Assisted by Reason

Ichabod Crane. Thirty-two. Writer by day, medium all of the time.

[assistedbyreason]

ICHABOD CRANE

“Novels aren’t just happy escapes; they are slivers of people’s souls, nailed to the pages, dripping ink from veins of wood pulp. Reading the right one at the right time can make all the difference.”

Nicknames: Pain in the ass (his publicist only, it’s a love/hate relationship really)

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Magic status: Medium

Nationality: American

Accent: Very New Yorker. Heavy Staten Island lilt to his words.

Height: 5’2

Build: Scrawny. Slightly toned but not overly muscular.

Complexion: Very, very pale. Like almost sickly pale.

Eye color: Dark brown, almost black.

Hair color/length/style: Dark brown, kept short yet always looks a little unkempt. Slightly greasy because he’s a man that doesn’t care so much about his appearance.

Tattoos/piercings/daily jewelry: Anatomical heart on his ribs, 2014 in roman numerals on his neck, grandfather’s pocketwatch

Occupation: best-selling author

Relationship Status: very much single

What would you find if you Googled them? His website first, instagram second, various links to his books, twitter, various interviews. 

What natives would know about them: he’s a best-selling author and is on vacation in Swynlake. Other: author, doesn’t outwardly flaunt the fact that he’s a medium but also doesn’t hide it. No one other than his publicist knows that his stories are influenced and often mirror the lives of some of the ghosts he’s helped pass on.

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: right uh

Ichabod: what did you need help with?

[boointhenight]

Boo: We're looking to get into contact with one of his relatives from about 200 years ago

Boo: We need some information we can't get any other way

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: You know you don’t always get what you’re looking for, right?

Ichabod: like if I do this it might not go the way you’re expecting it to

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: uh… okay?

Ichabod: what do you mean you have a client?

Ichabod: You realize I’m an author, right?

[boointhenight]

Boo: That's why I'm not asking the author, I'm asking the medium

Boo: Which is also why I said, if this isn't your thing it's no big deal

Boo: I know not everyone is comfortable with that

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: right uh

Ichabod: what did you need help with?

[boointhenight]

A Professional Text || Peek-A-Boo

Boo: Hey, this is a professional text Boo: If you don't want to do any medium work, no big deal, just let me know Boo: Otherwise I have a client

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: uh… okay?

Ichabod: what do you mean you have a client?

Ichabod: You realize I’m an author, right?

[assistedbyreason]

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[boointhenight]

The story itself was more interesting as she sipped at her glass of whiskey, one leg swinging back and forth absently where she was sitting on the couch.

"Eh, think 'm too Mundus for words. I can't ever hear any of that stuff unless there's magic along to help it out." She'd always kind of wishes she could do more and hear more, but she'd tested enough to know it was true.

"Huh. Is the alcohol thing just cause she's a teetotaler or is there something personal like her husband died of it?"

[assistedbyreason]

Y'know... he wasn't sure why Mrs. Albon disliked alcohol so much. It wasn't like he ever stopped to question it. Which, probably, was pretty shitty of him as a medium. He was supposed to help people pass through or whatever. But it had never once occurred to him to ask Mrs. Albon why she kept him wasting his money by having to replace his bottles any time she got in a mood.

So he shrugged at her question and took a sip of his own whiskey.

"Honestly? I never thought to ask. But she's never acted like this before. Might have to go back once things calm down and figure out what the hell is going on. Maybe burn some sage or palo santo. Clear out the room for a little bit at least."

[assistedbyreason]

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[boointhenight]

Boo knew that a lot of mediums had a rough go of it. Plenty of Mundus saw people who could talk to the dead as someone to be scared of, an 'enemy' who couldn't be trusted. A lot of mediums hid their abilities so they could lead lives free from the kind of judgement that often followed them.

She'd never been part of the group that was going to jduge them, and so mostly found this to be an interesting fact. if anything, she hoped it gave the a better shot at staying friends when she got into all of her shit.

"Cool. What got her that riled up?"

[assistedbyreason]

Her reaction was... lackluster. Ichabod was used to people either freaking out and calling him a demon or immediately demanding he talk to someone they lost. Very rarely were people just so blase about his magical status. He appreciated it. More than he would voice now.

He shrugged at her question, drumming his fingers against his leg almost anxiously. "Her husband. At first. M'surprised yous didn't hear her moanin' and wailin'." He huffed before sighing. "I tried t'distract her with alcohol. She fuckin' hates it. Throws a tantrum anytime I bring some home. Sent her off the deep end tonight."

[assistedbyreason]

I Know What We're Going to Do Today || Queen of the Damned

[labellerose-acheron]

It wasn't ignorant, really. Just--unprepared. Belle wondered if this was some whim of some rich author. Yes, he was a good author, but she did still wonder if the fame hadn't gone to his head, just a little bit. Just enough to think he didn't have to do any research before planning an event.

"Well, I wouldn't say charities, per se, but there are lots of great programs in Swynlake. Town Hall has several that support the arts. PrideU has scholarships. InterPride has several endowments and foundations they support. There is the small business coalition and the cathedral runs a kitchen for those who don't have as much food as they should."

"As for charities outside of Swynlake, there are obviously several of those as well. I trust I can leave it up to you to find one? I think we would be happy to host something that supports those things, as we have a very strong stance on Magicks that...as you say...get a 'bad rap'. Hades, himself, is a medium and a pyrokinetic."

"We're mediums too!" Aidan said, puffing his chest out proudly.

[assistedbyreason]

For a brief moment, Ichabod felt like a little boy getting chided for not being prepared. Not that Belle was speaking to him in any sort of way. Just listing off the things that Swynlake had that he wasn't fully aware of. There were so many things and he didn't even know where to begin. He was quickly coming to love Swynlake and all its charm. Anything he did to raise money, he wanted to give back to the town. But it also let him know where he could help outside of this.

"Those are all... Just wow. I didn't realize there was so much going on in this town. I'd love to help all of them, really."

His attention was stolen then by the whole medium declaration. Hades was one. The two boys here were. Was Belle? Should Ichabod reveal his own status? He didn't have the chance to as one of the ghosts he'd encountered the last time he was here appeared and huffed. "So is he."

Ichabod, to his credit, only paled a little bit before giving a shaky little laugh. "Uh yeah. I mean. That'd be a good charity to split the funds with. M'sure I can find a charity or somethin'."

[thedipster]

assistedbyreason​:

thedipster​:

Ichabod also felt a certain pull to the forest. Though he wasn’t sure why at all. There was just something there that called to him in the late hours of the night. Even as the paths twisted and turned and took him down paths he wasn’t sure of. He explored when he didn’t feel like fighting the urge with visits to The Court and to see Wendy.

“The Great Prince…” He trailed off, unsure what to make of that. He wasn’t sure what that meant. He’d never run into anyone else in the forest before other than the formless glowing lights that had warned him.

“I’ve heard of Will-O-Wisps. The little old ladies that used t’ watch me when I was a kid would tell stories about them. Try t'scare us from going into the woods on the outskirts of town. Never once ran into them though. Kinda disappointing back then. Now I think m'okay with it. Woulda been scary as hell back then.”

-

“Yeah, I can’t exactly advise running into a deep dark forest as a young kid,” laughed Dipper.

Which, of course, went beyond just good advice — it was personal. A lotta things would be different in his life if Grunkle Stan hadn’t been so cavalier about what he and Mabel got up to that summer.

But, then again, he wouldn’t be in Swynlake if that were the case. 

“But, uh, full disclaimer, we’ve got some demon activity in these woods,” he added, since that felt like the responsible and moral thing to do. “Just by the cave though! So if you stay clear of that, you should be good. It’s blocked off now anyway.”

[assistedbyreason]

Well shit. That certainly made his late night ventures a bit more dangerous and concerning. It also made the warning from the glowing eyes that much more ominous. Maybe he should stay clear of the forest. Or at least pay more attention to where the paths were taking him. So far they hadn't steered him into any harm. Maybe the forest was looking out for him or for itself.

Whatever the case, Ichabod made a mental note to be a little bit more wary.

"Shit. Seriously?" He shook his head with a low whistle. "Kinda glad I ain't gone that far into it." He'd most likely end up looking into that. Just to get a better idea of what happened and if there were any lingering issues there. Curiosity and all.

"Thanks, though. For the heads up. I ain't seen anything like that on the pamphlets."

[zerohallows]

"Maybe, it's a little harder than that for me though." Zero admitted, which was where his thoughts had been lately, tipping back and forth with a disjointed jumble that hadn't really been there for years, and never for that reason. Art had never felt like anything but his own, something that allowed him to sort out his thoughts, to feel just a little more than he might on most days, and that had always been fine. But that seemed a bit childish lately as he realized it wasn't just him, wasn't just something he viewed as valid; other people paid attention.

One of his dads was, by most accounts, a well known musician, what came natural to him he shared and it made him happier. Zero had always assumed what came naturally to a faerie was their Talent; but his ability to cause destruction didn't bring him the same peace as art did. It was still perplexing, actually.

At the question though, he nodded, "I did, very interesting, actually." And he left it at that because it was obvious and Ichabod wasn't quick to jump at the chance to coax praise for his work. That said something about a person and marked the difference between someone who created for gain and someone who created because they needed to root what was inside them somewhere the world could share it, and hold some of the burden as well.

Ichabod didn't write pretty stories; he wrote ones that needed to be told, and sometimes that just wasn't as pretty. But, talent was talent; Zero could appreciate that, and just wonder what went on inside his head.

Curiosity was universal, but it could be patient too.

"I always get the feeling that whatever goes on in a person's head is where the actual story is." He mused, with writing, art, any sort of creative expression; some people had a different view of the world.

And, case in point, he retrieved his bag and the old sketchbook from within it; Zero didn't believe art made mistakes really, flaws were part of the design, so he wasn't uncomfortable with people seeing his work, even the rough bits. So he didn't pick or choose, simply held it out to Ichabod; pages filled with lines, ink and ash, bold and intricate and, true, just a bit dark at their core with images of nature lapsed into decay and time's hand on everything down to bone.

But Zero saw nothing terrible in thing like that. No more than he did the creatures he had known in deep corners of ancient forests inked on the starchy pages; too often people called such things frightening, strange, but he had known them only as part of the world, and in most cases friends to be missed.

[assistedbyreason]

In their other brief conversations, Zero had been the one asking the questions, prying for information without really prying for it. Now, though, Ichabod felt that burning curiosity. He wanted to know more about this interesting being next to him. Wanted to pry into those very vague answers he was giving in response.

"How come?" He blurted the question without really thinking about it. Did he not think his work was good enough? Zero didn't seem like the type to be worried about what others thought. At least that was the vibe that he gave off. Everything seemed to be subjective with him. Everyone had their own opinion and if it didn't jive with him then that was fine.

But then he was being handed the sketchbook and the curiosity for that overtook anything else he was curious about. Carefully he flipped through the pages, taking in the dark splotches and harsh lines. There was something there in those images that struck something in him.

The pictures felt familiar. The darkness in them speaking to him in a way that nothing had really spoken to him before. It reminded him of his books. There was a truth in his books that some people didn't get but for the ones that did understand it and get it... it was like being slapped in the face.

"These are... really good," he commented as he slowly turned another page. The creature that stared back at him was monstrous, almost terrifying. "Is this-- Is this a real creature? Or something from your imagination?"

[assistedbyreason]

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[boointhenight]

The whiskey in her apartment wasn't top shelf by any means, but it wasn't complete garbage and it was stronger than the water. She poured generously for both of them before handing one over to him and taking a seat on one side of the ugly couch.

"It's fine. Believe me, I've seen a lot worse." Not that she'd actually seen what was probably a ghost, but that wasn't the point. Demons were messier.

"'K, this is probably going to sound rude. But. Are you a medium? It sounded like you were talking to her."

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod wanted to question her on that. She'd seen worse. What did that mean? And again, who exactly was his neighbor? But he didn't get the chance as she moved to question him directly.

He took a long sip of his drink, whiskey thank God, before sighing gently. He figured someone would figure it out eventually. Not that he actually hid it too much. Just like his sexuality, he just didn't flaunt it all over the place. Didn't feel the need to.

".... Yeah, right on the money, really," he nodded, resting his glass on his knee. "Been a minute since I've had one as feisty as Mrs. Albon though. She's.. temperamental."

[tirameunpaso-felix]

I'm your biggest fan || Fixabod

[tirameunpaso-felix]

@assistedbyreason

It was still way too cold to be eating his lunches outside and yet, Félix persisted. By his reasoning the weather had to warm up soon, and sometimes if he managed to find a spot in the sun, he didn't shiver at all! Also it was sort of an exposure therapy, in a way. How long had he lived in Swynlake now and he still struggled with the long winters. If he could just sit outside for an hour or so a day maybe he would grow some kind of second skin or something...

Today he was sat out the front of Hatter's reading his book, his panini stone cold on the table in front of him, but that was alright. He was too engrossed in the book anyways-- Black Town was exactly as described on the cover, gritty and gripping and enough to keep Félix's attention away from his sandwich. He turned the page, looking up when he spied a particularly fat sparrow hopping closer. He had a feeling it would try to steal a bite, or the whole sandwich, if he gave it half a chance.

Whilst he was giving it a stern look - that tended to work with Antonio's pets - he noticed a face just coming out of the shop. A face he recognised, even more so if he flicked to the back of the book he was holding and looked at the author's picture. Félix did a double take; he knew Ichabod Crane was in town but he had yet to see him for himself! And whilst Félix wasn't a super fan or anything, he had been super excited to get the new book for Christmas, and he was even more excited to see the man in the flesh!

Springing from his seat and abandoning his sandwich all together Félix stood, and then scurried up to Ichabod as fast he could. "Excuse me, señor! Sorry to bother you, honestly, but-- I'm a huge fan. Could you sign my book?"

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod was... exhausted. While his little friend hadn't been around in a while and he had certainly made up for it the night prior. Probably because he had been alone; he'd skipped out on visiting the Court and Wendy had been working. It was a rare thing, really, and Ichabod was reminded again why he tried to find things to do in those hours.

But it was a new day and he had a routine to get back to. Or at least attempt to get back to.

One that started with his morning coffee from Hatter's. He'd come to enjoy the spot and how quiet it was in the morning. He could easily find a table in a corner to drink his coffee and sort of wake up with the rest of the town in peace.

Which is exactly what he did. Finishing the final dregs of his coffee, he gave a small wave to the barista before sticking a few bills in the tip jar and heading out the door. His plan was to head through the park for a quick walk through one of the trails before meeting up with Wendy for lunch but then someone was calling him and he smiled as he looked over at the man.

"Oh. Shit... yeah, I can do that. D'yous got a pen?"

[assistedbyreason]

I Know What We're Going to Do Today || Queen of the Damned

[labellerose-acheron]

"Oh, Ma--Mrs. Acheron! We should totally do that!" Aidan, not dissuaded by his mother's gentle chiding galloped over to stand at his mother's shoulder, grinning broadly at the author. He leaned forward on his toes slightly.

Belle sighed, putting her hand on Aidan's shoulder and squeezing lightly so he'd relax. She didn't have any intention of saying no, but it wasn't quite so simple. And, also, Aidan should no better than to get too close to an author. He was from the future, after all, there were all sorts of ways that he could mess up Mr. Crane's career.

"I think that is a lovely idea," Belle smiled gently at the author. She had read his books, of course, though never one to study a dust jacket, she had had no idea who he was when meeting him a few weeks ago at the coffee shop. Since then, she had also been rather excited to run into him again and was glad he was here. In her bookshoppe! A proper author!

"I would have to discuss it with the co-owner, of course, but I don't foresee any real issues." Her husband, of course, but she didn't always feel the need to say such.

"Do you have any charities in mind?"

[assistedbyreason]

Well, Ichabod was really glad that Belle thought it was a good idea. He hated having to sell ideas to people. He felt he often rambled on and sometimes (most times) lost sight of the whole point of whatever he was trying to sell. It was hard enough having to sell his latest ideas to his publishers.

The mention of the co-owner made him nod. "Hades... right?" He liked the fellow well enough, though he hadn't seen him the few times he'd stopped in. Which was fine. He had no idea how he managed running Chapter Three and handling his duties as Mayor.

"I don't really have anything in mind. Something for the town. Does Swynlake have charities for anything?" He asked this before shaking his head. "M'sorry, I know that probably sounds really... ignorant of me. Not havin' any idea before comin' to yous. I can say, for sure, I'd love for the money t'go to somethin' that the town really needs. Do an even split for that and then a charity that helps Magicks that get a bad rap?"

[thedipster]

assistedbyreason​:

To his credit, Ichabod only chuckled a very little bit. He’d heard from a few people already that Swynlake was a good town. Not too many said that it was anything less. Of course, they had mentioned a few of the recurring disasters but Ichabod felt he could probably handle those. How bad could they possibly be?

“Ah, yeah, I’ve ventured into the forest a bit. It’s… actually really nice. Calming sort of. M'not much of a hiker but the paths I’ve taken haven’t been too challenging.” He sat down another object he’d been look at before turning his attention back to Dipper. “It’s supposed to be some sorta magical place, ain’t? Twisty and turny for people who don’t have good intentions or somethin’?”

–

For someone who had so many bad memories associated with forests — associated with this forest in particular, too — Dipper kept finding himself coming back to it. 

There was something about the deep dark woods that he felt comfortable with. He liked hiking. He liked being swallowed up by ancient trees, being so old that they remembered the time of knights, the times before even that. 

“That’s the story, at least,” said Dipper. “Though there’s definitely some truth to it. The Great Prince controls the paths, though I’m not sure how much of people’s intentions he can actually know. But there’s other things in the forest that might…” His voice trailed off a little here. “Like the Will-O-Wisps — apparently they lead you off the path, but to what your heart truly desires. They’re really rare, though.”

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod also felt a certain pull to the forest. Though he wasn't sure why at all. There was just something there that called to him in the late hours of the night. Even as the paths twisted and turned and took him down paths he wasn't sure of. He explored when he didn't feel like fighting the urge with visits to The Court and to see Wendy.

"The Great Prince..." He trailed off, unsure what to make of that. He wasn't sure what that meant. He'd never run into anyone else in the forest before other than the formless glowing lights that had warned him.

"I've heard of Will-O-Wisps. The little old ladies that used t' watch me when I was a kid would tell stories about them. Try t'scare us from going into the woods on the outskirts of town. Never once ran into them though. Kinda disappointing back then. Now I think m'okay with it. Woulda been scary as hell back then."

[wilde-fun]

Nick waved off the offer, although he appreciated it. If Ichabod had been here an hour earlier, that would be a different story of course. He'd have happily put someone else to work to get out of some himself. But by now, it was all done so he could afford to look magnanimous.

"We're all good here, just enjoying the spoils so far," he held up the book he was reading himself.

Nodding to the volume in Ichabod's hands, he said, "That's a good one. It' about time too."

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod gave a small nod at that, noting the book that he was reading but finding himself unfamiliar with it. "Looks interesting, what's it about?" he hummed, flipping through a few pages of the comic. "Took them long enough to even think to put these two together. I dunno why they ever thought it was a good idea to glorify a relationship as toxic as Harley and Joker. I mean, I'm a fan of the Joker but not the whole relationship thing."

[haveyoumet-dolores]

"You should meet Ting-Ting and Jun. They are both my Stardew Valley buddies. And I know Al McWiggin plays as well. He's Jun's friend." And Lo went out with him once but it hadn't sparked in the same way she wanted it to.

But that didn't mean she wasn't still going to count him as a friend.

"Is this where I admit I'm fluent in 6 and I'm currently learning a new one?"

[assistedbyreason]

"Jun.... He's the one that does Wordle too, right?" See? He was trying to get to know people. Even if a lot of it was through twitter where things were more impersonal but it was fine! He'd met Dolores that way and now here they were talking in Chapter Three in person. "And Al owns the Comic Barn, right? I've been told by a few people that I should talk with him. He sounds like a good guy."

At the mention of how many languages she knew, Ichabod's eyebrows rose to incredible heights. That was more than impressive, actually. He didn't know anyone that knew that many languages. "Well I'd say you're showing off if I didn't know you," he laughed. "But honestly. That's impressive. What languages do you know? Which one could you possibly be learning?"

[winndeavor]

@assistedbyreason

Ichabod laughs and Winston grins back at him. He knew that he was right, that Ichabod was not probably a big runner, particularly as a runner, but Win wasn't going to be pushing him to an uncomfortable pace, either. Keeping pace wasn't hard once you had practice at it. And if Ichabod needed an excuse to get out of the house and/or away from whatever it was he was doing then, well, that was alright by Winston, too.

Nodding approvingly, Winston made sure to grab his in hand, stowing the key to his flat in a little pocket on his bicep for safekeeping. No, he did not want to lose his house keys on a run. Yes, he had done it before.

A snort escapes at the flower comment, but he nods again at that, too.

"Sure we can. An' we can walk an' run, too. Don't have to speed through the trail. 'S a nice day out, so the weather should hold."

[assistedbyreason]

"Yous know, all the media ever says about England is that it's dismal and gray and rainy but I feel like there's been a ton more sunny days than anything else." Which had surprised him. He was expecting some gloomy Victorian movie backdrop when he'd first come to Swynlake.

He was glad it wasn't.

"Thanks again. For humorin' me and all by the way. Dunno if I said that before." He spoke easily as he started off down one of the trails he was familiar with. "Cuz yous right. We coulda easily gone and gotten some tea or somethin' from Hatters. S'just somethin' about bein' out here that's calmin' and like opens up the mind or whatever."

[assistedbyreason]

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[boointhenight]

"Even better, I've got a bottle up in my room. It'll be quieter there. Come on."

She glanced once more at the now closed door before leading him up to her place. Whatever was going on, she figured it would be better not to try and talk about it in the middle of a crowded club. Plus she couldn't really afford another night out at Pixie's.

She knew the room didn't look like much. The living room had a large ugly comfortable couch, perfect for napping, and a poster of a kitten with bat wings tacked to the wall. Otherwise, it was bare. 

Boo dropped her bag just inside the door and headed into the clean kitchen to grab some glasses.

[assistedbyreason]

"Perfect."

Ichabod enjoyed Pixies, though as of recently his tastes had been more towards the liking of The Court (though that was mostly because of Wendy). But after a ghostly encounter like the one he'd just had something quiet was much more preferred.

Mary's room was... more than minimalist. It seemed barren. No personality whatsoever, really. It made Ichabod wonder about his neighbor. What kind of person was she really? Why did he always seem to run into her at night?

"M'sorry yous had t'witness whatever it was yous saw from all that. My, uh, ghostly roommate is having a time it seems."