| |
Lightbringer
|
Obligatory; if you are not Tea or Vah, please don't post. Feel free, however, to stalk!
--- Plot; A prestigious college set up in the 1960s by the gods themselves to prove that they're so much better than mortals. Demigods, creatures and rare mortals with godly blessings attend. All is well for a good while. Until something starts threatening the peace and leaving others... ruined.
Figuring to stop it, but obviously trying to make sure no one really panics... the administration sends two people out to figure it out. Because that's what should be done and that's all they can afford to spare!
If they succeed, godhood or whatever they desire is on the line. |
|  |
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Character’s full name: Crew Evelyn Harris Sinclair Reason or meaning of name: Crew’s name stems from many familial ties, and most of them can be traced back many generations Character’s nickname: TBA Birth date: 5/27 Age: 22 Physical appearance: Crew is all white teeth, and big smiles. He is sunshine, warmth, and sandy beaches. He is a 6'2 bundle of blonde hair and muscles, and he is beautiful. His big green eyes are captivating, and something about the warmth found there draws people in. He has an athletic build, and uses it to his advantage in everything he can think of. His face is well-built, with a strong, square jaw, and high, sloping cheekbones. His eyes are not deep set, unlike his father's, and his dimples pop whether or not he is smiling, you can see that they are there. He doesn't wear glasses, nor does he wear contacts. The Sinclairs do not need to wear any sort of correction, because, from the outside, they are already perfect. Why would they need something so trivial? His skin is warm and tanned, he has no blemishes that are visible. The few scars he sports along his legs come from sports, and those were to be expected, of course. Crew was born to play sports. Back in Massachusetts, every fall, every break, every time not spent in school was to be spent in physical activity. Tennis, lacrosse, baseball. He is the epitome of a handsome young man from the East Coast, prepared to become everything he was meant to be. His most distinguishing marks are his stature, and his face. The Sinclairs have a very distinct way of look, that stems from generations of tall, blonde, happy people getting married, and having tall, blonde, happy children. Crew follows after these expectations perfectly, with his vigorous height, his cheerful nature, and then hair that is so unmistakable. These blond locks fall long over the summer, when he refuses to have it cut, and it will curl slightly around his ears, softening that clear-cut jawline. He rarely styles his hair, given the amount of time spent in the water, on the beach, or on various sports fields, why would he? It stays neatly out of his face for the most part, so he is satisfied. Crew's voice is rather low and smooth, and his enunciations are clear and precise. Every word is meant exactly as it is said, unless he is in a temperamental frame of mind. Overall, he is found attractive by the girls he knows, and he makes a point to keep it that way. He is the product of two of the wealthiest families on the East Coast.. Why shouldn't he be praised and adored? Treasured and doted upon? Crew dresses like a young gentleman for the most part. He will wear the proper tuxedos and polo shirts, the jumpers over button-down shirts, He will wear the ties as expected, his shirts buttoned all the way up his throat. But the summers are his, and his alone. Linen shorts and shirts find their moments, as do his less casual clothes. However, if he could truly have his way, he would be quite content to wear nothing but his swimsuit, and spend long summer evenings on tiny, secluded coves, sipping a whiskey and sour, soaking the last rays of the sun's warmth. Crew normally doesn't wear many accessories, but occasionally he will wear a simple, silver chain with his sisters' initials engraved on a small pendant. Personality: Crew is ambitious and smart enough, and uses these to his advantage when he can. He is quick witted, and easy to laugh, but once he's formed an opinion, he is not willing to change it. He is stubborn and articulate, and loves to debate and argue, whether for fun, or if he means it. For the most part, he is curious and creative, and will listen well, especially if it might teach him something new, that he can use to look even more intelligent later. Crew is very adventurous, and is always ready to do something that could lead to danger or trouble. Risk-taking is a trait he is known for, and one his parents have tried time and time again to rid him of, to no avail. He is loyal to a point, but the moment he has a reason to distrust you, he will start to pull away. Despite this, Crew often comes off as arrogant and forgetful, which he tries to not show, but occasionally will surface. His impulsivity can lead to terrible consequences, and he never seems to take anything away from his failures. Some would see it as resilience, others more as pig-headedness. He is snarky, and his sharp tongue can often come off as more harsh than he intended. He is also very disorganised, and his rooms would be a wreck if it weren't for the help his parents inevitably employ. He has a very dry, dark sense of humour, which many people in the upper echelons of society do not understand, nor do they appreciate, which has gotten him into trouble many a time. His greatest joys in life are his athletic endeavours, and his two younger sisters. His greatest fear in life is losing his sisters, especially the one who is only a few years younger than him. He is most at ease when he is with his family, or with close friends, though occasionally he will close himself off if he doesn't know a lot of people. He prioritises his relationships above his academic career, and his academic career above his athletics. When he was younger, he struggled greatly with anxiety and depression, mostly stemming from the pressure of his parents, though he was put on medication for it when he was nine, and never looked back. Who cares if sometimes, he takes a few more pills than necessary? Who cares if he can't sleep at night without having a large alcoholic beverage, or some heavy duty meds? He certainly doesn't. It's perfectly normal, and he is perfectly fine. His life goals currently revolve around finishing college at Princeton, and taking on the family business, which he honestly isn't positive what is. His father prefers to not speak of his job with the family, especially in front of his wife. Crew also plans on continuing to play his favourite sports, and, if time allows, he is hoping to be able to travel around Europe with a group of his friends, or perhaps a partner. Relationships: Mother (Rosamund Sinclair): Rosamund Sinclair married young, and married high. She was known for being a beauty, and carries on her family legacy with her well-known parties, clambakes, and any other reason to celebrate. She recently celebrated her fortieth birthday, and is having a hard time accepting that she is beginning to grow older. Despite her fluttery nature, she is a warm, maternal figure for all her children, and raised them well. Father (Preston Sinclair): Preston Sinclair is the polar opposite of his wife, especially in public. He is closed off, and keeps his feelings and business endeavours close to his chest. However, at Rosamund’s many parties, he takes time out of his busy schedule to socialise with her guests, and participates in any events she has planned. He tolerates his children, but none of them would ever say they feel particularly loved by their father. He rarely dines with them, and when the Sinclairs head to California for their summers, he does not accompany them. Siblings: -Kennedy Sinclair: Only two year younger than Crew, Kennedy Sinclair is everything she expected to be. A bright, blonde beauty, she is smart and sweet, and fun-loving. She and Crew get along like a house on fire, and when they were younger, were rarely seen without each other. Now, their interests have changed slightly, but they still hold quite an impressive sibling rivalry and affection for each other. Kennedy is planning on attending Harvard, and often helps her mother with the huge parties she throws. -Clementine Sinclair: Clementine is the youngest Sinclair, and a rainbow baby. Rosamund had wanted three children for a long time, but had suffered through multiple miscarriages after Kennedy. She began to lose hope around the time Crew was turning fifteen, but to everyone’s surprise, Clementine made her appearance ten days after her big brother turned sixteen. Now, at six years old, she is taking after her big sister, and any attention from her siblings is greeted with big smiles and joy. Despite her being the youngest, and a surprise, she is not treated with any more favour or affection than her siblings. Pets: The Sinclair family has always had at least one dog, normally two or three. Right now, they are happily engaged with a Doberman pinscher, Cha-Cha, and a Golden Retriever, Dixie. Cha-Cha spends all his time at the East Coast house, but Dixie travels with the family. Other: Crew was gifted with a blessing of the gods, so although he has no godly parentage, he still has some other worldly powers. Pyrokenesis and healing powers were gifted to him at a young age. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Kalen Hemera Age: 23
Gender: Male
Godly Parent: Hermes Appearance:
Let me tell you. Let me--just hang on for a hot second. This young man stands approximately 6'0" even with the stance that could probably send warning bells ringing in a church. Not only does Kalen have an astounding height, this shifter has the muscle form of the statues of Roman heroes. Rippled, toned, looking like he was likely chiseled from the marble itself. His broad shoulders, his toned chest, the way he holds himself--it all just screams ... well... thick. Like gym bro thick. His skin is a bit more on the dark side, with a warm tan color. It looks like the warm color of coffee with a slight bit of milk. Or the touching of varnish on fresh wood. It mixes well with his dark brown hair that waves. It falls in soft waves and lightly over his forehead, sometimes into his eyes. Tousled, messy, and on purpose. But the eyes. Oh the eyes. The warning bells are nearly screaming. Kalen's eyes are a strange color. They almost want to be soft green, maybe blue... but there's just a touch too much uncanny green to them. Of all the colors in the world, it almost seemed to fit the same warm tone, the same comforting color that the rest of him has and instead, threw vibrant and piercing green in those eyes. The eyes are always windows to the soul, to the mind. And boy howdy, it takes a fair amount of looking to really tell what Kalen is thinking. Speaking of which, leads to this young man's "second form." While his father, likewise, is a "winged" messenger, unfortunately, Kalen's winged gifts were not a helmet, staff or shoes. Rather actual wings that he can shift into. While these wings have no real effect on him other than flight, Kalen tends to avoid using them for whatever strange reason. He tries to hide the wings as long and as best as he can. https://i.postimg.cc/Vs7t4b8X/Kalen-Ref.png (C)85543 Personality:
Kalen is cunning. He just is. He's quick and witty but always thinking ahead. It's a fatal flaw to always be thinking, always be planning and prepared. Always thinking ahead and always planning on how to help his house be the best. By whatever means possible. He can heal with his words--technically even a little bit himself, but he prefers to fight. He prefers to make things far more "interesting" than they really should be. After all, Kalen is everything. He is confident, he is witty, he is smart, he is always thinking ahead. Everything points to him being cunning and confident in the way he moves. His smile, his grin, the way he holds himself with all the confidence in the world, the way he laughs, seems to just blend in wherever he goes. But he gets a bit uncertain when he has to actually be responsible. Or is asked about his past. No one quite knows it. Either way, Kalen can be--and surely is--a bit of a bully. But it is far more behind the scenes than one would originally think. Under the masks, Kalen isn't sure who or what to be. Sure, everyone else already knows. But when one can simply hide under a mask that everyone likes? How can he be sure if it's really him? Kalen won't admit it, he will lash out when someone tries to see what is under the mask. His words are a knife to the soul. Poised, sharp and always at the ready. After all, it's not him who's a problem. He's got plans, he's just doing his thing--that's what everyone says to do. just do your thing. Well, he is. An object in motion, stays in motion. Kalen's plans stay in motion, no matter what. He gets what he wants and if he doesn't, well, he just changes his plans and gets them anyways.
Only when the mask comes off does everything stop. Kalen just can't function when the mask isn't there. When all is said and done, when the masks and faces fall, he's done. He can't function, can't think, can't even really work. So he lashes out, he will attack viciously when someone tries to pry the mask off. It's his last defense, his only flaw. And with a young man raised in the mafia, limits and boundaries are hard to find, especially when the mask falls. ---- With a new-money feel to him, Kalen is there solely to learn how to run a business. Understanding his personality is understanding his background. While he says he came from a new restaurant type business, in reality, the new money came from the mafia behind it. Kalen keeps his background relatively neat and curt and hidden. For obvious reasons. However, this makes him an ample target for schemes, plans and ... other "business".
Faking a respectable smile and job isn't too hard. After all, the more one knows how to do, the better they can hide it. Someone has to run the business. Why not him? |
| |
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
The ringing call of the bell tower overlooking the campus was the first solid noise in a crisp autumn morning. A world that laid below in vibrant red, orange and yellow hues slept on despite the sunrise soliloquy. Some of it at least. Campus goers began to rise up and wake for their day. Among them was the demigod of Hermes. Kalen didn't often wake up early and school had been a pain for him. But the bells were so close to his dorm it was impossible to sleep through them. The ringing bells all but shook the halls in which he stayed in. His morning routine was simple in theory. Get up, shower, eat something while proceeding to get dressed, style hair and lastly, remind himself of what all he had to do that day. The shower was usually cold, the warm water didn't reach the top of the dorms easily and he didn't bother with the warm water usually. The bar of soap worked... but had no real scent to it. Nothing a little Italian cologne couldn't fix--it was surprisingly strong. Then again, it was more considered a musk than a cologne. Just a little bit under the chin, along the wrists and a dab of it in his collarbone. His attire was a little bit on the strange side. While jeans were not exactly the most popular, he preferred them to the usual trousers and slacks that the day carried. His button up shirts were always left partially unbuttoned, as he preferred. But the iconic piece of his collection was the saddleback shoes he wore. Granted, everyone had them. But Kalen prided himself on the way he looked. A looser style for his hair, tossing it up and down--not slicked back, no. He wasn't a greaser, ha! He added the golden ring on the silver twine around his neck. Mama Evelyn's ring. His grandmother--well, adoptive grandmother. But still. She had taught him so much when he was little. A golden piece of fabric--acting almost like a bracelet--tied around his wrist. The only piece of fabric he had from his mother at all. Then he was out of the dorm, headed down the stairs. Each step he recounted what he had to do that day. It was simple, it was easy, it was far too easy actually. Uncle Giuseppe had said something about how college was so hard and it would be difficult for him. Kalen found it rather easy, actually. Maybe Uncle was just in the wrong college. As he opened the door to the outside, Kalen took in a breath of the crisp air, enjoying the lingering summer's warmth. Strolling along the sidewalks, he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, enjoying the warmth. He just had one more place to go. For some reason, he wasn't sure why, he had been requested at the Head Administrator's office. Could he be graduating early? No, that couldn't be. But it might've been... The walk was a little bit longer than he had initially expected. His eyes turned to the clock tower repeatedly, keeping track of the time. Hopefully the meeting didn't go too long, he still had a class to attend in the morning. |
| |
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Crew had let himself have a lazier morning than normal, taking the time to write back home and check on his sisters, and take a long, hot shower. This was mostly due to the fact that Sterling had finally slept through the entire night for once, and was still sleeping, and he had no wish to disturb her peaceful slumber. The young man glanced over at the messy bed, where the little girl lay sprawled across the crumpled sheets and blankets. She had so much of her mother in her, he thought to himself. His blonde curls had found no place with her, the darker wavy locks that lay smashed on the pillowcase were all Zoya's. Crews would never regret his daughter, she meant the world to him, and the fact that she was a little bit of him was still so hard for him to comprehend. Even so, he definitely regretted her mother. That had all been a horrible mistake, but...Sterling had come of it, and she was his little munchkin. He smoothed his slightly damp blond hair nervously as he re-skimmed a letter that had been dropped off that morning. It read that he needed to come by the main campus that day because he was wanted in the headmaster's office, which was highly disconcerting. Had they found out that he had taken some creative liberties on the last math test? He'd still managed to get the right answers, so he didn't see why it was such a problem that he hadn't used the precise formula that he'd been given. The letter was clear about when he wanted there, and he had no intentions of being late, so he dug through his bureau until he found a pair of slacks, neatly folded, and a warm burgundy sweater. It was getting to be quite chilly outside now, thanks to the changing seasons, and Crew did much better in the warmth of summer than the nippy autumn days. He smoothed the loose pieces of hair from falling into his face, and turned to the task of gently rousing the little girl. At first, it seemed like she was going to be good-spirited that morning, but that quickly changed as he tried to coax her into changing into something else. She started to throw a fit, and out of patience, and out of time, he finally agreed to let her go in the purple nightgown. It fell all the way down past her little feet, and had pink flowers printed on the well-worn flannel, and had all the charm a little girl would want. Thankfully, she accepted her small coat without argument, and slipped her feet into the shoes that she'd chosen a few days before. He took her hand in his, making his way out of the dorms, out into the chilly morning. The wind nipped at the pair, and Sterling looked even more sour than she had before they'd left, so he slipped off his warm, thick coat, and wrapped it around her, picking her up. They made an odd duo as Crew made his way up the steps to the Administration building: a small child in a coat many sizes too big, her face hidden in the neck of a tall, shivering young man. He stepped inside, and relaxed at the blast of warmth that greeted them, walking up to the headmaster's large, oaken door. Crews knocked, and pushed it open, surprised to see someone else already deep in discussion with the headmaster, and hesitated in the doorway. "Should...should I wait out here? Or I am supposed to be a part of this?" He asked during a pause in the conversation. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
The large oak doors raised up far beyond the height of the young man stepping in front of them. His vibrant green eyes slowly lifted, drawing upward slowly and slowly until reaching the top of the doorway in some silent awe. The doors were carefully crafted, carved to perfection and the door handles were well worn. As it made sense of course or whatever. He didn't really care but he did care when the door swung back. Kalen stepped back, out of some surprise and respect, dipping his head to the headmaster. The being had a copy of the letter he had been sent in his hand. Their aged face bore many scars, wrinkles and the peppered grey hair. A long white beard added to the look overall. He wore a crisp suit and regarded the demigod in front of him with cold golden eyes. "Kalen Hemera?" "That is me, sir," Kalen confirmed with a brief nod. He followed after the Headmaster as he beckoned him inside. Kalen stifled his nervousness under a loose expression, casually taking a seat in front of the equally as large mahogany wood desk that sprawled along the floor. "You are wondering why I called you in," the man mused slowly. "As the headmaster of this university, I pride in keeping things in order. I did not work for the blessing of Athena to let it go to waste in misconduct--" "Listen, I don't know what they've been saying but I'm pretty sure it's not correct," Kalen jumped in quickly, ready to defend his reputation. "I haven't--" "You're correct, bold and slightly stupid but correct," the headmaster stated with a slight edge to his voice. "But that's not what I'm talking about. People have been going missing, things are threatening the university and we need to put an end to it. Your... background will be incredibly helpful." Kalen leaned back in the chair, one elbow resting on the arm rest to his left. His was, albeit, intrigued. But his own piercing green eyes swiveled toward the knock and as another student entered with a kid on his shoulder. His eyebrow raised slightly before he swiveled his eyes to the headmaster. "No, you are supposed to be here," the man waved his hand, gesturing to the seat opposite of Kalen. "Crew Sinclair, this is Kalen Hemera. You ought to get acquainted with each other considering the nature of your new assignment." "Assignment?" Kalen replied, slightly offended and more than a little confused. "I beg your pardon?" "You don't have the money, Crew doesn't have the background. Together, you'll work together nicely," there again was the edge of a threat in his voice. "This University is designed to be a place of safety. We need to find out what is threatening the students. What threatens students, threatens the gods themselves." Kalen stifled his emotions about the gods and flicked over to Crew to see his reaction. "Should you succeed, you will be able to either become a god yourself, or, if that is not for you... you will have whatever you desire most." Kalen's eyebrows rose as he looked back at the Headmaster with surprise. |
| |
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Crew was only half listening, trying to keep Sterling entertained and quiet. A lot of people on the campus had no patience and tolerance for a little one, especially a noisy one. There were a few kind professors who had helped him quite a bit, especially when she was smaller, mostly because they had sympathy for a young father who was trying to finish his education. However, as the Headmaster started wrapping up his speech, Crew was already shaking his head.
"I can't! What about studies? What about my mum?! It's awful that people are getting hurt and disappearing, but I can't just drop everything and go. I know for a fact that this was not in the contract I signed when I got myself into this school of weirdos," he argued, not caring that he was dissing himself along with everyone else at the school. "What if *I* go missing? What happens to my parents? To my daughter?" He stood up, starting to pace the room, shaking his head.
"I haven't even heard of any disappearances. The classes are as full as ever, I don't even know half the people here anyways! I don't want to risk my life for people that wouldn't risk it for me. This is ridiculous!" In the background, he can hear the Headmaster making excuses and the other boy talking, but neither seem too concerned about his opinion in the whole matter. Swearing under his breath, he scowls at them both, and cuttingly responds with the words that were originally thrown at him.
"Whatever my heart desires? Or being a god?! I have all that my heart desires, thanks. I have a loving family, decent grades, and promising future. And godship? So I can watch my beloved daughter grow old and die, and I live on, alone, barely remembered, and existing only to father more demigods?" (Short, sorry ;.; I'm feeling horrid) |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
The way that this Crew fellow was already vehemently shaking his head proved to Kalen just how hard this entire endeavor was going to be. He had heard one line--godhood--and had already set himself on that fact. Perhaps he was just too predictable or perhaps the Headmaster knew full well what he was doing. Well, sort of. Kalen rolled his green eyes and leaned back to watch Crew pace back and forth. The student was clearly agitated and grew angrier and angrier with each word spoken. For him, it was amusing. But, a plan was forming the more he watched him irritate himself and throw himself into a rich-man's tantrum. Oh he'd seen those a time or two. But he was far more amused with the Headmaster. The headmaster provided replies as best he could to each of Crew's worries; What about studies?
"You can still continue them afterwards."
What about his mum? -- That one earned a rather short snort from Kalen.
"We'll keep track of her." It wasn't in the contract he signed up for!
"I'm aware, Mister Sinclair." School of weirdos? Well, Kalen couldn't entirely argue against that one. There were a lot of strange beings at this university. But he didn't fancy himself as one of the weirdos--well, as he preferred to look of course. What if he went missing?
"That is why you have a partner to work with, it is not a solo mission, Mister Sinclair!" However, the other student stood up and ignored most of what was being said by the Headmaster. Kalen crossed one leg over the other, his chin resting neatly in his fingers as he watched the father pace back and forth through veiled eyes. Kalen tutted finally, cutting off the headmaster. His chin lifted back as he spoke as a slow smile drifted over his lips. "Crew, Crew, you worry far too much. Disappearing doesn't mean dead, we all know that. Plenty of people would risk their life for yours, you just haven't met them yet." His arms lowered to cross over his chest. "Your heart's desire could be godhood for you and your daughter, after all... that's what they said. No stipulations," at least none that he had heard. Kalen finally stood up, slowly sashaying around the chair with that same lopsided sly grin etched in his eyes. "Besides, if you're really that adamant about not going... I guess I'll just have to go on my own," his head shook, looking forlornly out the window before his eyes slid to the corner to look for his reaction. "It wasn't supposed to be a solo mission... but I guess I have to function as if it is..." he trailed off, looking to the window. "No one else is that capable to help me as you are," Kalen rested his hands on the back of the chair, released a theatrical and resigned sigh before his eyes closed. As his chin lowered, turning his face toward the ground, he added the final words; "what's another life to give?" |
| |
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Crew's scowl deepened as each of his protests were met with cold, calm opposition, and he roughly set Sterling down in a chair, needing both hands to angrily gesture, trying to get his point across. He was angry that his life seemed so meaningless to these random strangers, even though there was nothing that said he was going to loose his life on this adventure. He was also upset that all the things he had thrown out as reasons he couldn't go had such quick answers, as if after they'd selected him, they'd come up with all the questions they'd known he was going to ask, so they could easily refute all his frustrated remarks. Crew ran a hand through his thick locks, still pacing the room. He didn't want to show his emotions, especially in front of his daughter, although she wasn't playing much attention anyways. The moment the other boy in the room started talking to him, Crew whirled around to face him, his normally genial features twisted in a mix of anger and pain. At the short, condescending words shot at him by Kalen, his jaw tightened, a tense muscle twitching across his cheek as his sharp gaze was firmly set on the man across from him. "Don't talk to me like I'm a child," he snarled, fully cutting off the headmaster. "I'm not an idiot, I just don't want to put myself in harm's way. I don't care if it sounds selfish, I have good reasons to be alive. I don't give two shits if 'disappeared' doesn't necessarily mean dead, what good am I to Sterling if I'm not present in her life?" At the overly dramatic movements made by Kalen, he rolled his eyes, moving back to stand behind the chair where he'd originally been seated, splitting his attention between his daughter, who was attentively trying to wiggle the button off his coat, the Headmaster, who was more red in the face than a tomato, and the irritating boy who was now draped over a chair across the room. His blue eyes surveyed the scene with distaste, wishing he could restart this morning, and just never come to this godforsaken meeting. As Kalen wrapped up his apparently unscripted play, Crew's jaw seemed to somehow get even more tense. "What is one more life?" he said, echoing the words back to him. "What is one more life?! One more life could be someone's best friend, someone's child? Surely you are something to someone, Mr. Hemera," He said sharply. "Somewhere, you have a mother, a friend, a future. Clearly, you are willing to give up your life for them, and I echo that sentiment. I would gladly give up my life for my daughter, my parents, even a random stranger. But why? Why were either of us chosen? This is a farce. No one is disappearing, obviously. I think it would be much more noticeable if students were dropping like flies. All my classes are full." He turned back to the Headmaster. "So, Sir, if I may be so bold, and at risk of sounding rude, spell it out for me like I'm an infant. Why was I selected? Clearly, there are many students here with much more sophisticated powers than mine. I will remind you, I manipulate light, and I can heal. That's all. This boy," he said, gesturing to Kalen, "who knows what he does? Clearly you do. So why put us together? Choose a student who is willing to go. I'm sure there are thousands of freaks here willing to give up their lives for this godforsaken campus." |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Kalen was rather impressed with how easily Crew attempted to pin emotions on him. It was almost stirring, pardoning the fact that his mother was gone, he didn't care and the mafia life was already enough for him to have forgotten that, oh, life means something. The haunting allure of being deathless, however, that was something he all-but craved. The life he lived, the title he was set to take up, that would be one to have forever if he couldn't die to mortal hands. Sure, he was selfish. It was just tied up in who he was. But as Crew went on about his way questioning why him, why them, a farce? Well, Kalen leaned back. "Perhaps we are in vastly different classes, Crew. I find more and more faces being replaced daily. There is a large amount of turn-over in my classes, perhaps they are still full--to an extent--but not with the same people." The headmaster put his face, redder than leaves on the oak tree outside, in his hands. "We can't just outright say it," he finally mumbled. "It would cause mass panic. We would lose more demigods, more people in panic and chaos than keeping it low. We have creatures searching for the missing, but we need to find the source of the disappearances. If they are connected, if they are not." Kalen sniffed idly and moved from the chair to gracefully make his way to the window, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. "Bold of you, firstly, to assume I care firstly about my life, Crew. Not everyone has the perfect little life you have, not everyone has a loving caring family, a mother and father--presently--or siblings... not everyone has old-money and the riches to have such," his voice held a sort of amusement, rather than venom, to his tone. To love, in the mafia, was reserved solely for those who you could trust with your life. While Kalen had more than a few of those himself, he also had many he couldn't care less about. He addressed the second point with a snort; "Mr. Hemera, tch, so ... uptight. Kalen, is what I prefer. But, again, bold of you to assume that I have so-called sophisticated powers as well. I don't. All I am is right here in front of you," minus the brilliant wings that he also wore. But that was not a piece of him he liked to admit he had. A man, raised in the darkness of the Italian fronts, with the brightest milky white wings--like an angel? Oh, heavens no, he would be laughed out of existence. He quickly averted from that question and went on the offensive in return to Crew's upfront jabs at himself; "So, pretty boy, tell me why can't you go? Hmm? Oh, I have a daughter--she has a mother. Oh, I'm a son. So was I. Oh, I just heal--well, I sure can't," Kalen let out a short bark of laughter. The Headmaster waved one hand. "We don't know what we're dealing with," he stated. "Kalen has a background that will help with the dark ways. Your title and old money will help in more sophisticated places. If we send demigods with sophisticated powers they put off a powerful aura, they'll be noticed immediately. You two are some of the least suspicious students we have here. Your studies will be resumed when you return. No detriment to them." Kalen looked back toward Crew with a somewhat serious look--surprisingly. It seemed so much darker than his flashy smiles, theatrical grins and the likes. A lack of light behind his piercing green eyes. "I mean, we could find someone else. But eh, that's more time wasted trying to figure out who to find, who has the same ties you do, who has the title, the old money, the way-in to parties and the likes which is just more time that other people will go missing but you won't notice because all your classes are full. So hey, why not, let's just waste time." |
| |
|
Spring 
Night Weather: 
Heavy Rain Moon: 
