omnia mors aequat

Lost and Found || Open

#p: lost and found #p: lee

wild-lee:

“I’m from Hopedale. It’s a little ways down south of New Orleans,” she replied. Her town was small, even by small town standards, but the people who lived there were some of the nicest people she’d ever met, and that more than made up for its size. “Well, I originally wanted to be a mathematician, but lately I been thinking about being a teacher. I haven’t quite decided yet though.”

“Hopedale? Can’t say I’ve heard of it,” he said, offering a slightly apologetic smile. “It must be very small, indeed. Is it on the map?” His own hometown only made it on the most elaborate of them, and even then it was something of a miracle to see it. He didn’t doubt that most people didn’t think of it as a real place at all -- not that he particularly minded. The fewer that knew the location of his community, the better. “A teacher? A noble profession as any. Any thought to which subject you might want to teach?”

prodicy

Dark Side ;; Greg & Cyrus

#P: Dark Side #p: cyrus #shhhhhh its perf

prodicy:

Cyrus felt all the ink on his body and near his body rush to his hands, familiar and disgusting claws forming as muscle memory. He turned on his heels slowly just to come face to face with his worst nightmare. Only in his dreams had Cyrus imagined ever running into Greg again. He wanted to melt right there, but he couldn’t. Instead, he just made a push to cover his hands to hide the claws. “I-I thought– you’re a sick man,” he huffed out, “I can’t believe you. I left, you let me leave, you promised… You promised you wouldn’t do this. What the fuck, Greg?”

Just before Cyrus had managed to hide his situation, Greg noticed the familiar flash of claws on his hands -- even if he wanted to pretend otherwise, his subconscious proved that he remembered everything that they’d done. “Promised I wouldn’t do what, come and visit?” he asked, his tone just as soft and pleasant as ever -- almost eerily so. “I happened to be in town and decided to pay a visit to the both of you.” It was half a lie, but he wasn’t particularly interested in whether Cyrus believed him or not. Regardless of the boy’s current personal feelings, Gregory knew that they were subject to change... especially if he helped things along. “It’s good to see you,” he continued, smiling brightly. “You look good. More... content with yourself.”

Good Ole Catholic Showdown || Kaden & Greg

#p: good ol' catholic throwdown #p: kaden

agentxvalentine:

Kaden’s struggling only increased once the sharp, curved, and bloody blade entered his field of perfect vision. However, once the sickle hovered over him, his movements stopped abruptly, his green eyes went wide, staring down at the intimidating weapon, and his face paled. He dared not to move a muscle as the blade sliced through his shirt in fear that it would cut into his skin.

It was the pastor’s voice that caused his frozen form to shudder ever so slightly––although that was more likely from his torso now being exposed to the cool air. “Good guess, Sherlock,” he snorted, finding some of his defiance once again in that moment. C.A.R.M.A had turned him into what he was today, among a few others. It had been a long, and momentarily painful process to achieve these new abilities, but the end result was worth it, in Kaden’s opinion. A mere human––no matter how well trained––couldn’t possibly go up against a Metahuman like this with even the slightest chance of survival. It wasn’t an insult, it was the truth from what the agent had observed in these last few minutes. At least his super soldier abilities would (hopefully) give him a little more hope of staying alive.

“Trust me, I plan on surviving for as long as I need to,” he answered the other. “Which will be long enough to see you dead as I walk out of here.”

Gregory laughed in the face of Kaden’s defiance, the sound bouncing off the walls of the cathedral almost eerily. “I wouldn’t call it a guess,” he answered, turning the empty sockets in his mask toward the helpless man. “I have an approximate knowledge of many things, including the fact that you’re more than meets the eye.” He wasn’t exactly impressive or gifted by his own standards, but he could survive much more efficiently than a normal, run-of-the-mill human. However, unless CARMA sent someone who could handle an entire group of metahumans ( ones with experience in combat, at that ) it was unlikely that even he could survive this.

Not without a miracle.

“How many people do you suppose have tried to kill me, agent?” he asked lightly, silently calling forth another member of their circle, this time an older metahuman with a horse-skull mask. “I’ve heard this before.” He didn’t bother to illuminate the fact that none had succeeded -- it was obvious by the fact that he was standing above him, alive and well. His activities had gained him many enemies over the years, and while enough people had made it their mission to end his life, there’d never been anyone he hadn’t easily dispatched of. Even without the help of his twisted family, he was a formidable opponent -- and he knew that quite well. “I’m afraid the odds are against you leaving here alive, though I’m sure you’ve begun to work that out for yourself.”

Lost and Found || Open

#p: lee #p: lost and found

wild-lee:

Lee’s temper couldn’t hold, and she broke into a smile. “I guess that makes two of us. I grew up in a town that had maybe 200 people, so comin’ here was probably the biggest shock of my life.” Of course she’d known that cities could be big, and she’d made trips to New Orleans, but Pansaw was bigger and more modern than anything she’d ever seen. “Oh yeah, I like the university a lot. They got a great crowd down there, and some real good professors. What are your kids majorin’ in? Maybe I got some classes with them.”

“Only two-hundred? What town are you from?” he asked, pleased to find someone who’d grown up under similar circumstances. “My hometown had less than a thousand, myself.” He didn’t remember the exact numbers anymore, especially since his current living situation wasn’t technically in a town -- it was just outside of one, in an unpopulated area. Perfect for building a community. “I’m glad to hear that you’re enjoying it,” he replied politely, his own smile widening at the mention of his own so-called kids. “They’re both majoring in pre-med. I’m very proud. How about yourself? What do you plan to do once you’re out of school?”

Good Ole Catholic Showdown || Kaden & Greg

#p: good ol' catholic throwdown #p: kaden

agentxvalentine:

Kaden shot a harsh glare at the cult leader as he continued to squirm and writhe on the bloody altar. God, he was going to have to do some serious laundry after this with the blood on his clothes––assuming he even got out of this alive. Judging by the scene he walked in on only minutes before, it seemed like a pretty good chance that the odds were very much against him here. He just hoped that maybe his enhanced healing would give him some capability to withstand those odds until proper back up came. Maybe.

“Sounds fucking great,” he muttered sarcastically, unable to resist a dramatic eye roll. Geez, these guys were creepy with everything they did. He had no idea what to expect here, but if they were planning on keeping him alive for another hour, surely they weren’t going to start off by burning him like the last victim. The bloody altar proved to him that there would be a few rounds before getting lit up, and multiple horrific ideas of what was possibly going to happen to him ran through his mind. As much as he wanted to be, he was never blind to the dark side of C.A.R.M.A with their torture tactics (often called “interrogation” sometimes) on some of the prisoners. It had to be irony that he was now going to be on the receiving end of such actions from these cloak and dagger assholes. It was terrifying. The panic was coursing through him, despite the fairly neutral, if not concentrated, expression as he increased his fight against the thick and heavy chains. Damn, why didn’t he get the enhanced strength? “Really. Fuckin’. Great.”

If Gregory noticed Kaden’s glare, he didn’t make any indication of it. Of course, it was perfectly natural for him to find the situation displeasing, given his current status as another offering laid bare across the altar -- most sacrifices weren’t grateful for the opportunity. The few that were came from a particularly loyal part of his community, those who’d gleefully taken lives in his ( and their gods’ ) name and would eagerly give their own for the cause. Kaden, who’d made an enemy of his so-called family, was obviously no such man -- not that it mattered. His religion didn’t call for a willing sacrifice; if they rejected purity, it was well within the realms of his twisted ‘morality’ to force it upon them all the same. Anything else was blasphemy.

Amusement flickered in his eerie gaze as the agent spoke, though it was the only acknowledgement he gave. After a moment he turned to one of the other skull-masked ( and silent ) members of his circle, leaning in to whisper something to them. As soon as he leaned back the younger person stepped forward, a blood-soaked sickle clasped in their hand. In a slow, purposeful movement, they lowered the blade to cut through Kaden’s shirt, dragging it carefully as to not break through his skin -- at least, for the moment.

“Tell me, agent,” the pastor spoke up, giving the person who’d approached a quick glance and causing them to retreat back into the shadows of the circle, “how long do you think you can survive? You’re clearly capable of feats beyond normal human capacity, but I don’t think I’ve yet had the pleasure to meet someone... synthetically gifted.” Without so much as lifting a finger, the tattered remains of the other man’s shirt retreated from the alter, piling themselves onto the floor. “I’m assuming the organization you work for created you.”

Lost and Found || Open

#p: lost and found #p: lee

wild-lee:

“Yeah, I’m sure they were. Playing cute ain’t gonna get you out trouble that easy,” Lee scolded, making a mental note to ground them when they got home. Not that they could really be grounded, considering they hardly left the base, but she’d do her best. “Oh, for sure,” she agreed, looking back up at the man. “When I first got here, it took me near a month to figure out where all my classes were down at the campus. And don’t even get me started on the rest of the city.”

He chuckled softly as their mother scolded them, knowing that it was more than likely they were in for some proper discipline when they got home -- wherever home happened to be. Hopefully that would discourage them from wandering off in the future. While he wasn’t a danger ( at least, not to them in particular ), Pansaw was far from a safe haven. “I’m still learning the ins and outs myself,” he admitted with a smile, “it’s a much larger city than I’m used to.” While Nebraska had its fair share, he’d become accustomed to the community he’d built in one of its smaller towns. “Do you enjoy your classes down at the college? I have a few children there, myself, and they say it’s a better experience than they’d thought it would be.”

irlclairvoyant:

“It’s sneaking if you’re creeping like you were,” Teddy shrugged, without turning around to look at the man. They didn’t need to look at him to know what he looked like after all. They would have to look at him to fully see his aura, but the bubbling red they could see out of the corner of their eyes was enough to tell them they didn’t want to know more about it. Their skin was already crawling because of it. “More like I’m waiting for a mission, but I guess that’s one itself,” they hummed softly.

Teddy didn’t want to share more about themself with this man, he was being nosey in business that really wasn’t his. Between that and how uncomfortable they already were from his presence, their fingers curled tighter around the handle of their baseball bat, getting ready to hit him in the shins. “I’ve got many gifts,“ they said, their voice is soft but the harsh edge in it is obvious enough.

“I think creeping requires more intention,” he stated, his voice as cool and soft ( and eerie ) as the night air. “Naturally, we don’t go stomping about at this hour.” It could be dangerous for the common folk, those that couldn’t defend themselves in the same ways that he ( and others like him ) could, but he himself saw no reason to skulk in the shadows -- none that weren’t sinister in nature, that was. Tonight, with the rest of his family tucked away into their various living situations, no such intentions came to mind. That would wait for a better night, one where the moon was brighter and the smog of the city thinner and less strangling.

The word mission piqued his interest, though it didn’t show in his expression. “A mission? Quite a purpose, indeed,” he replied, wondering briefly if he could chance another question. They weren’t exactly forthcoming, and while he did have some sway with his gifts, mind control was unfortunately not among his many talents. “I’m not surprised. You seem capable,” he said, his eyes flickering briefly down to the bat clutched in their hands. Tread carefully, it seemed to say -- not that he was prone to following suit.

#c: teddy

chanhyeok-byeol

Not What It Looks Like || Gregory & Chan-bye

#p: byeol #p: not what it looks like

chanhyeok-byeol:

Chan-bye couldn’t help his curiosity as he picked up a few items, wondering what they were. Only to whip his head around, and stare up with wide guilty eyes; and just stared. Not really knowing what else to do, he merely accepted the hand to pull himself up. “I’m sorry….I just…I was, I uh…didn’t…sorry.” Byeol apologized, and as soon as the man bent down to pick up the rest of the objects knocked over; the young rebel scout was rushing back to the ground, to help clean up again.

“Please! I can help! It’s my fault, I should have been looking where I was going, and I shouldn’t have been wandering around your campsite, and–” He cut off, taking a second to actually breathe, and then starting up again. “Oh…yeah, I’m fine…it uhm…it doesn’t hurt too much.” With his enhanced endurance, it would take numerous trips into the table, for him to actually feel any of the pain. “Uhm…so..what is all of this? Not to be like nosey! But! Uhm…it looks like super cool. Is it like…wizard stuff…are you…a wizard? Cause if you are….can you like…show to me a spell? Or…can you tell me my fortune? I love divination, and have like tarot cards and everything! I’m really good with them, and I could totally show you sometime, and….well…yeah, you know.” Byeol finished looking up smiling, and eyes shining with excitement.

His amused smile didn’t falter as the younger man apologized, and he waved it away with a quick flick of his wrist. “You really don’t need to apologize, I promise,” he answered kindly, helping him to his feet. “Accidents happen, and as far as I can see, you didn’t break anything.” Not that it would’ve been particularly bothersome if he had -- the objects in question, while old, were either easily fixed or easily replaced. Anything less was foolish to have out in the open, regardless of the confidence that they wouldn’t be discovered for what they truly were. He hesitated as the stranger dove back to help with his ritualistic items, unease washing through him for a moment before he finally shoved it aside. It was unlikely anyone’s first thought would be sacrificial supplies and in such a case, he felt that this man would be easily disposed of.

“Calm down,” he said, his voice soothing, “you’re not in any trouble. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. This is public property, is it not? I would be foolish not to expect the occasional visitor.” There was something hopelessly neurotic about this stranger, but being the patient man he was, he didn’t allow it to bother him much. The less stable were much more likely to be sympathetic to his cause -- should the desire to chance enlightening him arise -- and tended not to report anything they couldn’t understand. Case in point: the almost ridiculous amount of questions that scattered from the younger man’s mouth. “A wizard?” he repeated, chuckling softly. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m a man of God. Witchcraft is frowned upon in the Church, at least for those of us who take it upon ourselves to teach to others.” Not exactly an answer, but it wasn’t technically a lie -- by day he was certainly seen as a friendly, well-to-do pastor of the local church. “But I have no problem with watching someone else perform it. Is it a hobby for you?”

Lost and Found || Open

#p: lost and found #p: lee

wild-lee:

There was only one thing Lee feared more than CARMA, and that was loosing their kids. Now, it seemed like that fear was coming true. She’d turned around for just one second and when she looked back, Ivy and Jackson had disappeared into the city. Immediately, Lee’s mind flew into panic mode. What if they’d been kidnapped? What if they’d run off and got hurt? She frantically scanned the crowd, trying to see through the crowds. “Ivy! Jackson!” she shouted, but her voice seemed lost among the noise of the city. After what seemed like an eternity of walking around and calling, Lee spotted them with someone and dashed over. As soon as she reached them, Lee knelt down to their level, torn between anger and relief. “Jesus, don’t you two even run off like that again, you hear me?” When the two nodded, she hugged them tightly and looked up at the person who’d found them. “Thank you. I don’t they didn’t cause no trouble.”

He’d been on his way to his church when he came across the lost children, and as the paragon of goodness he made himself out to be, he offered to help them find their missing parent. With his particular abilities, it wasn’t difficult to come up with some idea of what their parent might looks like, but before he could do much more than reassure them, their mother seemed to happen upon the scene. He stepped back and adjusted his collar as she scolded them for running off, offering a warm smile as she addressed him. “Nothing of the sort,” he assured them, “they seem well behaved.” At least, as well-behaved as children could be, given how they’d found him in the first place. Nothing discipline could fix with time. “Pansaw is easy to get lost in, though, isn’t it?"

irlclairvoyant:

Teddy had never been out on patrol on their own before, but it was the Summer of new things (and forgetting old things). Oracle was supposed to become a more prevalent force on the Hero Squad. They were going to be showing up places before crimes happened, beating up assholes, and… Maybe taking names. They’re still not sure if they’re supposed to do that or not.

But they were out on patrol, decked head to toe in their sweet, sweet Oracle outfit, baseball bat in hand. They weren’t anywhere they could be seen though, or at least they had thought they were pretty hidden. They were perched on a fire escape in Lompico, with their eyes closed and legs crossed in a fancy yoga position. It was a cheesy trick they had learned, but whatever helped, right?

The yoga kept them centered, it helped their visions be clearer when they wanted them to be as clear as possible, to fight crime of course. Or to make sure Josh was doing okay. But right now… Crime fighting was the most important thing. The streets were relatively inactive though, the only thing that seemed to be coming up again… And again… And again… Was a figure creeping up on Teddy to scare them.

“Y’know,” Teddy finally said out loud. “It’s a really bad idea to try and sneak up on a clairvoyant that has a baseball bat.”

“I wasn’t aware I was sneaking up on you,” he said with amusement obvious in his tone, leaning against the fire escape he’d wandered up. It didn’t belong to him, of course, but the life form sitting atop it was too interesting to pass up. As he’d gotten closer to them, their meta status had been revealed -- from more than just words -- and had he wished it he could’ve grasped any and all information on their physical and mental well-being. Despite his gifts, he more often preferred to actually converse with people ( particularly those who had a decent chance of being pure ) rather than rely on his mutation, and thus instead of reaching out to gather information he’d decided to make his presence more obvious. A kinder gesture, truly.

He glanced down at them, a curious glint in his eyes. “You look like someone on a mission,” he remarked casually, looking over their costume-esque gear. “Am I wrong?” He doubted he was, but without them claiming their purpose there wasn’t much he could do but assume -- it was something he was good at, but nothing was infallible. Especially not when it came to something as uncertain as purpose, a lesson he’d long since taken to heart. After a moment’s pause, he continued with, “Is clairvoyance the only gift you have?” While he wasn’t out on a recruitment mission, he always did like to have an idea on the metahumans he was dealing with, especially when it came to people with so much potential.

#c: teddy #;^)

Good Ole Catholic Showdown || Kaden & Greg

#p: kaden #p: good ol' catholic throwdown

agentxvalentine:

Kaden’s face was completely smug for just a moment when he managed to crack the boney mask with his punch. Unfortunately, that smugness didn’t last very long as Gregory’s mask repaired itself back to perfection. “What the hell…” he muttered. He didn’t have much time to be standing there in shock over such a small thing because now he had another dilemma to deal with.

“Hey––” the agent started when the bloody chains clinked towards him and wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles. He grunted as he was dragged back to the altar and pulled onto it. No matter how much he struggled and fought against the restraints, they weren’t loosening. It was safe to say that he was panicking just a little now, and despite how hard he tried to keep it hidden in his expression, it was not exactly working out for him. Shit. Kaden shifted this way and that in his bonds to no avail of much movement. He couldn’t even call for back up. He was hoping that the tracer C.A.R.M.A had implanted in him would be enough for C.A.R.M.A to know where he was and to send another agent or two behind him soon.

“Let me go,” he warned the other man, proud that he managed to keep his voice from shaking. He sounded pretty confident and stern in his tone as he glared at Gregory. “Let me go now, or things will be so much worse for you once my back up arrives.” It was a total bluff, sure, but creepy cult dude didn’t know that he was sort of lying, now did he?

The agent’s surprise was easy enough to understand, although Gregory had to admit that he’d been thinking his regeneration wouldn’t be anything astounding. Surely someone of his profession had seen something like it before? Perhaps he just wasn’t used to less flesh-like material piecing itself back together... or maybe he’d been hoping for the dumb luck that his pitiful excuse for a strike would be enough to work towards subduing him. Whatever the case, he didn’t ponder over the situation for long, instead more focused on the task of forcibly chaining Kaden down onto the blood-soaked alter and thus extending an ( unwanted ) invitation into their activities.

Something like amusement seemed to flicker in his otherwise corpse-like demeanor as the newest addition to their ritual snapped at him, and he crossed his arms lazily over his cloaked chest. “Agent, you can’t possibly think I’m going to release you now,” he drawled, clucking his tongue as though he were scolding a child -- in a way, he felt like he was. “You’ve already gotten yourself too involved for that, and should any of your comrades decide to join us, I’m sure we can find time to see to them as well.” There wasn’t any rush to their sacrifices, and the more offerings were given to their Gods, the better -- he’d never turn any victims away.

He turned to face the small circle of his disciples for a moment, beckoning one closer for a quick ( and hushed ) conversation about the possibilities stretched before them. After a minute or two the follower stepped back into place to resume their statue-like position and Gregory returned his attention to their new offering. “In fact, we’ll give them some time to arrive before we do anything drastic. Say... an hour or so? That should be sufficient for a rescue party,” he said, seeming to be speaking more to himself than the man on the altar. “Until then, we’ll keep you alive.” But not necessarily unharmed, as Kaden would soon find out.

Good Ole Catholic Showdown || Kaden & Greg

#p: good ol' catholic throwdown #p: kaden

agentxvalentine:

“Shit,” Kaden muttered as his stream of bullets were easily deflected like they were nothing. And none of the robed bastards didn’t even flinch. In all honesty, that part pissed him off the most. He sheathed his weapon, figuring there was no point in wasting any more ammo if that bullshit was going to happen again. If long range tactics weren’t going to work, he’d have to resort to short range. He shifted on one foot, his gaze running over the line of targets once more almost as if he were deciding which one to lunge at first.

Screw it. Go for the big boss.

Perching on the balls of his feet for a second, the agent rushed forward, using a burst of superhuman speed to launch himself right down the long aisle and in front of the boney masked leader in less than a second. “How’s this for consequences?” he said in a gruff tone, raising his fist and using the momentum from his run to throw a hard punch right at Gregory as he came to a halt in front of him.

An invisible smile graced his lips as Kaden holstered his gun, pleased that he’d finally seemed to realize that human weapons were no match for their kind -- not them in particular, anyway. It took much more than mere metal to fell even one of them, especially when the Pastor himself had extensive abilities in keeping them alive. Organic tissue was his specialty, and making sure it remained alive and well was only one of the few abilities he’d discovered over the years. This was good for those who decided to join his ranks and seek purity; not so much for those who dared to oppose him. It made him more than a match for most who were moronic enough to cross him.

He stood motionless as the agent launched himself forward ( at impressive speeds! and yet he sensed no mutations? interesting. ) and slammed a fist into his face, causing the bone that seemed to cover his face to crumble... and then, as quickly as it’d broken, piece itself back together again as though he’d never been stricken at all. “Unimpressive,” he answered, his tone suggesting disappointment in Kaden. “I’m afraid you just aren’t worth any more of my time, agent. Unfortunately, I cannot just let you walk out of here, and I doubt you’d take the opportunity even if it were open to you. Thus, you leave me with only one option -- I’m sure you’re intelligent enough that I don’t need to spell it out for you.” With a lazy flick of his wrist, the bloodied chains that had held the burnt victim together shot forward to coil around the agents ankles and wrists, pulling him back against the now-empty alter. “Such a pity. You’d make a fine soldier.”

Task 14: Archetypes

39% SPIRITUAL:

The Spiritual seeks a deeper meaning. For them, the journey of faith is never-ending.

archetype family: spiritual

other expressions: mystic, healer, seeker

life journey: to discover the meaning and purpose of life

unique challenge: to live a life that balances my spiritual, emotional, and physical needs

lesson to learn: to be truthful with myself about who I am and what I believe; to recognize when I’m resisting change in order to remain comfortable

defining grace: humility

challenge to self: I will tap into and trust my intuition, and be conscious of where I position matters of the spirit among other live interests.

33% ROYAL:

The Royal commands attention. They are the one in charge.

archetype family: royal

other expressions: executive, ceo, leader, chief

life journey: to learn to use power wisely, productively, and responsibly

unique challenge: to identify the causes in which to invest my power and influence

lesson to learn: to differentiate between authentic and illusory power

defining grace: generosity

challenge to self: I will share power in a close relationship, and commit to cooperation and compromise.

28% VISIONARY:

The Visionary is interested in new ways of seeing solutions not yet imagined.

archetype family: visionary

other expressions: entrepreneur, innovator, pioneer, guide, dreamer

life journey: to bring the forth the future, and sense the changing impulses of society.

unique challenge: to remain committed to a new vision in order to bring it to fruition.

lesson to learn: to believe in my vision, however great or small, and my creative potential to change lives.

defining grace: courage

challenge to self: I will envision new possibilities for humanity and recognize when an idea is worth rearranging my life for.

Most of Gregory’s results were fairly accurate, if not perfectly fitting, and no surprises were seen in any of the archetypes in his chart. The Spiritual is, as his percentages reflect, his defining role at this point in time. In fact, a large part of his characterization is built around his spirituality and how it’s shaped his worldview, for better or for worse. The Royal, a close second in his results, also plays an important role in his life. Commanding attention and being a leader in the lives of others is a driving force in his actions, and while having the power he desires has kept him from seeking it out further, any losses would promptly set him back onto that path, as he was before he found success in his ambitions. Last, but not least, The Visionary is an extraordinary fit for him, and while percentage-wise it’s the least influential archetype of his, it’s certainly far from unimportant. His vision and drive to change the world ( or better or for worse ) is what paved the way for his successes and will continue to do so long into the future, unless he undergoes a significant change in personality.

#wotna task

chanhyeok-byeol

Not What It Looks Like || Gregory & Chan-bye

#p: byeol #p: not what it looks like

chanhyeok-byeol:

Usually Chan-bye didn’t stay in fox form for long periods of time, preferring to just do it daily for short increments of time. But he’d had had a rather stressful day yesterday, and had ended up roaming around the small forest area of Pansaw. Hoping to clear his mind. During his wandering he’d stumbled upon a what looked like some campers, and he couldn’t help but be a little nosey; plus if they saw him, they wouldn’t think anything of it. Well…at least he’d hoped. He wasn’t sure how many feral foxes just sat and watched what people did.

After watching for a little, he grew bored and trotted off deeper into the woods. Enjoying the natural scenery and crisp air, eventually he lost track of time though; and ended up taking shelter in the small little den he’d stashed his bag at. It was a little strange at first, but soon enough he was drifting off to sleep. Once waking up, he stretched and yawned before deciding to switch forms. There wouldn’t be anyone around to see him change, so he’d just move quickly. As soon as he was dressed in his sweater and jeans, he just ran his fingers through his already tousled hair; and began walking blearily back towards the city. Still half asleep and absentmindedly picking out a few small leaves from his hair, Chan-bye hadn’t noticed he was wandering through the little campsite he’d seen just the day previous. Until he was walking and knocking over the little table that was set up there.

“A-Ah. Uh oh…” He said in a quiet gasp, trying to pick up everything and put it back in order. Wondering if he’d woken any of the people, he rushed to clean up his mess. “Maybe if I clean up quick…they’re not going to notice…so clumsy Chan-bye…why.” He muttered almost frantically, not noticing the other person walking nearer to him; until the shadow fell over his crouched form. “U-h…I’m so very sorry sir…I’ll clean it up! I’m sorry, I just..I wasn’t paying attention and..yeah…I’ll go…”

@gregoryreign

Normally, the grounds for a ritual was much grander than the makeshift campsite he and his few local followers had set up, but for a temporary location it’d done quite nicely. The sacrifice and celebration that’d followed had gone uninterrupted and as according to plan, and not for the first time his power had been restored -- and the faith his family had in him reignited. In his line of work he’d found that nothing ( nothing ) got them well and charged up like an offering to their Gods, and with their energy spent and spirits rejuvenated they’d been sent off to a long and well-earned slumber... all but one of them, anyway. The good pastor himself had elected to stay and keep watch for the rest of the night and early morning, allowing those that had participated in the ritual to return to their daily tasks while he remained to make sure their site was properly cleansed.

It was only when he turned his back for a moment that the unexpected occurred.

The sound of one of the remaining tables drew him away from his clean-up and back to the ritual site, curiosity driving him to find the source of the noise. What he found was a curious young man, crouched over and cleaning up the things he’d knocked onto the ground -- much more courteously than he’d expect from someone his age. “No need to apologize, son,” he said, extending a hand to pick him up off the ground, “accidents happen all the time. I’ll get the rest of this.” No need to have another snooping around sacrificial supplies -- it would likely look odd to anyone who didn’t belong to his close circle of followers. "Regardless, are you quite alright? That table can be hard on the knees,” he continued, his tone as calm and soft as though he were speaking to his daytime crowds -- nothing that would indicate he was anything out of the ordinary. “I know from experience.”

Good Ole Catholic Showdown || Kaden & Greg