+ S P E N C E R +
Traveler. Magician. Dragon Rider. Swordsman. Librarian.
H u m a n // E l f
A g e l e s s - U n k n o w n
H e / H i m | T h e y / T h e m
S p i r i t ? D e c e a s e d .
N o K i n L e f t - A m o n g f r i e n d s .
x
“ You might be wondering how this could have happened… ”
Spencer knows little of his origin. Date of birth. Where he was born. What grounds he walked upon in his youth. He knows not of his father, not the color of his mother's eyes. Even the man's own name comes as a mystery he woke up without. The one he bares presently was something ... given, after he found himself awake midst a plane of grass he did not recognize, all the same. What Spencer did remember, however, was a sensation. The coldness, as it had grasped hold of him. It felt as if falling into an utterly heavy, yet peaceful sleep... He knew little of what he was, let alone who. He started walking. There was nothing else that could be done. He had risen in a prairie-esque plane that seemed to spread onward no matter what direction his head would turn. Spencer walked until he reached a point of familiarity in the form of a small village some thirty kilometers from the place he had woken up within. The village came with hospitality, yet held very few hints. No answers.
“ To decipher it was one thing... Controlling it was another. ”
For the early years, the world was an undoubtedly strange place. He recognized nothing of his surroundings or sense of self. He slowly came to the realization that he was capable of things beyond the average man whether he liked it or not. The capabilities, in the earlier times... lacked any direction or control. The occasional passing through objects was a problem that shook him not long since he had woken up. His form was corporeal, yet at times, only loosely. It was truly as if his body and soul wrestled to commit between a physical or spectral form without any indication of what kept them tethered. It would happen in a bout of panic, or the wrong twitch of a muscle. Often he couldn't recollect what seemed to cause the shift and changed his form to something far less physical and very much... ephemeral in nature. It would come over him like a cold mist, and left a tingling sensation throughout his nervous system.
At first, it was just his fingertips. Then his wrists. Soon it was whole portions of his being that seemed to pass through its environment on a whim and leave him stricken with panic on how to make it stop, only to make matters worse. Spencer was stumbling straight through walls and phasing through objects on a whim during the early years of his newfound life, where the anomaly was creating more immediate questions than he had to start with. Among the strange symptoms, Spencer noticed how seldom he had felt exhaustion since he started waking. He walked for a few days from where he had started before he felt any urge to sleep, and hunger likewise. His body still felt the aches and pains of being alive, although it was as if it felt numb to what it truly meant. With every time he lost control of his form, the ends of his hair had quickly started to lose its color, spare a short length closest to the roots. These changes among others brought forth a rough transitional period where he struggled to have a grasp on anything around him. Eventually, these skills were to be trained with the right amount of mastery over the years.
“ She called it a gift, like it was something given to the world. ”
Spencer had come to a point where he had lost all sense of what to do with his situation. Time dragged onward for longer than a lifetime, and he was faced with the realization of immortality that grew more evident as the number counted upward. He had traveled, he had remembered and forgotten countless names, and yet found no answers as to what had occurred. His nomadic life eventually took him South, across the seas and over mountains in pursuit of anyone that might offer information. His first encounter that could offer such things came from his passing through the bustling streets of Amsterdam in the early 1600s. He met a curious soul. The woman seemed to stare him down from a distance like she could sense just what he felt to be off about himself. She spoke questions and statements that felt like they were pulled straight from his head, and for the first time in his immortal life, he had answers.
“ You are a spirit, my dear boy. You are as real as this world around you, and yet this world does not own you. You will watch its trees rise and fall with each passing life. You shall experience beyond that of your fellow man. How will you use this gift? This curse? Will you choose to see it like so? ”
Natalia was a practitioner of magic, and most adept in her craft. She was the person to shed light on Spencer's spectral dilemma, possible heritage, and one of the few that looked at him like his claims were not outright insanity. She introduced him to her studies and assisted him in utilizing the magic that had been gifted at birth and recessive in his veins all those years. Spencer spent the next decade or so under her wing in Amsterdam, researching just what the nature of his origins might have been, and learning to utilize that magic for healing purposes when the world greatly needed it. When it came time to leave Amsterdam and continue on with his searching, he was promised a place in the city should he ever return, if he were to look for it.
To this day, he isn't sure what she is, or where her knowledge she possesses has come from. Any questioning throughout the years was met with riddles or parables to send him in circles. In the seldom times he finds himself in the region, he is sure to make his visit to the woman who has changed as little as he has over the centuries. She remains a mentor, good friend, and the first one to confirm he wasn't crazy all along. Following his departure from the Netherlands, he resumed his traveling for the next century or so, using what he had been taught at each stopping point as he went.
“ I paused only for a moment to ponder what was asked of me. ”
Fate brought him into the Nightwing Empire where his nomadic life changed for the next several centuries. It was an accidental stumbling into where two-legged kind stepped foot merely on occasion and the territory seemed to span onward without an end. He soon came to learn that within it dwells dangerous creatures and beasts alike. Dragons commanded the air, with their dens settled within the mountains and deep within the chasms of its valleys. Warbeasts lingered within the darkest of the forested regions and the swamps of the neighboring lowlands. The region came not without conflict, whether it was between the beasts, or from the external influence of hunters, slayers, or militant forces alike. Although prone to friction, wartime, and hardly a peace-filled place, soon enough he called the mountains and trees of the regions as home. He fit in among the vast array of species with ease and called them as friends.
When fate would throw him into shock once more, Spencer eventually found himself worthy of being chosen as a Rider to one of the larger dragons within the Nightwing Empire. Chanook was someone who quickly had become familiar. While he had grown to no longer fear the dragon, Spencer ultimately came to regard him with the utmost respect. Due to his physicality, the man was not readily affected by the high altitudes, nor the storms that Chanook brought forth in flight. His first flights were among the more interesting moments during this era, but soon enough he had learned to stay steady in the sky with ease. Spencer set himself forth to become an excellent Rider and swordsman. With the skills learned, and the harsh environment the territory offered, Nightwing shaped Spencer as a formidable fighter when he would need it, and a peacekeeper at his core when he did not.
“ All truly great things come at a risk of being lost. ”
As the conflict would eventually come to pass, the territory now shows signs of its age and scars. The enemies have long departed. The hostile beasts settled their disputes, and all in all... with the conclusion of such hostile events, the territory was left with an odd amount of silence. The Empress came to rest at the bottom of one of Nightwing's lakes. Her second in command, Skya, rests in a shrine-like state deep in her mountain den. Spencer still watches over the late dragoness' horde of a library and doctors their pages in his passing time. Among the absences and tragedies, Spencer had been parted from his dragon for reasons that still remain unknown. He knows little of Chanook's whereabouts, nor his condition. While Riders generally feel sensations of their partner's wellbeing or status, he feels little other than emptiness when he attempts to reach out. His only hint is that the connection can still be felt, leading him to believe his dragon is out there. The thoughts weigh heavily on his mind to the point where Spencer has achingly resorted to trying not to think about it at all. He keeps his hopes up to see the dragon's return, just as long as the connection is still felt.
“ And so we march on. ”
Following the fall of Nightwing, the man found himself in a period of travel that spanned several decades. Along with clearing his headspace, he was in pursuit of any hints or clues that may lead to Chanook's whereabouts no matter how small the chances might have been. The drawn-out journey nearly brought him across the Earth in doing so. The ex-Rider would pick up many other useful skills and mementos on his way. He heightened his mastery in a small variety of languages, as well as his study of healing magic that had been partially set aside during the last conflicts of the Empire. His traveling had become as much of a pilgrimage as it was a search for Chanook. He returned to hid home in Nightwing years later as a successful Swordsman, historian, and a more proficient Mage. Just as soon as he would settle, he also resumed his role as Librarian to the Nightwing collection as well as his own.
Thirty years have passed since Spencer returned to his home within Nightwing's Western edge of the territory, to which he comes and goes on occasion. Weapons of old battles have been set aside ever since. His shelves are littered with artifacts from his time spent traveling. A collection of books and magical supplies are stacked and housed just about everywhere to make the interior rather claustrophobic to newcomers. His home stands as something more likely to be found on accident than sought out, nestled in the trees. He resumes his studies rather diligently, hardly seen without a bag over his shoulder and a book within reach. His primary endeavor included fresh attempts at deciphering an old tome that had been entrusted to him by Skya prior to her passing.
“ I opened that book and Hell came from its pages... ”
-Wip-
The book was a gift. He didn't know the importance at the time the dragoness gifted it into his hands. Skya spoke of the discovery in her collection, like it could offer the wandering spirit of a man all the answers he had been hunting for so long. Her eyes had seen something he has yet to find in its conflicting, cryptic pages. The book's author is unknown. As to the writing contained inside, one page to the next is a labyrinth of coded twists and turns that would leave any linguist or philologist perplexed. Over the years the man had all but given up on the object that sat dusty on the shelf over his workbench. It served as an old memory for a friend that had eventually passed on without granting him any more secrets on why she had given it to him in the first place.
“ It's always the furthest corner, the overlooked space... if history hasn't erased it.
Dark Arts and magical studies alike have not been a favorite of history. ”
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“ I'll finish the war I never knew I started. ”
On his person, there are a handful of items kept handy as a constant throughout the years. Spencer keeps a messenger bag slung over his shoulder that has considerable wear-and-tear to its edges. Despite it, the bag is laced with its own magical properties. Within it, a journal or two are usually kept to catalog what he comes across during his travel away from Nightwing, along with writing materials. Precariously, the longsword he carried as a Rider is hidden within the bag and can be pulled out at a moment's notice, defying the physics of the small bag when it appears in full. A small array of weapons and other survivalist material accompany it. A spare change of clothes or two is kept on standby. He keeps a spellbook handy with a series of useful spells, diagrams, incantations, and objects to assist, should he need them. He usually has a free-reading book, alongside the mysterious grimoire that has caused him misfortune over time. In more recent years, he also carries an outdated brick of a cell phone that he claims no expertise in using.
+ Now Carrying :
[The Water Nation Handbook] [Lore of The Invictus]
[The ??? Grimoire] [Traveler's Spellbook] [Field Notes]
“ And so, I learned to walk tall...
but I walked taller among them than I ever was alone. ”
Travelers. Friends. Mentors. Comrades.
TEMPEST
“ Spencer had his hands full from the moment he first encountered the Water Drake. He was traveling the coast of Nightwing when Tempest came barreling in, and proved to be the first sign of anything draconic that Spencer had seen in countless years. Tempest is considerably younger than the dragons the Ex-Rider had been accustomed to. While testing his patience at times, the Drake has sparked some life back in the melancholic rider after the years spent alone in the territory. The two have since teamed up in their traveling when Temp was not the only thing that washed up from the shore: with great fortune came great dangers when the threat of a tsunami means that something else is looming under the sea floor, threatening Nightwing's main land. The task of getting to the bottom of the disturbance has paired the two together, and effectively dragged Spencer out of his element. ”
CASSELLA
“ The woman had Spencer's utmost curiosity from the moment they spoke to one another. She was all the things he didn't expect to run into on accident, but in truth, Cass was someone wrongfully drawn into his troubles at a time when he might have needed her most. Following a run-in late at night at a library, the night was filled with mischief for survival-sake. It was also filled with chatter when he realized she was a linguist, scholar, mage, and plenty of other things he has yet to decipher. The two are now travel partners as she graciously offered her skills to help him in deciphering the book in his possession that has proven to be most dangerous. Spencer worries about the reprocaution of bringing another person into his personal troubles with the book. On the same token, so rarely does he travel with someone so formidible. ”
CAELESTRA
“ Cael was met by pure circumstances of walking by a park bench at the right time to hear a phone ring. After taking up the task of returning it to the rightful owner, he now finds himself in Birdie's Emporium where the quaint storefront holds its promises to anyone that walks in. Spencer can sense something is strange about the woman, but hasn't quite placed what it is yet. Only time will tell what [More to come]. ”
NEMO
“ The two met by chance during one of Spencer's rare visits to the city, where the library doors closed early and had locked the two in for the night. After becoming acquainted while sneaking back out using Spencer's abilities to do so, it took the walk back to the boy's apartment to decipher that the two had something in common. While Spencer had studied magic for a large portion of his life, Nemo's skillset held more promise than he could imagine at such a young age. Despite how long the two could have visited and chatted, their meeting was relatively short that night. Lone behold, the short meeting opened the door for a visit that would come a few years later when Spencer would need his assistance most [More to come]. ”
IRRLITH [NPC]
“ Irrlith was a visitor to Nightwing not from another continent, but from the outer edges of space. Not much is known about the beast aside from his origins being somewhere distant and the looming fact that Earth's gravity is what trapped him here after a crash landing many, many years ago. The space beast has taken up refuge in the territory after conflict with humans and remained for quite some time under the Earth Nation's ground when Nightwing grew dormant. That was, until recently, when Spencer and Tempest woke the behemoth from its slumber in order to help them with the task of keeping the beast's second home safe. Not much is known about Irrlith's origins or biology, but he seems to have a sense of trust toward Spencer who is always looking for what he can learn about the brute. ”
RAIYA
“ Raiya will forever be Spencer's best friend when it comes to two-legged kind. She resided in Nightwing well before he ended up there, and the two grew attached at the hip once Spencer had taken the oath as a Rider. Having once been one herself, she was responsible for much of his advice while training, as well as the swordsmanship he honed during that era. The two have fought, struggled, and laughed, and are always up to something when they cross each other's paths. Rai has since moved on from the territory and runs her supernatural shop known as Omnia. Spencer pays a visit on sparse occasions, allowing the two to pick up their friendship right where it leaves off. Time has changed how often they might see one another, but some things never change. ”
CLOUDFEATHER
“ No practitioner of magic is complete without a loyal familiar. Cloudfeather is a leucistic red tailed hawk that can often be seen in off in the distance whenever Spencer finds himself far enough from the cities for her to follow. The raptor is capable of flying miles on end when needed to deliver messages in times of need, or exchanges between Raiya and Spencer when they find themselves apart. Cloudfeather has a seemingly mystical connection with the man, when no matter where his travels take him she is bound to find where he is once called. The bird is clever beyond its appearance and reliable beyond measure. She leaves his side only when delivering, occasionally switching roles with Raiya's own hawk, Cyr. ”
ZORIKO
“ Having first gotten to know Zoriko as a hatchling, she is the daughter of Skya and a dragon of the sky underneath her human facade. The dragoness was someone Spencer had the privlege of re-acquainting with after his absence from the territory when she actively sought him out following the advice of another former Rider. After re-acquainting from when she was young, Spencer took upon himself the task of teaching her magic from the ground up, helping the young dragoness tap into the magic that flows through her veins just as his own mentor did for him. After some time of training together, the two eventually parted ways. To this day he hasn't seen Zoriko again, but thinks back to their magic lessons together fondly when it was a time that his house didn't seem quite as empty. ”
“ Until we meet again. ”
CHANOOK
“ To this day, Spencer still looks back in wonder to the moment where he had been asked to become a Rider. His partner was none other than Chanook, a dragon of rolling thunder and electricity that stood as a general among war beasts in Nightwing. While others knew him as a goliath, to his Rider, he was a lumbering beast at times and above all, his guardian and most trusted friend. The two spent their days in close proximity and fought wars by one anothers' side. Following the last conflicts of the territory, the two became separated and the man has carried a hole in his chest ever since. Spencer still believes that Chanook is out there due to the feint, yet present connection between the two that has not yet been severed. As a result, he has an occasional knack for dropping what he is doing at the slightest hint of a lead toward his whereabouts. ”
SKYA
“ Spencer saw much of the dragoness during the height of Nightwing, down unto the end. Sibling to Chanook, Skya was second in command to the Empress and was a formidable force come times of conflict. However, Spencer knew her first and foremost by the library hidden deep within her den near the center of the territory. He was a trusted visitor over time and has been responsible for the upkeep and mending of the books within it for countless years. He knows every main twist and turn to reach the hidden collection, down to the dragoness' den. Since her passing, the room has erupted with plant life, where she remains in a shrine-like state to present day. He vows to keep up his work of guarding the collection under her keep for as long as he is able. ”
NOVAK
“ The two first met in the earlier years of Spencer's settling in Nightwing as a crossing of paths, and they would come to meet again by the time the territory grew dormant. To the deities and spirits that had their eye on Novak, Spencer's spiritual nature being present was a trigger for alarm. Little did they know that their meeting would turn into a chase that would lead them to a chase that sent them cross-continent. The end of their trek lead them straight into the Underworld in order to settle the issue once and for all. As fate was never kind to either men before meeting, things hadn't gone as planned. What the spirit gained was his life and peace from being pursued. What he lost was the friend that had his back through it all. Spencer isn't sure what happened to Novak in the end, or whether he still exists somewhere in the realm below. The thought weighs heavily on his mind. ”
[OOC: Things are coming together.]
+ Active Threads :
Tempest | Water Nation Temple | "Did you say a sorcerer?"
Cassella | Melbourne, State Library Victoria | "He's gone..?"
Raiya | Letters via Hawks | "I'm so happy to see you."
Unity (AU) | On The Highway | "Who's side are they on?"
This character originates from around 2011-2012, and much of the lore and stories told originate from events written within that timeline until now. As a writer, especially with Spence here, I'm fairly lenient with response times. He is a 'support' character primarily, but I have a few goals I would like to finish in his plotline yet. Great starting locations include libraries, cafes, the woods, natural landmarks... although I can put Spencer anywhere, he has versatility in settings. | FC: Nariman Malanov
Ghost Stories
Coming Soon..?
Heaven, let me come stay?
What would it cost
How would I pay?
Please just, save me a place
Tired and I'm awake. "
Comments
“Okay~ Something's up with that bag. How’re you putting so much stuff in there at once?” With his emerald irises narrowed out of mild suspicion, the former rider was questioned about the item and its properties. After all the secrets Spencer had heard about, he certainly owed an explanation for said object.
His left hand extended outward to wrap his digits around the top of a dust-covered chair, primarily made from polished oak wood. He placed the seat right past the left corner of Spencer’s table, swinging himself around to park his rear on it. “Knowing how long he’s probably been in there, the guy is probably starving. It kind of makes me wonder what he eats…” It was almost morbid to visualize what their titanic friend did to his prey, especially with how much it would take to feed such a behemoth.
“Is it mostly because he doesn’t open up to other peeps? Or more so that nobody has chosen to become close to him?” The wingless reptile asked him, eager to find out if their cosmic ally had anyone he considered a friend, or if Irrilith never allowed it. Tempest subconsciously hoped that such a being from a war-torn world was able to comprehend it, and not be a foreign concept to him. In his mind, the only way to find out for certain was to approach the Brute later and try it.
During their conversation, the Phantom Child took a leap off both skeletal feet to land on a couch right across the table. The ship’s little marionette planted both knees down, placing its elbows down to prop its own chin up using its bare iron hands. It’s head faced them directly as if listening in on their discussion. A cylindrical plastic case it had been carrying was placed aside, which from the looks of it held some sort of papers rolled up inside.
Spencer held the door open for her and stepped aside so she could enter. A smile took to her face as she reciprocated his greeting. Taking her beige ankle boots off at the door, and heading toward the living room, to set her books down atop the coffee table; After a moment, sitting down. She wore baggy-fit rust coloured cardigan, and medium blue torn jeans, torn by her knees and a few slimmer tears right above. Her blouse was black, with orange coloured blossoms on it.
"How have you been for the last few months? Has anything new happened since the last time I visited?"
"I learned quite a bit, mostly studying the anatomy of humans, elves, and dragons. I've learned that Elves and humans are quite alike in more ways than first imagined. For example, when a human breaks a bone, it needs to be held in the proper position for a few months to properly heal, mending itself, a slow and painful process. When an elf breaks a bone, the healing process is nearly identical, except the time it takes to heal. Elves heal exceptionally quickly, even the most severe of breaks and gashes taking but a few days to heal. This is effectively what keeps them from aging."
She paused for a moment, and took a slow breath, closing her eyes to do so. She spoke rather quickly, a tone of excitement, a bit bewildered at this point that the prospect of becoming a healer had never occurred to her until this moment. He asked if she'd wanted something to drink. Ruby hues gleamed slightly as the corners of her mouth curved upwards in a slight smile: "Coffee please" she responded. She interlaced her fingers, setting her hands on her lap, leaning forward just a bit, in an effort to get comfortable. Silver hair was worn half up in a bun, the rest hanging in loose curls. She brought her hand up now, brushing a few locks out of her face. The quartz ring she wore on her right index finger acted like a prism, reflecting a rainbow sheen from the warm rays of the sun peeking through the window.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, and when he'd turn around, a chuckle would escape her. He was acting as her father again, offering food and drinks the way he did. For a bit, he had reminded her of Lenn. So she asked.
"How is Lenn doing?"
It had been a while since she'd come by, and she was excited to hear about what was next to come
"I'll be keeping an eye out in case somebody else shows up. Maybe more of your friends from the good ole days will come back." His aquatic friend mentioned with some enthusiasm, which was expressed by the soft smile plastered across his face. "But yeah, there's a shit load of things to see in that library. I think the reason it has so much is because all the prior owners of this old boat kept hoarding and piling up new books in there, over time it just filled up. Guess Gleeon kept the trend going before everybody left, including myself." He noted, giving Spencer some insight as to how the collection came to be after the Dominion war.
“After everything we’ve seen here, I think you’re right. Something about this place does bring people together, human or not, it’s like a rabbit hole. Even the ship was drawn here. Then again, it is a sentient being just like the rest of us, a soul bottled up into the body of a machine.” As he elaborated some of the ancient lands and Invictus, the hooded figure extended its iron skeletal hands to clasp a slightly rusted, bronze compass left sitting out on a glass table between him and Tempest. Their mechanical ally began turning it over in its cold digits, opening the front to see its arrow rotating to face north.
“If you’re ready, let’s do it.” With an exhale of air leaving his nostrils, the azure haired male unfolded both legs and planted his feet on the floorboards, rising up to arch his spine for a much-needed stretch. Upon turning, he’d walk back inside the superstructure while a certain manifestation of the ship clung to Spencer’s shoulder again for another ride.
--------------------
It took him several minutes to dig around for what they’d need, such as blankets, pillows, and sheets, all of which were still fresh since they had been sitting around in baskets. To spare the rider the hassle of wearing the same clothes again, a clean shirt and a pair of jeans from Gleeon’s dresser was offered since they were the closest fit. At one point had almost tripped down the stairs from carrying his half there.
As for his own personal setup, the sheets were evenly spread out across one of the several couches, pillows already laid out, two blankets stacked on top, and a small pile of clothes off to the side for tomorrow, nothing outstanding.
With his rear firmly planted on the floor and both legs folded up Indian-style, Tempest had laid out a mild assortment of snacks, consisting of unopened sour cream and onion potato chips, some packets of crackers that remained fresh, and a bag of gummy bears. On the side was a stack of three books, with their titles listed as: Discovering the Silentium, Onyx Corporation Insider, Norman Skybox: Project Blue Reptile. Multiple lamps across their vicinity in the library were turned out to provide some much-needed illumination while everything outside their windows had become nearly pitch black.
“Sorry I couldn’t get us something more- filling to munch on, most of the stuff in the kitchen as you saw earlier is long_expired. Good thing I tossed that milk out though.” A brief shiver ran down his spine, followed by a snicker parting his lips at the thought of seeing that chunky, moldy dairy product from when he raided the pantry. “A shame big beefy boy couldn’t join us or it’d be a party.” The young drake said with a low smile, shrugging. “He’s an interesting one to chat with.”
As they’d converse again, the ship’s possessed figure was already sitting beside wherever Spencer was, unsurprisingly it hadn’t left his side.
"And when he does, you gotta try to see him dead before he lands a hit or two." Which is always easier said than done. She said it without any shred of remorse as if this was simply another duty to roll sleeves over and wash her hands after. Just like how she was, in that little coffee shop earlier. "And make sure he'll never rise again. Ever." Cass gently punctuated that. "People think I'm fickle for the most part but I'm not changing my mind on this one. Besides, if ever it escalates, it's most likely that I'll be called in to deal with it anyway. It's just a matter of time."
There was the root of all their troubles, and right now, it was in their hands. It was better to be chased than to do all the chasing. Maybe just tonight... they can breathe easy.
Spencer's reaction to Colby delivered obvious amusement between the two who were watching the whole thing unfold. Cassella, with that usual grin on her face, as if getting a kick out of each and every surprise poking along the way. And Oria, who did seem happy enough that these secrets would be safely kept, while equally fussing about shaking the refrigerator at the same time--whining about the 'poor' food and the bottles inside. "We tried to get reports for what's up with him before. Both biologically and any involvement of sorcery. The Dominion's history has a better explanation for that. He's not the only one."
All eyes finally fell upon the cat that was still clawing at the toy, tumbling on the floor just near the staircase. Even with all the stares, Toast didn't seem to mind, which was quite typical for a cat. "Would be fantastic if he can do it like on TV, but he's the only normal thing in this household," Oria chuckled. "Or maybe not as normal since he's the only feline in the neighborhood that doesn't want to claw my face off. Sirens ain't in good terms with lots of other predators, you see."
That can perhaps explain the glimpse of fangs, the forked tongue and the keen senses that came along with it. Such fact was revealed ever so nonchalantly as if it was the next norm.
--
For the times that he averted his eyes away from her, Cassella was a mixture of emotions that even she had difficulty in discerning. All that was left was her hunched before her plate, brows perpetually knitted over the entire matter.
Maybe it was pained relief. That smile was sincerely returned. As he recounted the events of the things that he did and the places he has been, she simply nodded. "I've heard a few things...mostly stories." Cassella gradually replied. It was as if this was being worded carefully. "About quieter times before chaos set in. When hunters and a few hostile creatures in between were the only ones that impose a threat. They’ve told about hierarchies of beasts and how man was integrated along. Not just in the mountains but also in the waters." War has a thing of entirely tearing things apart, however. If there was one thing that she hated after an empire’s battle, that would be the sudden deathly silence. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “When things got awry in the East and we were caught up in our own affairs, word of the conflict did spread far and wide.”
“Have you been there?”
“Not upon its grounds, no.” Cassella took a deep breath as if intending to continue. She didn’t. She had to listen in to something else...something far more interesting. The other two’s interest was visibly piqued the moment Spencer reached into describing this certain dragon with complete reverence for a friend. Oria’s button eyes were wide, pupils dilated fully. Colby was of course, shocked. Rays of hope actually shone through those faces, a story firmly grasped over any amount of skepticism, momentarily forgetting that it has a tragic pause. A quiet ‘oh’ punctuated this, it was almost painful to draw out.
"For creatures so big and gigantic they can be absurdly difficult to find." Oria groaned. "I honestly thought we're the only one having difficulties at this point. And nobody knows where to look." Her voice softened. "How many decades have you been searching for him?"
Colby took a moment to take it all in. They’re most likely talking about decades. If not, centuries. “Damn, man, your dedication is extraordinary…” his voice trailed off as he scratched his head. Perhaps, extraordinary is the word, indeed. After all, it was a bond never meant to be underestimated by all means. There was the looming thought that they might have been facing the exact estimate regarding the odds. “I wouldn’t blame you if you turned over the entire world for him, we’ll do the same.” He seemed a bit calmer at this point, far from his childish displays earlier. And apparently, their complaints, their efforts for the past year or two were minuscule compared to his. “This is just the first year that we’ve fuckin’ lost them. And here we are, thinking we can complain about it.”
Cassella stood up, collecting empty plates and utensils for the dishwasher. "I'd let you guys explain what’s going on, I'll prepare the guestroom for Spencer."
With the plump cat trailing her ankles, Oria only watched as the pale woman jogged upstairs, bag and all. "Just keep the lights on all night! Even the hallway!" She called after, even though she wasn't certain if it was even heard. She was silent, offering refills for tea, eventually drumming her fingers quietly. "Alright, where to even begin..."
“I’ll do it.” The ginger interrupted, volunteering to be the one who’d provide said context before he went through with doing so. “Because you were so bloody honest and straightforward, I’m going to let you in on some wild shit, and I expect there to be no repeats of this convo outside this house. Sound good?”
Should their guest agree, Colby began. “Kay, so it was years back, and I had just gotten out of high school. While on a boardwalk to get some drinks, some ole douche tried robbing me with a knife. Being the unrefined bitch boy I was back then, I had another rage fit and hurled a dumpster at ‘em. After hitting him, it slammed into a boat on the docks while some black haired dude in the back witnessed the whole thing. After that, he walks up and asks about what I did and how any man could do such. So cops are called, and before we knew it, we’re both being chased. Later that day he told me that he’s running some mobile safe house for special people. I took his offer since I’d probably be looking at some serious jail time and a lawsuit for trashing some rich fucker’s precious yacht. Then he brings me to this big ass ship, I brought all my games and belongings before taking a nice room.
Turns out that the guy himself--Gleeon, was some kind of hybrid. Long story short, his bitch of a mom left him when he was itty bitty, somebody else adopted him, and then he went through a lot of shit throughout his life. He was really nice though, the dude was one of the few people I had ever opened up to. It was there that I met a couple of weird peeps who weren’t human. Then… I met one, a real, mother-fuck’n dragon he was friends with. And we’re not talking about something like Smaug, more like- a wingless water draggo. I didn’t like him at first, but over time I just kinda warmed up to him. He got along pretty well with Oria and her sisters after they came into the picture, always the goofy idiot that could make anybody laugh.”
“He’s annoying at first, picking at me to no end,” Oria muttered. “Tempest...that’s his name. Figured that one of my sisters just sucks in finding a mate, he’s childish and pokes is nose into things, but hey, turns out he ain’t so bad. After all, he rescued my sister in the first place. We even prank people from time to time. That’s before...however. Before it turned into shit when that...that thing turned up. We really thought we can finally live in peace. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.”
“It came in a storm, that thing.” Thing...as if the word monster will never suffice. Her expression only became darker from there. Gradually, she whispered. "It's been a year... a year and a half, I think. Or more. That shit fucked us up, in many ways more than one. I used to be able to feel where my sisters are. Each of our brood, each from every lair. We relied on it. That... instinctive tug to the heart that you know something familiar resides there. It's that bond." She paused. Her hands were trembling. Out of anger, terror, maybe a mixture of both. "But this one, it's like everyone else just vanished. I don't want to say dead-- Ria taught us better than that. But to us sirens who relied on that feeling more than how we do with our eyes, it's a disability.
Cass told me that she accessed the ship’s memories and she found no evidence that someone died that night. Just the ocean throwing a fit... the footage didn't even capture it rampaging in the place. It’s all teeth and eyes and despair--" Taking a few deep breaths, she leaned forward. “And I’m fucking glad it didn’t. Because we know Cass, she'll be hunting that thing as soon as she gets her stuff in order if she knew and she wouldn't stand a damn chance. Just because she keeps on fucking respawning doesn't mean she should." The siren cringed visibly--bitterly, hating the truth that laced that.
In a way, Cassella was right. Maybe it’s Spencer’s presence, maybe it's his subtle honesty, but these were the things that they never told her. How many times the two have lied for a question repeatedly asked, no one knows. They chose to reveal this to a guest, of all things, instead of a friend they trust for years, and for a very good reason, a favor that might be too high of a price.
"The Ocean Mother whispered to stop searching for the others… for our safety, she says. Of course, we’re not giving in. Whatever you hear here, you don't have to tell her. If you want her around, that is.” She shook her head. Oria finally stood for the night's clean up. As if leaving those troubles to the table, she sighed. "We're making this more difficult, aren't we? Sorry, man. You've already got a lot in hand. But it's not your problem, so don't worry much about it. Guestroom's the last door in the hall upstairs, adjacent to the bathroom. House's not haunted aside from Toast's fatass nagging to be fed at 2 am, so you should be alright."
Zoriko approached the cottage now, books in hand, very focused expression on her face. Her mind still occupied with the anatomy of a human as well as some other common creatures. The anatomy did not change very much, though through her studies she learned that the care for the same injury in a human is completely different from the care she would give to an elf.
The more she read about it, the more she understood the medicinal ways of the elves, and how it was unlike any human she had ever seen. The very order in which care is given as well is completely different. Most other differences were subtle. For instance, an elf can withstand much more blood loss than a human. In fact, the circulatory systems of elves work slightly differently. It was these subtle changes that allowed the Elves longevity, and the humans a century at most.
Healing was becoming Zoriko's new passion, and she wondered if perhaps after she learned to heal if she should open a clinic. The small details were to be worked on, but for now, this seemed much more appealing to her than the magazine corporation she worked for.
Those thoughts were quickly cast aside, as she raised her porcelain hands, giving the door a few firm and rhythmic knocks. The rhythm she always knocked with so that Lenn and Spencer would know it was her knocking.
And there she waited, for someone to answer, eager to continue learning her new craft
His seemingly endless glare at the open cliff range further out was broken by the drone’s movements, and upon seeing this, he leaned over for a closer inspection. Those emerald orbs of his kept a close watch on the little beasty as it made its way back to the original owner, where it soon placed itself back. A few blinks of minor astonishment were given after their hulking friend decided to rest. “Okay, now that’s kinda cool.”
With a certain question being posed by the man himself, a pause followed until Tempest could respond. “Slowly but surely I gave up. After eight months I started losing hope and focused more on just living alone, always the cycle of finding food, watching for boats, and sleeping somewhere in a place where no humans will find me. Once that one year mark came up, that’s when I quit.” Some insight as to what his new lifestyle was like had been provided, and a vague idea on when all efforts in searching for others ceased. It was a memory that left him awfully silent when keeping a fist under his chin for support.
“Since meeting you on the beach, I thought you might have followed my footprints or something. A lot of things tend to happen by accident, including how I met everyone, including you.” Spencer’s words on the mattered were agreed upon as he briefly straightened out his spine for a stretch, then hunched back over. His mind was riddled with ideas and daydreams on unexpectedly coming across one of his long lost friends someday, and hopefully that one sea serpent he formed a relationship with.
The Sea Drake cast a glance at their little visitor, who oddly enough happened to be the very entity they took shelter in. A nod was given when hearing the Rider’s comment, something they both suspected earlier but never addressed until now, along with one particular room he was asked about. “Actually, there is! It’s huge though, just shelf after shelf filled to the brim with all sorts of books, new and old, but mostly old. It’s the same place where a friend of mine taught me how to read and write.” He answered with a slight, upward tug at both corners on his lips, clearly that location in the ship had some fond memories. “It used to be some lounge or smoking room when Gleeon first got it, then he started piling up collections of books, probably from closed libraries since the Internet killed most of ‘em.” It was a somewhat depressing thought with how advancements in technology eliminated most demand for them, but still managed to explain how the Invictus’s previous owner got a hold of so much if it were as vast as Tempest described.
“Ya know.” His much younger ally popped up before continuing. “There was one novel Exoria convinced me to try to test my reading skills. I think it was called- Dragon Rider? It was a kids book, but a lot of stuff in it reminds me of Nightwing, thinking about it now. Reading that made me wonder long ago if there existed someplace where a bunch of dragons live together.” He explained while in thought, lightly stroking his forehead with his own digits.
“If we could find some sleeping bags, it’d be a fun place to spend the night, as much as I like mattresses.”
“Half Hydra actually, the other fifty-percent being dragon. Xeryssa once said that his mom was the multi-headed one with his dad being a full-blooded draggo, not sure how that relationship worked though…” Just the thought of it alone sent a shiver down his spine as if the former Dictator himself was frightening enough. “Got to wonder what it’s like having a bunch of girls in one.” After trying to picture it, he elaborated further about the tri-headed behemoth. “Draven was never- nice. The only people he ever liked was this one friend of Gleeon’s who was close to Mel. She was the only thing keeping those two from killing each other.”
His head turned towards a certain little drone after hearing something awfully garbled, Tempest didn’t even bother asking about it once a guess was made. Immediately after this, he leaned on his right side to notice Lenn heading straight out the door. It initially made him reach up to scratch his own azure hair out of slight confusion, uncertain if it were his own doing, or if something had displeased that man. Luckily Spencer had disproven any assumptions of his, and it made him ease his expression.
“I thought it was because he doesn’t like me, but sure.” In hopes of somewhat pulling himself away from all those memories, the Sea Drake agreed with an upward nod. By planting both feet on that hardwood floor again, he shifted his weight to haul himself back upright, but not before arching his back for a much-needed stretch. It didn’t take long for him to head straight for the door again as the Phantom child leaped down to follow Spencer should he do the same. On their way up those stairs towards the outside, a brief side note was mentioned without looking behind him. “If you’re not comfortable with a dusty bed, I know where to find fresh sheets and blankets, there’s a huge laundry room further down.”
Alas, they would both arrive on deck. By this point in time, the sun’s golden, gleaming rays managed to peek through the buildup of clouds far out in the distance. The horizon was still illuminated in orange, with hints of purple between it and the rest of the heavens above. Most clouds lingered much further away, being of the same distance as the ones almost blocking out the sun.
Tempest stepped over first, finding two layback chairs close together and parking his rear on one. Rather than lay down like it was meant to as an option, he sat upright hunched forward, crossing both legs Indian style. The other seat remained available of course, despite having one moist, weathered pillow that could easily be removed and placed on the floorboards, no surprise it started rotting since it had not been washed for years. Luckily the young drake already grabbed and dropped it aside with an index finger and pinky on either side, saving said rider the hassle of touching it so he could sit as well.
With his numb gaze fixated on the sunset just beyond the railing, he attempted to strike up another conversation. “I spent a lot of time trying to find the others, hoping things might go back to normal someday. But- at least I made one friend. Like Uncle Mel once said, it’s best to appreciate all the little things in life. Meeting you and having someone around means a lot to me.”
While hinting at what he had been going through prior to their initial encounter back on a certain coast, the infant-like figure in its cloak had reached over and pulled itself up onto Spencer’s chair, should he have chosen to sit before claiming a spot by his left leg. Having noticed it, Tempest made a comment about the ship’s manifestation. “Guess the Invictus held up better than I did when everybody scattered. It doesn’t like being alone either.”
“Wanna know something even more depressing? Had I met you a year or two soon, Gleeon would have invited you into the family… And that never happened, you, Irrlith, and Lenn would’ve liked him. Had the thing that attacked us never showed up, Nightwing could’ve been our new home, so many things would be different.” It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to speak those words thanks to a lump building up in his throat from thinking about such. His depressing gaze shifted elsewhere from the images toward the doorway, only to grab another photograph.
Said picture would have its corner placed into Spencer’s hands, much like the first. This time, however, it contained an entirely different being they had not seen before, which was a titanic, four-legged reptilian figure towering over what was presumably a beach in the background, and the Invictus itself not too far behind. The creature in question was multi-headed, having at least three, covered in steel gray scales with each pair of serpentine eyes having light cobalt irises. Clinging to the side of its middle neck was what resembled a pale young woman, who bore short silvery hair spread out at the bottom, golden hues with a normal sclera, and a well-sculpted figure.
“This,” Spencer’s aquatic affiliate paused abruptly, being quick to continue. “Is Draven, the dictator himself who founded and ruled the Dominion. Long story short, Gleeon along with the rest of us were a desperate situation long ago. With no other choice, he freed the dark lord and recruited him to counter those against us. Over time he just sort of became apart of the fold despite my Uncle and Xeryssa wanting to go at it with him twenty-four-seven. The woman in the pic is Novem, she used to be his second in command during the war and was an ancient siren.”
While that was a lot of information to stomach at once, Tempest stepped away, walked a couple of feet towards the farthest wall, and plopped his rear on the owner’s unmade bed, where the springs inside the mattress were heard squeaking slightly. He finally glanced back up at the trio after being given a few seconds to regain his composure. “We could spend the night here since the place isn’t a wreck. There’s a vegetable garden on board if anybody gets hungry.”
Meanwhile, the Phantom child had tilted its head at the image of Gleeon and the group as it held onto the Rider. Soon reaching with its wooden skeletal hands, it clasped the portrait and wrapped its little arms around it with the picture pressed against its chest. After that, it curled up back in Spencer’s arms again and handed it back.
It didn’t take too long for the Oceanic drake to mention some speculation of his. “If the family existed a lot sooner, we might’ve all landed in Nightwing and met everyone before it fell apart.”
Perhaps, this would be one of those times where the young woman was relieved about the things that she had on her arsenal, for the years of trials and errors stuffed into her sleeves that paid great prices to be executed. Where to run, how to run. But this was just the first night. They are just lucky that there was an immediate place available, and in that escape, he also has a hand in that. "You're the one who has been observing and dealing with them all this time, the things that you told me are confidential," she replied. "I'd understand that people wouldn’t want to trust quickly, but if not for you saying what's necessary, I'll be making guesses, too."
That response prompted quite the reaction. Oria seemed quite disgusted and horrified at the idea of consuming something like it by now, half wondering why she even proposed the thought. Meanwhile, Cassella's face briefly reflected the gratitude-- it was most likely a fact, good (or bad) enough to dissuade an impulsive creature who initially thought she can freely devour anything troublesome. "I'm sorry about this friend of yours," she quietly said. "I can try asking around with some people that I know, that name doesn't ring a bell with me either."
Which was quite new, for someone who kept in touch with many other sorcerers, for the sake of friendship or not. There were many gaunt-faced people that came along in her line of craft, but none with the same name, description, or even that sense of foreboding. She allowed the thought to sink in. As much as she hated surrendering things to uncertainty, he was right. They are still bound to discover more things about this adversary of theirs.
His smooth response to Colby’s queries was greeted with agreements. That, they knew well, and he can put into better words than anyone in that room at that moment. With all eyes upon him, they listened.
Now, there were only a few things that can completely surprise Cassella so much nowadays. Most are minor things to count. Maybe because all these years she learned to listen thoroughly through intuition, and every one was different, tossed her way for a reason. Maybe because Spencer had always been the type of man who had so much going on beneath the surface that cannot be easily put into words. Him being half-human was one that she solemnly nodded to. Meanwhile, a brief look of relief seemed to cross Oria's face. Whatever she was wrestling within that blonde head of hers seemed to be answered, albeit mildly. The next one was something that she didn't truly anticipate, however. Maybe she should have, yet with all the odds, didn't. Her mouth hung open, eyebrows knitting, whatever hint of color draining from her face. Whatever she was about to say was halted, however, thanks to the young man having his dinner with them.
The reveal of Spencer's ancestry made the ginger suddenly drop some silverware he was about to use for any leftovers Oria had. Colby immediately rubbed his chocolate brown eyes for clarification, momentarily gazing back in disbelief and shock for a good moment or two. "What. The. Fuck." Was his first response before speaking again. "Every year of my life I see even weirder shit since meeting the family man, including blondie right here."
“Shut up, King Kong, you’re a weirdo yourself. He ain't that weird! What are you gonna do--”
Upon making his crack at Oria, Colby got up from his seat and stepped over towards their refrigerator, then back to Spencer. "Since you just gave away a secret, maybe it's time you see mine." With his back facing all three people in the room, both hands slid around to grip the borders of their fridge. Sure enough, those thin, frail arms of his managed to raise the whole thing off their floor with minimal effort, several bottles and other loose objects could be heard rattling around inside from him tilting it during the initial lift. Toast perked up slightly, noticing a small dusty rabbit toy beneath the fridge. Bolting over to investigate, the cat seemed happy to saunter away to the stairs with the retrieved stuffed animal.
Given the size and mass of that object, it should've required at least two people to move, but that young man managed to scoop it up into his arms with no difficulty. No ordinary human could be capable of such a feat, even most bodybuilders lacked that level of brute strength. If he could haul a filled refrigerator up so easily, one could only visualize the nightmare scenario of him getting angry over his gaming sessions, much like what they overheard earlier. Surprisingly, the female living with him didn’t perceive this as a threat in the slightest.
All still seemed to be well after the object was placed back in its original position. Colby soon reclaimed his seat by the other male. "Unlike some people here, I didn't really have a shitty life experience. I've had this… condition where the muscles in my body just go into overdrive at will. Normally it'll fuck up a regular person's bones, but not me. My first bitch fit started it all when I tried tossing a dumpster at some douchey kid. Each fit shattered my skeletal structure, and over the years my body just started adjusting. So yeah, almost nobody fucked with me in school as anyone can imagine.” At the cost of potential childhood friendships, that is.
Cassella only chuckled at this, shaking her head. “Oh, Colby, you show off.” Other than this, she didn’t seem to be bothered by this display of strength, only happy that a stranger such as Spencer can actually bring the guy out of his shell. “But yeah, thanks to that, doing things around this house was easier. He used to be the go-to guy when we have to move things. There are those who took great interest to that ability of his, however, that’s why he’s so wary over everyone else.” They have all seen better days. She saw this young man at his worst. At the end of the day, it was easy to earn his trust if someone was vouched for by a friend. “A dragon rider, though?” Now back to the subject that actually caught her off guard, she seemed a bit calmer now, a little more composed. That brief intermission certainly did wonders. "There were some very old legends... " Words tumbled out in a low whisper. Pale hands moved as if those can even articulate what she initially intended to say. Of course, it didn't. "I never thought I'd still get to see one in the flesh. That was quite a long while ago, Spencer."
"You made it sound like they were fossils or something," Oria murmured, her head tilted on an odd angle. "But part elvish, eh? No wonder you smell a little... different." If anything she still seemed a little perplexed, piecing up this puzzle of a man. "I've heard a small bit about riders, from my elders. Immortals, if I remember right. Magic stuff. Would have been cool if the dominion war had loads of those too~"
Wherever it landed, the revelation certainly struck a chord. Cassella was weighing her words, eyes upon her nearly-finished food. "It's a lovely union, that thing. Imagine sharing everything that you ever had with someone that you trust with your entire life, simply accepted as what you are." The utensil on her hand prodded the pastry, as opposed to her enthusiasm to eat earlier. "Being chosen as one was an honor, I've been told." After a moment of wistful thought, she seemed to sober up. A rider without his dragon. There had been instances where it was inevitable, yet to him, this didn't seem to be the case. Bonds like this surpass most common commitments, and there he was, searching for a part of a dwindling race like the rest of them. No wonder he seemed so shocked at the idea of them also searching for the same beings that they lost.
If there was anything that she somewhat disliked in asking questions, it was always the risk of prying old wounds open. How can one lose sight of something so grand? Was it a storm that took it all away as well? Cassella hesitated, and eventually gave in. "But Spencer... what happened?"
“There- was once a family on this ship, a family of different beings that came to know and respect each other. The events that made it happen were... complicated. I used to be a part of it, my Uncle Mel did too. Take a bunch of monsters with a couple of humans thrown into the mix, and that’s what it was, somehow it worked, all thanks to one man I hope is still alive.”
It was beyond difficult for him to summarize and speak of what used to live on board prior, and while doing so, an increasing lump could be felt in his own throat from memories resurfacing. The existence of a group living there some time ago would easily explain on Tempest knew the interior so well, and was seen as an ally by the Invictus. That heavy heart of his didn’t deter him from elaborating further on his history with those beings while his back was facing everyone, overlooking the pool.
“It started small, with just me, a guy who's basically Hulk Junior, and the Founder himself. There was a girl I met years ago, her name was Clarion, she was a siren. Because we got together, I replaced her blood with mine, I turned her into a sea serpent when she was supposed to be a drake like me instead. But hey, I couldn’t complain since we were the same size at that point.” The young Dovah paused, this time sitting on a railing with his gaze lowered towards the floor upon turning around.
“One day she went missing, and I got worried. In my panic, I swam into a sea cave where I met a brood of sirens. And yeah, these are the kind that literally eats people and charm you with their songs. After doing so with me, I made a deal with their eldest to go rescue Clarion after being told humans caught her. So we went out, found the place, and blew it to bits before a certain Founder showed up to help us. When we got back, they took an instant liking to the guy and followed us back to the Invictus. From there, he sorta let them stay, gave ‘em food, clothes, and showed them a lot of things, so they just became part of the family over time.”
Above them, the sun’s gleaming rays eventually beamed through the skylight’s glass when an opening formed in the dense rain clouds outside, very slowly gazing up as his story progressed further. “Sometime later, the eldest siren chick became the Founder’s girlfriend. Because of a submarine attack, she wanted to become a water drake to help defend against any future incidents, and I changed her too, only this time she actually became one of my own instead of a serpent-like Clarion. She was like a big sister to me, and her name was Exoria.”
Once he was finished with the brief backstory behind a certain Oceanic Dragoness, Tempest stood up straight to begin walking towards the back of the stadium pool room, as if expecting Spencer and Lenn to follow him. Should they do so, they’d be led up to another Grand Staircase, only this one was smaller and more like a vertical shaft with its structuring. Soon they would arrive at a doorway that appeared to have been left open, which of course led to another space inside.
Upon pushing it open even further so the others could enter behind him. What laid on the other side was an additional bedroom, only this one was larger than the previous. On their right was a large rectangular window overlooking the stadium pool from an aerial view above, and straight across would be another similar in shape that overviewed the ocean and its distant horizon. The walls were painted in deep blue with a white border lining its bottom, and beneath their feet would be a polished hardwood floor of caramel color.
A single bed large enough to accommodate three people rested against the right-hand corner up against the back wall, its covers having been a slight mess from its previous occupant not having made it before leaving. Two black dressers lined the left wall side by side, having a few drawers still open with clothing of both genders being visible. A large couch laid near the center in front of the stadium window, with a bigger flat screen television right across from it. On their left towards the corner near the doorway was a laundry basket, which had some men’s T-shirts and pants in it, plus a woman’s bra hanging halfway off to the side, as if two beings had shared this space before. Near it was a stack of different sized cardboard boxes.
On some onyx painted table next to the dressers would be a series of stacked papers, some books, potion bottles, pencils, an iPad, a phone charger, a Coca Cola can somebody forgot to throw away prior, and a model steam locomotive placed on a tiny piece of track, indicating that a certain resident must’ve had a hobby outside of magic.
Hung up on that same wall was a metal rack painted the same color, but left wide open. Inside was an assortment of different modern firearms: A semi-auto 12 gauge shotgun, an M16 assault rifle, a dual pair of Judge pistols, and even a legit Railgun, which of course was hyper illegal to own in any nation unsurprisingly. Boxes of ammunition for each weapon could be found as well, some having looked as if they were plucked open in a hurry for some reason. On those same lockers would be a lock which already had its key inside, likely to keep unintended users from accessing it. In those same racks were holders for possible melee weapons, but lacked any of such, almost like they had been removed earlier.
Hung up on each wall was a number of both paintings, and real-life portraits of varying things, one of them being a black and white photograph of the Invictus still under construction in some steampunk looking shipyard. One image showed Tempest in his true form, but beside him with their cheeks pressed together… was an aquatic, pearlescent serpent with blue irises staring back at the camera with him giving a toothy grin. On a different one, it showed him in his human facade with what appeared to be a young woman with brunette hair and those same set of hues from the previous image, likely his mate in disguise. The others were of different females who held a human-like appearance, each having gold irises only, some even posing with Tempest.
“And this gentlemen, is where the family man himself used to be, and Exoria.”
Shortly after announcing who once owned said room, the azure haired figure stepped in to take out some fresh clothes from the dresser, quickly putting on an under armor shirt and some dark jeans when tossing out the nasty attire he had on prior. Now that he was finished, the Sea Drake made his way back over to the portraits.
“Have a look Spence.”
By taking off one from the wall, said Rider would be handed one of those pictures. At its center was an onyx haired man who held porcelain skin, golden hues with a black sclera, wearing a formal suit with what appeared to be a black scaled version of Tempest’s kind who’d be seen nudging his side for pats, and the young drake himself at his opposite side. Clarion was found in it as well, along with seven other women of younger age, one having the same kind of sclera as he did in the background, wearing a black kimono.
“Gleeon was the founder, before we all got separated… This was his room. And now you know.”
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