stop; i'm already dead. @adam-wcw - Tumblr Blog

eAe no one will be quiet and my concentration is shot ffs??

#Anna may I reply to this later/tomorrow?#I am so sorry #I swear I am enjoying them.#and you #always.#/ooc

Ellyn's lips thinned a fraction, wondering why her shadow was so interested in this man. He looked awfully sick.... Changeling she might be, suspicious and not a little cruel when push came to shove, but Ellyn was invested in other people's well-being. If Adam knew how many hungry people she fed free, he might not look as nervous. Ellyn's expression softened. "Bailiwick. Ah, area of interest. You're no trouble to me," she said, "Please, come in? Assistance is my bailiwick. Coffee on the house?"

There was a moment’s hesitation as Adam’s instincts told him to run. But she seemed–kind. If a bit out of place in a place such as this. She was…like someone had meticulously cut and pasted a paper doll from the Victorian era into the streets of San Francisco. She seemed poised; though–far from a flimsy doll. A doll with sharp edges.

Well, wasn’t that a noir concept.

“Ah–I don’t really drink…” A pause Bela Lugosi would’ve approved of. “Coffee. But–sure, I’ll come in…” He stretched a leg with care, hearing the joints creak, and glanced down, pausing with a squint. Were his eyes playing a trick on him or did there seem to be a shadow out of place down on the pavement? He shook off an uneasy sensation [doing so was always easy enough for the man whose emotions were dumped in a river a little ways back] and stepped forward, trying a smile. It hung like a drunk half-moon, but it was an attempt nonetheless.

“Thanks, though–” he took his smash-screened phone from his pocket with another grimace. “This thing basically only does work when plugged in…ah–I’m–” fuck. A name. He had to give her a name. Well, he didn’t have to, but heck, he was already here.

“Oz,” he offered vaguely. “I’m–I’m Oz.” Osiris.

ellyngolightly-wcw

If only she could train her shadow to heel. Ellyn eyed it and knew the little patch of darkness was being difficult on purpose. Oz, on the other hand, was not being difficult - just odd. Ellyn knew odd. Odd was rarely anything to fear, but it should be watched nonetheless.

Had she been privy to his thoughts, Ellyn would be pleased to know Oz thought her Victorian. Everyone expected people from the British Isles to be a bit Victorian. Despite being old when Victoria took the throne, affecting the prim, demure, industriousness of the era served Ellyn well.

Oz’s smile brought out the hint of a real smile to tug at the corner of Ellyn’s mouth, turning her prettiness into charm. “Like the wizard?” she asked. “I’m not a witch, good or bad. Just Ellyn.” She stashed the broom cozily behind a rustic display of wintry decorations that had no place in San Francisco: a sled, a pair of tired snow boots with fresh evergreen stuffed into them, an artistically battered snow shovel.

And there, on the door post just below eye level, was a small ankh in gold paint. It was between a circle and a stylized lily, and a half dozen other symbols marking the Farthest Field out as a place safe for the non-human population of the city. Ellyn held the door oprn but didn’t mention the signs. If Oz did’t know what they were she wasn’t about to tell him.

adam-wcw

Snorting faintly, “Oz” ran a hand through his hair and shrugged bony shoulders, his pale eyes darting toward the ground. “Nowhere near as magical. Or as much of a charlatan, thankfully...” Or he tried not to be, on that front. He smiled half-heartedly at Ellyn’s slight joke and rubbed an arm, absently picking at loose threads on his tattered sweatshirt. “Just Ellyn. Got it. S’a nice name though.” He glanced around Ellyn’s shop as he entered, eyes lingering on the darker edges of her domain. Far from Kansas indeed.

He paused, much harder, however, at the sight of the ankh, letting the golden image dance before his eyes. The dead man almost didn’t go further than where he stood rooted to the spot, reflecting on it--then the other symbols around it in the Field and the field of his vision, everything dancing in and out of focus as he turned from sigil to sigil.

“...Nice decor,” Adam offered as he sauntered in [the cautious slink of a stray cat making his way across the threshold], adjusting his hoodie strings. “Very, uh.” He tried to come u with something as grand and poised as Ellyn herself.

“Artsy.” Nailed it.

#sorry I am v distracted there is a lot of noise rn #/ooc

Ellyn's lips thinned a fraction, wondering why her shadow was so interested in this man. He looked awfully sick.... Changeling she might be, suspicious and not a little cruel when push came to shove, but Ellyn was invested in other people's well-being. If Adam knew how many hungry people she fed free, he might not look as nervous. Ellyn's expression softened. "Bailiwick. Ah, area of interest. You're no trouble to me," she said, "Please, come in? Assistance is my bailiwick. Coffee on the house?"

There was a moment’s hesitation as Adam’s instincts told him to run. But she seemed--kind. If a bit out of place in a place such as this. She was...like someone had meticulously cut and pasted a paper doll from the Victorian era into the streets of San Francisco. She seemed poised; though--far from a flimsy doll. A doll with sharp edges.

Well, wasn’t that a noir concept.

“Ah--I don’t really drink...” A pause Bela Lugosi would’ve approved of. “Coffee. But--sure, I’ll come in...” He stretched a leg with care, hearing the joints creak, and glanced down, pausing with a squint. Were his eyes playing a trick on him or did there seem to be a shadow out of place down on the pavement? He shook off an uneasy sensation [doing so was always easy enough for the man whose emotions were dumped in a river a little ways back] and stepped forward, trying a smile. It hung like a drunk half-moon, but it was an attempt nonetheless.

“Thanks, though--” he took his smash-screened phone from his pocket with another grimace. “This thing basically only does work when plugged in...ah--I’m--” fuck. A name. He had to give her a name. Well, he didn’t have to, but heck, he was already here.

“Oz,” he offered vaguely. “I’m--I’m Oz.” Osiris.

#ellyngolightly-wcw

"The Reeds? Clubs aren't my bailiwick, I'm sorry." The stranger half-yelled at her before removing his headphones, and Ellyn had changed her grip on the broom in case she needed to swing it. Now she relaxed her fingers. Slightly. Not that he looked much of a threat with his wasted slouching. Drugs, maybe? "Don't worry about the sweeping." Her shadow inspected his shoes; she spoke to keep his attention from it, nodding toward the shop door. "I've WiFi if you've a phone to search for a map."

“Baili--what?” Adam asked, furrowing his brow. Sometimes he had to wonder if the way his brain worked these days interfered with all forms of communication. His ashen features; emotionless save for the perpetually-stricken deer-in-the-headlights eyes he had remained unchanged. Gaze shifting across Ellyn’s face, the dead man shrugged; hunching a little in his hoodie, before rubbing the back of his hand against his nose and trying to appear as small as possible. His shoes; for the shadow’s benefit, were mismatched chucks--one red, one gray, spattered with rusty, crusty old stains and laced with spare shoelaces that didn’t quite line up. One shoelace may’ve in fact been twine.

“Ah--I don’t--I think I’ve been a pain enough as it is,” he added, lifting a hand scarred and desaturated in color, before quickly dropping it back to the front pocket of his hoodie. “I’m sure you have like--other chores. And paying customers, and--sorry.” It seemed to be his brain’s favorite word.

#ellyngolightly-wcw

Ellyn stood outside the Farthest Field with a broom in her hands, methodically sweeping the city's scurf of candy wrappers, cigarette butts, leaves, and miscellany from the sidewalk. She hummed to herself, happy in the moment. A young man - seemingly lost in thought or his music - came shuffling by and walked through her sweepings without noticing. Maybe she sighed more loudly than she'd thought, or maybe it was her shadow taking offence and swirling angrily around his feet, but he looked back.

Exhausted without feeling much of anything; with a side of fuck-it-all, Adam Fenuku adjusted one of the oversized headphones covering one ragged ear and paused, trying to figure out where he’d been heading. Thoughts, trying to fire along dead neural signals, started and stopped. His brain’s WiFi connection was spottier than a public train station’s, fading in and out between irrelevancies.

One such irrelevancies seemed to be treading in the way of a woman trying to go about her day. This realization caught up with him in the scent of sweat and something vaguely sweet that churned his stomach and dampened his mouth. The shuffling dead with his hood pulled high up over his head hesitated, then turned, finally trying to get his bearings.

Right, he’d been heading to...

“Excuse me--” too loud. He winced and removed his headphones, hood falling back to reveal a head half-buzzed and wide, haunted gray eyes, peering out of sunken sockets also vaguely gray in hue--or lackthereof.

“Sorry--excuse me, do...do you happen to know where--” he fished a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, frowning a little. “Th...the Reeds is? Are? It’s--a club. I think, ah--I thought it was nearby, and--” his gaze dropped from Ellyn to the ground, and he grimaced.

“And ah...sorry for--that, too. Th--I...” his voice trailed off, mumbling. “Clearly...need to wake up.”

#ellyngolightly-wcw

Anna idk if you sent anything yet, but if you didn’t, no pressure. \.v./ ?

#/ooc