The Fallacy of Limbo Chapter 1
[Nori] and I run 'living story' blogs for our OCs [Evan] and [Nolan]. During the few months of them being up, they have gained attention. We have been given the ship name 'Nolvan' and have received an abundance of requests to make the rps 'reader friendly' so that others can keep up with what is going on.
Basically, what I have done is taken the rps and asks and put them in chapter format. For the most part, these are unchanged. Some things have been added and re-organized to allow for more fluidity. Some rps--due to either not being finished, the blog no longer existing, or other reasons--have been left out.
The characters that appear in these chapters have more going on with them then what is mentioned. They have their own stories and own rps but what I have included is limited to what Nolan or Evan see and experience.
The characters appearing in this chapter are [Spookie] who is an OC and belongs to [onhallowedground]; as well as Cynthia and Tiffeny who are also OCs and belong to [freckledbolivian]. Their parts are written by their respective writers and, due to that, tense may occasionally change.
Chikago Illinois should never be confused with Chicago Illinois and, if someone were to make that error, it would be one that was amended rather quickly. It could be found easily if someone were to look for it but no one ever did. It had the peculiar trait of being off an exit that drivers never had a need to take. It was a name on a road sign that no one noticed. Not unless it wanted you to, anyway.
Chikago was a large city with a population of two point five million but only brought in, on average, a hundred tourists a year. Chikago didn't care for tourists. That isn't to say that everyone who lived in Chikago was born and raised there as that would be terribly limiting. Those that migrated to the sanctum were those whose oddities prevented them from blending in elsewhere or whose mindset was open enough for acceptance. You did not choose to live in Chikago. Chikago beckoned to you and made space.
In a city of abominations, magical beings, half-humans, and the gray anonymous; strangeness was normality and normality was whatever one made it. It was a city that did not pulse as much as it did throb and did not sleep as much as it did wait. It was a city that looked like sin but tasted like purity.
And it was in this city that a story began but that wasn't exactly meaningful because all stories begin somewhere, don't they? --- Evan Torri was not a face one noticed in a crowd. He was nineteen years of age, lean, and weighed enough to keep from appearing boney. He possessed no striking physical features. His eyes and hair were the color of walnuts and freckles lightly graced his shoulders and shoulders only. Standing tall, he reached a short five foot five inches and was used to looking up in order to meet another's gaze. He was easily overlooked and just as easily forgotten.
Despite having been born into a very devout family, Evan Torri was not overly religious. He had been raised in The Second Church of Omnia which was a small faith polytheistic in nature but monotheistic in structure. However, after turning eleven, he found himself not overly concerned with the gods. They all apparently had their own plans and no amount of praying seemed to alter their course. He saw no reason to doubt. He was sure they were more than capable; just steadfast in their ways.
However, despite being a bit lapsed; he enjoyed Christmas. He supposed it was because his father liked Christmas. The man would dress in terrible holiday sweaters and sing carols and burn sugar cookies. Evan continued the tradition in his memory. He just didn't bother burning the cookies. Why waste a tasty thing? As for the sweater...Well, nobody really needed to be subjected to that besides his mother.
And so, dressed modestly and with nothing displaying a reindeer or otherwise, Evan made his way through the throng of people past the mall and on towards smaller shops in Chikago's merchant district. The day had been a full one. Evan had seen after his mother and run errands for hours before finally making time for himself. The holiday season seemed to be more of a daze than anything else and it could become a headache if some personal time wasn't taken.
He hadn't exactly known where or to what purpose he was traveling. He had walked the sidewalk with hands in his gray jacket pockets and smiling at the window displays. In one store, dead rats had been skewered and were roasting; in another, fairies cried torturous inside jars; and in the one next to that an elderly man worked tirelessly on handmade toys.
Evan halted as he finally came across a building that seemed far more interesting than the others—a neon sign flickered as it proclaimed: 'Hallowed Ground: I Got Voodoo, I Got Hoodoo.' Unable to resist, he popped in.
Spookie—a large beast that seemed semi humanistic hyena in form and punk rock in dress—darted around the shop in a tizzy, collecting the required ingredients for her little spell. It was nothing big, of course, just a little cure for a sore throat. Mama hadn’t been feeling well and she wanted to help at least a little.
“Okay… powdered ginger root,” she snatched the corked bottle from the shelf, examining the label before putting it in the armful she already had. “Peppermint oil… where is that damn thing? Ah! There you are you little bastard… Licorice…”
The bell above the door rang, a customer coming in from the cold to nose about.
“Be with ya in a minute, babe,” Spookie called out over her shoulder before grabbing the last few bottles and darting to the back. Carefully putting each ingredient on her table, she snagged her denim vest, adorned with more patches and spikes than actual denim, and threw it on over her hoodie before strolling out to the counter.
In her usual cocky manner, Spookie leaned on the counter and grinned. “Welcome to Hell, my friend. Name’s Spookie… what can I help ya with?”
“Oh, I'm not looking for anything in particular.” Evan grinned at the welcome as he held up a blue bottle for examination. “Just...something.”
The beast kicked her legs over the counter, bounding down to stand next to the boy. “I mean, there’s only so many somethings you can find in a Voodoo shop.” She nudges him playfully. “You want Voodoo? Medicinal? Smokables? Hoodoo? Dolls? Blood? Skulls? I just got a new shipment of jaguar skulls, actually…”
Spookie looked the boy up and down with a cocked eyebrow, “Do you even know how to do magic? Like, it’s harder than you think, sweet cheeks. Fuck around too much and you end up… well… like me!” She bursts out into laughter before a loud cough from the back draws her back down to earth. Her head tilts to the back for a moment, “You alright, Mama?”
A deep African accent calls back out to the creature, “Fine, don’ worry…”
“Hmmm,” Spookie allowed a pained smile to curve across her muzzle, “Mama’s so damn stubborn… Anyway, magic!! What do you know?” Instead of answering, Evan pulled up his sleeves, clapped, and flower petals rained down from his hands to the floor. A coin was produced from between his pinkie and ring finger, rolled across his knuckles, and tossed up to be dropped through his hand and disappear. When he went to speak, it was action he found difficult before retrieving the coin from his mouth.
"Mostly parlor tricks." he grinned, standing on tip-toe as he reached into the store keeper’s hood and retrieved the blue bottle. "But they make people smile and I like to make others happy." Setting the bottle back on the shelf, he turned his attention back to her. "If you have something you think would interest me, well," he chuckled. "I’m interested."
Spookie couldn’t help but giggle at the young man. “Parlor tricks? Not bad! Though I don’t believe we have that form of magic.”
She scratched her head in thought for a moment, “Wait! If you’re looking for something rather showy for your little performance… We sell Dead Man’s Coins. Silver dollars buried with corpses to weight their eyes shut and a little money to pay the ferryman. Grave robbers dig them up and junk… you can always tell if it’s genuine if there’s a little grave dirt and blood on it. Plus the eyes are scratched out. They’re supposed to bring bad luck… I like to give them to shitty customers as a thank you!” Laughing, Spookie bolts back around the counter to look at the specialties kept out of the front.
“Let’s see, let’s see,” she began to pile things before her. “I got a baby fat candle, shrunken monkey head, chicken foot, jaguar teeth… Hmmm, you might like these.”
Pulling an awkward, rectangular box from it’s roost, Spookie opened it and showed it to her visitor. Her hands worked nimbly to display the cards, her fingers shuffling and fanning them as if they were an extension of herself.
“Tarot cards,” she explained, holding the deck for her guest to examine. “Picked those up down in the Big Easy. They’re blessed, said to tell only the most accurate of stories. You see… you have your guest pick three cards at random; the first shows their past, the second is current affairs and the third shall be their future. I mean… they were pretty accurate on me if that’s the kinda thing you’re looking for. I imagine they wouldn’t look too shabby with what you got goin’ on!”
“Those look fantastic!” Evan smiled wide, eagerly leaning on the desk in an effort to get a better look. His mind shuffed through possible ideas. However, upon closer examination, he frowned. “Is it hard to learn tarot? The pictures don't seem to make a lot of sense to me.”
“Not the hardest thing, sugar,” Spookie explained, taking the deck to shift through them. She pulled a few from the top and laid them face up. She pointed to them one by one.
“This is The Fool. He stands for new beginnings and making healthy choices when moving into them. Then you have The Hanged Man, standing for a crossroads in one’s life… ya know, good-bad, black-white kinda crap. Then you have my favorite… The Devil.”
She shows the card with a flourish. “A lot of readers seem to think that this ol’ boy here is a bad omen… simply ain’t true. He stands for a bondage in your life, something holding you back from your true potential, something that is fooling you into believing you are happy when really… it’s stealing your soul. Symbolism…”
She scoops the cards back into their deck and gently places them into the box. “Once you get the hang of it, it’s natural. They become a part of you. I actually have a set that I keep with me at all times. You never know when some random kids might need some entertaining! I’d love to give you a reading if you’re interested… maybe show you the ropes? Wait… I don’t even know your name…”
“Oh! Sorry about that.” Evan chuckled as he held out his hand. “My name is Evan. Evan Torri. I'm a freshman at University Chikago. Lived here all my life so don't think I'm a shoebie.” He grinned.
Evan was no stranger when it came to the bizarre city of Chikago. It was the reason why he didn't exclaim over the shopkeeper's appearance. The world was an odd place but it was also a nice one and he really didn't see any reason to get worked up over oddness. This was especially true since he—being a plain human—was what many of the residence would consider peculiar.
The idea of learning tarot seemed difficult but he smiled wider at the novelty of getting his cards read.
“A reading sounds fantastic. Tell you what, if your reading is spot-on, I'll purchase the deck you showed me. If you're wrong, well,” he shrugged before chuckling. “Guess I'll settle with a candle or something.”
Unable to turn down such a challenge, Spookie held out her hand to shake. “You gotta deal, babe. Get your wallet out.”
She turned from the counter to retrieve her own deck from her mixing table in the back. It was well weathered and well traveled, the cards' red and gold coloring still shining and showing the care she offered despite their age.
Upon her return, Spookie shuffled the cards before handing them over to Evan. “Shuffle them, cut them… whatever you wish. But they must touch you and they must know your energy.”
Evan did as he was told before three cards were pulled and placed face down on the table.
“Ready? Okay…” Spookie flipped over the first card, The Justice. “The Justice. This means that there are people in your past that have hurt you and left you angry, perhaps even confused. You must learn to let these things go for your own good. Karma has good aim…”
Moving to the second card, Spookie tilted her head, “The Moon. You are shrouded, even to yourself. You feel like people don’t really get you.. That they choose to see you as something other than who you are and you know it and it bothers you.”
She flipped over the final card, smiling as she sees it’s face. “Ah, The Magician. You have a bright future before you. This card reminds you to make higher decisions. Do not be afraid of failure, this card is showing itself to let you know that you will impact another life in such a way that you may just save it.”
Looking over the cards with a grin, she held out her hand for payment. “That’ll be 14.95$ and Hallowed Ground thanks you for your business! Tell me… how good am I?”
"Well, I can’t say much about the future but I’ll keep an eye out. As for everything else…guess I just bought a deck of cards." Evan grinned wide as he pulled put his wallet and fished for a twenty. He hadn't been expecting the accuracy of the reading but perhaps that added to the intrigue of it all. As the shopkeeper turned to make change, he glanced back over the items in the shop with a content smile on his face. The place seemed nice. Relaxing. It smelt good; like leather and curry. Realizing himself, he turned his focus back to her.
“Sorry, you know my name but I can't remember if I caught yours?”
Spookie hit the old cash register with an annoyed pout, “Stupid old thing… Oh, me? Spookie. You can call me Spook, Spookaroo, Spookadoodle, Spoo… Whatever. It’s a nickname, anyway!” She handed over the change, leaning on the counter playfully. “And come back whenever you wish… Hell, bring the friends! Girlfriend! Mom! Dad! Brother and sister! Whoever!!! I’m usually here… I mean… I own the place. Well, Mama owns the place but I take care of it. Hallowed Ground here is my pride and joy… And her doors are always open for one such as yourself. I’d really like to see you read my life one day.”
"Well, Spookie, I may not be awesome with tarot cards but I can already tell your future. You will have a new patron and be seeing me again." He flashed a smile in parting as he grabbed his purchase. "Take care and have yourself a lovely day!" --- Cynthia talked animatedly to Tiffeny inside the empty diner, waving her hands around wildly to get her point across. The tall, lanky woman shook her head at Cynthia’s antics, wiping down the already cleaned counter. Business was always slow on Sundays, perfect days for Cynthia to catch up with Tiffeny. Though she’d already spent the week hiding out at Tiffeny’s place, it had become tradition for the two to meet up at the empty dinner on Sundays. Cynthia sat on the bar stool while Tiffeny busied herself with turning on the coffee pot again from behind the counter. Cynthia growled at the older woman as the coffee began to brew, the strong aroma making her nearly gag. Before they could begin to bicker at one another, the bells above the door signaled a customer. They both whipped their heads to stare at the young man entering the rundown dinner.
After having left Hallowed Ground, Evan had followed the road back to his car. Feeling peckish, the site of a diner had sparked his stomach growling and he had slipped his tarot cards into his pocket before popping in. Seeing only two people—a customer and an attendant—he could understand the eyes turning his direction. Hoping he wasn't intruding, Evan gave a hopefully welcoming smile and a wave of his fingers.
After a beat of silence, Tiffeny was the first to speak, following work protocols.
“Welcome to Connie’s! My name’s Tiffeny, and I’ll be your server today! Sit anywhere you like, I’ll go get you a menu.” The pale blonde woman smiled brightly at the man before quickly scurrying off, leaving Cynthia alone with the customer. Cynthia raised her eyebrows at him, a smirk slowly forming on her red lips. “Well, hi there doll fa-”
“Cynthia! Don’t you dare!” Tiffeny yelled from the back where she was retrieving the menus.
Cynthia huffed, folding her arms across her chest. She leaned against the counter, eyes never leaving the stranger’s.
“Doll face?” Evan rose an eyebrow, his brown eyes holding a mixture of interest and teasing. He hoped his expression distracted from the pink that appeared on his ears in the form of a blush.
Evan had never been fantastic with flirting—teasing or otherwise. He supposed it came from never having actually been in a relationship. At nineteen years old going on twenty, he also supposed never having actually been in a relationship spawned from his utter averagness, messy brown hair, and baby face.
Still...
He grinned as he slid onto the stool next to Cynthia. “Well, hello back, beautiful.”
Cynthia couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She could smell the man’s slight uneasiness, and decided to mess with him a little. She opened her mouth to speak, batting her emerald eyes at him, but only a snarl left her lips as Tiffeny smacked the back of her head with the menu before placing it in front of Evan. Tiffeny leaned close towards the boy, whispering loudly, “You don’t wanna go there honey. Cynthia here is bad news.” She chuckled at Cynthia’s shout of protest.
If Evan had been hoping his expression would cover the pink in his ears, he knew now there was no hope. He felt the blush spread across his cheeks and managed to mumble a thanks as he took the menu.
“Um, so what do you suggest? To eat, I mean.”
Before Tiffeny could answer, Cynthia pressed herself up against Evan’s side, her coat sliding off her shoulder. She smirked wickedly, “Me.” Cynthia threw her head back and laughed as Tiffeny flushed and screamed at her to stop harassing her costumers. Cynthia leaned back away from Evan, smirk still painted on her lips.
“I’m just messin’ with the cutie! Look at his lil’ face.” She cooed, poking Evan’s cheek. She leaned over and opened the menu, pointing out different options casually as if she hadn’t done anything. “I usually get the bacon burger. But I’m a huge meat lover. Anything here is great really. Especially if its made by Tiffeny.” She said as she playfully blew a kiss at the older woman. Laughing loudly as Tiffeny flipped her off without looking up from the old Cosmo magazine in her hands.
Evan’s hue deepened as he felt Cynthia lean against him. Even as she teased him, he couldn’t help but feel his hands become sweaty from nerves and he silently cursed himself for that. He couldn’t help it. With as close as she was leaning, he could breathe in her scent and she smelt so good. He cleared his throat and attempted to give a confident smile he didn’t feel.
"Bacon burger sounds great." he said to Tiffeny. "No mayo or onions, please. Maybe a carbonated water?"
Tiffeny nodded, smiling softly at Evan before turning and fetching his drink from the cooler. She held the glass bottle out towards Cynthia who effortlessly popped off the sealed top with her nail while she shamelessly flirted with Evan.
The college student's eyes widened a fraction at the action.
Strong nails.
From having grown up in Chikago Evan had learned that beings were not always what they seemed and, although his curiosity was peaked, he wouldn't dare be rude enough to ask if she were human or otherwise. Tiffeny sat the glass before Evan, picking up the menu as she turned and walked over to the kitchen entrance. As she held the door open she turned to playfully glare at Cynthia, wagging a warning finger her way. “Don’t sexually assault the poor man while I’m gone, lil’ pup.” Cynthia snapped her teeth towards Tiffeny, eyes flickering to a shinning silver before swirling back to their emerald green.
Her cheeks had flushed a soft pink at being called a pup. “That damn dyke.” She muttered under her breath. She turned to Evan after a few moments, a wide smile on her face. “So, handsome, tell bout yourself?” She batted her eyes up at him, touching his bicep teasingly.
At the touch, the batted eyes, and her coo, Evan felt his heart beat faster.
"Not much to tell. I’m not very interesting." he admitted with an apologetic smile and then cursed himself.
Yeah, girls love it when you say you’re boring. Smooth.
"I attend the University of Chikago….I do magic. Well, not like sorcery…just parlor tricks…I…um."
I sound so stupid!
"I’m sure you are far more interesting.” he managed, practically blurting out the admittance in an effort to get the focus off himself. “What brings you out here? Your…um…boyfriend taking you out to lunch?" The wolf snorted as Evan’s heart rate quickened. Commenting on how such a lamb he was. Cynthia smiled to herself. Well, wouldn’t that make her the big bad wolf? She found it fitting. Cynthia's eyes widen at the mention of boyfriend, her heart clenching even after all these years. She shook her head, laughing softly.
“Oh, honey. There hasn’t been a boyfriend in years.” Her eyes strayed away, a melancholy glaze to them. Once she realized her mind had begun to wonder she quickly snapped back. She brought her gaze back to Evan, a playful smirk on her lips again. “Magic? Sounds fascinating. You have to give me a private show sometime and show me some of your tricks, hm?”
Evan took notice of her expression when she mentioned not having a boyfriend for years and decided not to pry. It wasn’t as if he knew her and he had no right to go trudging into a potential bad memory, especially around the holidays. When she mentioned magic, he blushed. He brought a hand up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck before feeling bold, grinning, and reaching forward behind her ear to bring forth a coin which he handed to her.
"I would have given you a daisy but I’m afraid I’m out." he blushed. Cynthia smiled warmly at Evan, clutching the coin in her hand. She opened her mouth to speak, but the soft thump of a door hitting the wall lead her attention elsewhere. Tiffeny walked out of the kitchen, holding Evan’s plate high. She smiled wickedly as she set the plate before him. “I pray Cynthia here didn’t scare you too bad. She has that affect on people some times.” Tiffeny teased, setting the silverware on the man’s napkin.
The other growled while Tiffeny snickered behind her raised hand. Cynthia stuck her tongue out at the woman before looking back at Evan. She stared for a bit, properly seizing him in. The wolf inside her doing it out of instincts, of course. As he took his first bite, Cynthia glanced at the clock above the exit doors. Boss would be pissed if she wasn’t home soon. After being gone a week, she’d probably cost the man another fortune. But she shrugged it off, Evan was far more interesting at the moment.
“You said you attend the University of Chikago? If ya don’t mind me askin’, how old are ya, doll?” Not that age even mattered, but she was curious. Tiffeny raised an eyebrow at Cynthia, before picking back up the torn magazine, shaking her head.
Evan bobbed his head as he chewed as if in silent apology before swallowing.
"I’m nineteen. I haven’t technically started yet though. I took a semester off between high school to get some extra hours at work and save. I got to move into the dorms today and I’ll be starting in January."
Why am I talking so much? She asked how old I was not my life story. Oh, goodness, I’m blowing this.
Not knowing how to be less awkward, he took another bite of his burger. This boy sure is a cutie, huh? she thought to herself as he rambled. Her wolf gave a short huff as its only option on the matter. “Well, what a coincidence! I’m nineteen as well!” She cheered, resting her head on her arm that laid across the counter top. She sneaked a fry off his plate, munching on it happily as he ate. “I couldn’t go to college even if I wanted to. I didn’t go to high school. Hell, I didn’t even finish half of my middle school years.” She mumbled, rambling off herself, tapping her nails against the tile. “So, you gotta experience the whole shebang for the both of us! Would you do that for lil’ ole me?” She pleaded playfully, jutting out her bottom lip.
Darling, I would go to the moon if you asked me to.
"Um, sure." he gave a smile and felt the blush rise once more on his face. He felt so dreadfully nervous. Anxiously checking his watch, he realized the time. "Oh, gosh, I have to get back to work." Taking another large bit of his burger, he downed it with his drink before standing. Instead of getting his wallet, he reached behind his ear to remove a twenty and place it on the table.
"The food was wonderful. Thank you."
Looking back at Cynthia he hesitated for only a moment before retrieving a pen from his pocket and quickly scribbling his name and number on a napkin.
"Um, I know you probably have other things to do but, um, well, maybe if you wanted..uh…maybe we could both ‘experience the whole shebang,’ like, together?" He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, nice meeting you."
He gave a short wave, cursed himself for doing that, and then left. Cynthia sat up in her seat, staring out where Evan had hastily exited the small dinner. She gave a small wave of her own even though he could no longer see her. She looked down at the napkin, and couldn’t stop the smile from blooming on her.
“I’d toss it if I were you. Boss will find out, just like that other young man last week. You can’t risk it, Cynthia. Not again.” Tiffeny said softly, staring out after the boy as well.
Cynthia’s shoulders sagged, knowing the older woman was right. She sighed, and hopped off her seat. She pulled on her coat, and tightened her scarf around her neck, readying herself for the cold.
“I guess you’re right. You’re always right, you damn dyke.” Cynthia grumbled as she went around the counter to hug and kiss her old friend goodbye.
After a soft kiss to the cheek, Cynthia bounded out the diner’s doors, shivering slightly at the harsh cold. She quickly made her way to the apartment complex, not even beginning to think of what type of punishment she’d receive. On her way, she slowly paused before a garbage can. She held the napkin in her hand still, and frowned down at it. After a few moments of contemplating, she stuffed the napkin in her coat pocket. She smiled to herself, as she made her way to face the wrath of her awaiting Boss.