unfazed. He swallowed his latest mouthful and beamed up at the shadow, who was revealed to be a slim, middle-aged lady sporting gold-rimmed glasses and a prim, conservative bun. "Hi Maggie! How are you doing this morning?" he exclaimed. "Beautiful weather we're having! Almost as beautiful as you are." "Spare me, Fionn Colby," she replied, rolling her eyes. "My day would be so much better if you paid for your hotel room on time. You've been living in it without paying for three days!" "Well, yeah. I was going to pay but stuff came up!" Fionn was still smiling. "Let me guess? You went out for dinner? Beers? You bought another game?" Maggie looks unamused. "One of those, yep," Fionn nodded. "But it's okay! The festival's coming and I'll pay you! I've always paid you, haven't I? Can you name a time in the last seven years when I didn't pay?" Maggie's mouth thinned. "Fine," she threw her hands up in the air. "But if you don't pay me, I'm kicking you out and replacing you with actual paying guests!" "You're the best, Maggie!" Fionn called to her as she walked away, raising up a mug of coffee in a toast. After she had left, he finished his breakfast in peace before heading back up to his room and collecting his saxophone. The old thing was a little rusty in places but it was in peak condition where it mattered. Certainly it sounded amazing when he played it. Fionn gave it an experimental blow and played a few notes, then when he was satisfied, exited the room and the hotel, heading for the park where the booths were being set up. It looked awesome so far. Fionn always enjoyed Wrighton's festivals and the spring one was certainly something. There was always cool stuff to buy, good food to eat and excellent drinks to, well, drink. He was looking forward to it! Hopefully there would be somebody to listen to his music and some tourists he could have fun with. The people of Wrighton had learned not to make bets with Fionn since he always won, but the tourists were another matter. Fionn hefted his saxophone onto his shoulder, adjusted his coat around his arms and strolled through the stalls, casting glances at what was being set up and the people surrounding him. He hoped they were as excited as he was for the upcoming celebrations. One in particular caught his eye: with a rainbow tie-dye t-shirt like that, how could she not? She certainly looked interesting, and he was sure he had not seen her around before. Well, no harm in saying hello. Fionn approached her and flashed his best grin. "Well hello! I've not seen you around before, you new here? This is going to be the spring festival!" he held out his hand. "Fionn Colby, pleased to meet you. And who might you be, miss?" Meet Fionn. He gets up late, is introduced through his morning routine and goes down to have breakfast in the hotel, where the manager accosts him because he's overdue on payment. He says he'll pay, because he always has, and plans to make money during the Festival. He goes off to observe the preparations for said festival with his saxophone in hand and wanders around, looking for interactions. He decides to stop and chat with Dion( Thorn) because why not?
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Post by Nut on Jun 16, 2017 17:18:30 GMT -5
All of the roofs and all of the roads in town were black. They had told him it wasn’t an unusual town, that it was a good place, a safe place. The people who visited never came away with complaints. The people who lived there never wanted to leave. Maybe he wouldn’t fit right in with them—Aster never fit right in anywhere—but they were good people, they assured him, and they would accept him. Maybe he’d even finally decide he’d found a place he wanted to stay. He didn’t want to stay. He hadn’t even wanted to go. Standing in the middle of the dark pavement surrounded by the ring of pointed roofs was like hovering over a void, looking up at a hundred black spears fencing him away from the world he knew, the world he was eager to return to. But he didn’t feel at home in that world either. Wasn’t the whole reason he had come because he hadn’t been happy there? Because he had never been happy anywhere, that no matter how many places he felt like he was meant to be in, he never found one where he wanted to be? What he wanted didn’t matter, of course, since he didn’t even know what that was anyway. He was meant to be here now. Too many people had mentioned it in passing for it to be coincidence, and the timing of this festival had come up too perfectly for him to ignore. There would be artisans selling their wares, so he should fit in, right? He laughed internally and held his sketchbook and travel paint kit closer to his chest. He didn’t want to sell his work. It was all scenes of places he had left, the only memories he had of where he had been. He remembered the noise the traffic lights made here and how late it got dark in summer there, but he didn’t remember the people. Something had always seemed to separate him from them. There was no reason to believe it’d be different here. But at least it had stopped raining. Aster finally dared to step away from the doorway he had taken shelter at and head towards the festival, hoping someone would be selling something waterproof he could keep his sketchbook in. He should have brought something, but he’d only been planning to stay for the day and it hadn’t looked like it was raining from a distance. Whether his jeans and jacket got soaked didn’t matter, but he had to protect his supplies. Then he’d find a quiet place to make a picture of this scene. He supposed he should be paying attention to the blossoming trees and colorful festival stalls, but the black roofs loomed higher over them, looking down on the young blond—technically an adult but still small for his age, with smooth features and long hair that reached his waist. He was sure he looked nervous and aimless; it always felt like he didn’t belong. He didn’t know what he was doing here. A bright floral fabric draped over a table caught his eye, providing a welcome splash of color away from the black roofs and gray clouds overhead. It was sad the stall didn’t have an awning, or he might have taken shelter under it earlier; now, he moved closer and ran his gaze over the handmade sign at the table, which somehow gave off a sweet, homey impression, like someone had put a lot of love into it. He told himself to come back later when it was actually set up. Looking for someone who was ready to sell things, he stopped and wondered about the tent that seemed all twisted over itself; was it in place or not? As he got closer to it, he saw a teal-haired girl struggling with the tarp. The sight of a plastic covering raised his hopes. “Uh, excuse me,” he said. “Do you have like, a spare plastic bag or something?” She didn’t seem to hear him. There was faint music playing, but he couldn’t make out the words. He spotted something colorful lying on the ground and picked it up; it was a hair tie with a bright butterfly design on it that looked handmade. He moved closer so she could see him and held it out. “Did you drop this? It’s really nice.” Aster does not want to be in town for long but needs to find something waterproof to carry his stuff in. He admires Anise’s stall and asks Velia about one of her butterfly hair ties. Killix
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Post by Thorn on Jun 16, 2017 17:35:09 GMT -5
"Fionn Colby," Dionn emphasised each syllable, grabbed his hand, and shook it in what she hoped was a 'hearty' manner. "My very great pleasure to meet you! I am Miss Annabelle Dionte of a land far away, but you may call me Dion." He was fairly typical-looking, though that mustache did remind her of another creature she'd seen in her travels. Walrus, that was the word. And he had an object with him which looked somewhat familiar...some kind of instrument, even if she couldn't tell exactly what without looking more closely. She liked instruments. She didn't like the silence, and they were good at fixing that. But how would she get him to play it, without making it obvious that she was so incompetent she didn't know what 'it' actually was? "Err, that thing," she said, letting go of his hand in order to point. "I know what that thing is, of course. Could you provide a demonstration for me? I would be ever so delighted. I simply adore music." Wild Fionn appears! ( Celestial) Dion introduces herself in turn, and then asks if he can demonstrate his saxophone for her...even if she can't recall what it actually is, oops. Still, I'm sure he didn't notice!
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Post by Ginz ❤ on Jun 16, 2017 18:31:37 GMT -5
Itzel was excited for the spring fair. Not only did it mean she had a much-needed break from school, but every year, the fair attracted a decent number of tourists to visit Wrighton. If she was lucky, maybe she’d get to meet a couple of new people and ask them about where they were from. It was much more interesting to learn about those things firsthand, to hear about people’s actual lives and experiences, rather than having to stick to books from the library or articles online that she wasn’t sure were completely accurate. Itzel walked past the park often on her way to and from work at the burger place. It was nice at this time of the year. She liked seeing the booths and tables slowly being set up, growing in number each day as the fair approached, just as her anticipation grew as well. She wished she could take advantage of the fair to set up her own booth and make some money, but she had nothing to sell. She wasn’t particularly artistic or crafty. Maybe it was for the best, though. She had been scheduled for shifts nearly every day at the burger place, and that’d keep her busy enough. She still wanted to have time to enjoy her break. And speaking of enjoying her break, since she was free that day and a look out her window revealed it was no longer raining, she decided to head out to the library. She had to return a book she had checked out for school, and she wanted to find something to read during break. “Good morning,” she greeted Sharron as she entered the library. “I came to return this,” she said, taking a heavy textbook out of her backpack and setting it on the desk. When that was done, she walked in to browse the shelves. She picked out a book on Ancient Latin American Civilizations and looked around to find a place to sit. Her favorite table by the window was taken by a girl that she didn’t know, but who looked familiar. She looked nice enough, and Itzel figured there was room to share, so she approached her table. The girl seemed pretty engrossed in her book. “Um,” she said quietly, not wanting to disturb her “excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?” Itzel is excited for the spring fair. She's glad to be on break from school, and she's hoping to meet people coming from out of town. She's not participating in the actual fair, though, she has nothing to sell. Today, she has a free day and decides to head to the library. She asks Ani if she can sit next to her. ( June Scarlet, Rabbit ♠)
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Post by Gelquie on Jun 16, 2017 18:33:23 GMT -5
A dark form rippled through the scant currents of the school pool, making its way towards the ladder out. It was underwater for quite some time, and hesitated as it reached the edge. But then a head emerged, and the young Alexis Marinos took a gasp for breath before a smile formed across her face. School was out while the residents of Wrighton prepared for the festival, but the sports center operated independently of the school and thus was still open. It was a bit of a bike's ride away, but not too far, so it was convenient for when she wanted to take to the waters without going all the way to the river. Not that she was allowed to swim through that in case the current swept her away, but she couldn't help but be drawn to the running waters. Besides, her family allowed her her freedom so long as she didn't abuse it too much (and so long as her abuses remained unnoticed). After all, Wrighton was a fairly safe place to live. She still took care in the river, but it was a great place to at least dip her feet. Alexis emerged from the water, her one-piece swimsuit clinging to her tan olive skin, drops of water dripping from her short, dark curly hair that sat just atop her head, albeit weighted by the water. She ran her hand across her face, her fingers bumping over her straight but large nose before moving to wipe the water from her medium brown eyes. She blinked the rest out, squinting her eyes through the fluorescent light that lit up the pool area before moving to grab a towel from the bench and heading to the showers to rinse off the chlorine. Her family did have a pool of their own, but it wasn't quite the size of the one that the sports arena offered. The backyard pool was still great for the sake of diving into the water for some quick laps and to feel the water around her, but she couldn't quite do as much there. So her family got her a swim pass for the sports center. As her mother would say, she has practically abused it ever since. That and the pass to run on the track in the center. But Alexis had always been one for staying active. To her, it was an exhilarating activity, and a great way for her to have some time for herself. This has been more true than ever, especially during this school year. She was alright with school, but it hadn't treated her kindly. So many people in her school were too young, but she wasn't old enough to go to high school. And the other kids in her age group... They'd changed. Not all for the better. It wasn't as if she didn't have friends, but too often, they were distracted. So Alexis had been trying to distract herself in turn, and in the best way she knew how to do. Or at least, as much as was feasible in the winter. But it's Spring now, Alexis thought to herself later as she pulled on her shoes, now dressed in a t-shirt and shorts that extended to her knees. And we've got a break for the Festival. It'll be fun! ...And maybe I'll be able to meet with the others. ...Maybe.She frowned in thought, but then shook her head, got up, and stretched, trying to push the uncomfortable thought out of her head. Well nevermind, let's go see the set-ups at least. Mom wanted to meet me in the market anyway; may as well. ...Speaking of which.On her way out the door, of the center, Alexis pulled out her cell phone and saw that she had a text message. It must've sent while she was in the pool. She pulled it up and saw that it was from her mom. Late. Again, Alexis thought with a sigh as she pulled on her bike helmet. She supposed she couldn't blame her, but Alexis could be impatient at times. Finding what her mother wanted wouldn't take long, so she'd have to find something else to occupy her time. Maybe there would be something there that would be interesting, though she doubted it. Still, nothing else to do. She sped away on her bike, and soon she arrived in the marketplace. She looked around at the shopkeepers, some who were already preparing for the festival, though not far enough that she knew what they were going to sell. She glanced around, confusing drawing her face. She'd lived here all her life, but where again could one find tarragon? She knew it was an herb, but in a container or fresh? And what did it look like? She dismounted her bike and pushed it along the path, glancing carefully at the stalls, her brow knit in concentration as she tried to find the elusive tarragon. Alexis Marinos is a sporty, active 13-year-old girl who really enjoys getting into sports to take a break from the world. She's been doing it more often when she can because middle school is hard. Not because of the grades (her grades are decent; not great, but decent) but because of the other students. She enjoys her swim, creates the equivalent of a prolonged sigh for her school situation, then bikes to the market to try to find tarragon for her mother. She's strolling along the stalls with her bike searching for it and looking very confused, probably stopping for extended periods of time to check out stalls. Maybe someone can help her? That or call her over to try to sell her something regardless of her needs; your call!
(Tarragon is indeed an herb, by the way! I'm sure your friendly neighborhood search engine can tell you more.)
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Post by Rabbit ♠ on Jun 16, 2017 19:15:29 GMT -5
Ani's eyes were practically glued to the book. She only got as far as reading about Ricardo Gacy's early life, but she was extremely interested in this sort of stuff. While it wasn't explicitly stated, she could tell that the neglect he received in his childhood and early adulthood made him grow bitter as the years went on. At least that was the pattern Ani noticed with her reading about other serial killers. As she was reading, she heard someone ask to sit next to her. She looked up to see a girl about her age. Ani thought she looked really pretty. The girl had a book on Latin American civilizations in her hands. Hmm, that was an interesting choice. Ani thought it’d be nice to have her sit close by. She nodded, looking back down at her book soon after. Over the top of her book, Ani saw Ms. Bizelli walk by. She waved at Ani. that made her smile. She really liked the librarian here. Just as Ani was going to go back to reading her book, she saw Ms. Bizelli walk to Claire. Was there a problem? Claire did have a bit of trouble checking out the book Ani had. Ani took off her reading glasses, put those in her bag, and walked towards the two with her book. She waved to the girl as she walked off. As she walked, Ani couldn’t help but skim the book. It was harder to read without her glasses, but the font in the book was large enough so she could tell what she was reading. She would have to read what she was skimming again, though. As she was getting closer, she began to hear what they were saying. “Everything was alright. Nothing serious happened,” Claire said. “I had to check out a book for Ani, though, and I’m not sure if I did it, right. Can you check?” Claire made her way behind the desk before she continued. “I didn’t know you had a daughter, Ms. Bizelli.” Ani stopped skimming her book. She didn’t know Ms. Bizelli had a daugher, either. Ani's reading when Itzel asks to sit next to her. She agrees. As she's reading, she sees Sharron Bizelli talking to Claire. Concerned that there's something wrong with her book, she checks it out. Claire asks to see if she checked out the book correctly. Claire and Ani learn that Sharron has a daughter. Hi Ginz ❤ 's and June Scarlet 's characters!
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Post by Killix on Jun 16, 2017 20:17:03 GMT -5
*swshh* *clink*Velia tugged on the tangled tarp. *schh* *fwsh*No, that wasn't right. She flipped the fabric around in place. How did that side end up attached to that pole?? *swsh* *shff*This thing was a mess. She had definitely overestimated her ability to put simple structures together while tired. With the rogue tent corner spotted, Velia moved to unattach the fabric from the pole. Just then, she noticed that someone was standing in her stall. The boy held a colourful item out towards her, “Did you drop this? It’s really nice.” A quick glance was all she needed to identify the item as one of her butterfly-shaped hair ties (or ButterTies as she had written on the sign for their display). Velia looked around at the scene, and traced the item's imaginary journey all the way back to the table - or more specifically, the case that sat atop it. The case she had left open while setting up her tent. "Oops. Yeah, that's one of mine," she replied, taking the buttertie-escapee with a smile. "Thank you for the heads up!" The tie had spent some quality time getting to know the wet ground and was unfortunately a little too damp and dirty to sell with the others now. She eyed it disapprovingly before shoving it into her free pant pocket. "And thank you!" she grinned, genuinely flattered that the stranger thought the accessory looked nice. "It's a shame that it had to flop onto the wet ground, but I'll be able to clean it up and recycle it somehow!" Her thoughts wandered back to her house, and how she could re-purpose the tie as a decorative piece to adorn her favourite spider plant's pot. Then reality snapped back to her like an elastic-flinging machine fighting an angry snapping turtle, and she caught herself mumbling absently. "Ah, uh, sorry for rambling. I'm Velia Briar, nice to meet you!" Her hesitation was brief, but not invisible as she hastily glanced down at her gloved hands - as if to make sure they still existed - before offering one for a handshake. Velia tries to sort out her tent, when sudden character interactions with Nut 's Aster occur! Velia thanks him for securing her escaped merchandise, and introduces herself.
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