+ 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
"Some people call it like that 'cause the weather can get temperamental and nasty. But hey, with summer approaching soon you're in luck. You're not getting four seasons in one day. If you need light, you're getting it." Colby stared at Cass who was puttering around for her stuff. Some papers and some smaller things tossed into her own bag that didn't seem to bulge inconveniently no matter how much stuff she puts in.
A pale woman of fussy sunscreens, loose long sleeves, and flared pinafores, pausing from time to time to pet the cat in the middle of brushing her hair. "Ahh, Toastie, what are we gonna do without you?" A small, squeaky chirrup was a response to that. The feline seemed to sense that their guests will be heading out soon, making an extra effort to be vocal to be noticed even just for the simplest things, brushing around legs here and there. Stuffing her purse into her bag, Cassella finally straightened up. "Text me about how it goes. I'll relay it to Abraham and the others if you guys found anything, let's hope it's Mel and nothing hostile. In the meantime, enjoy your honeymoon."
"Don't fall off the stairs again, will you?"
"Shut up!"
The couple decided to just see them out by the gate, with the fluffy cat in Colby's arms, the young man wiggling one little spotted paw to bid them goodbye. The siren tried to make those farewells brief, yet it was obvious that visitors were more than welcome to stay longer until they're off and gone. Oria can deny it all she wants, but the past couple of years have denied them the proper company that they've accustomed to. "Do take care, you two. We're gonna be a call away if y'all need something."
Outside, Cassella found that place a whole lot easier to appreciate despite the scraggly parts. Even with the repairs and the amount of weeding and trimming that the house itself needed, maybe she can simply look at it with fresh eyes after a hectic night. It was a shelter to her, a precious one. To say that a part of her wanted to stay was just saying the obvious. But staying isn't what they can do. "That went really well..." Pulling out a mildly crinkled hat from her bag, she settled this upon her head, beckoning for Spencer to come along. "You know, it's been a while since I was asked to help translate anything." What was she really feeling? Nervousness? Excitement? It's getting harder to tell, especially when she pulled out her sunglasses from one pocket.
"If you ever heard about this public museum called The Vault of Visual Harmony somewhere, I was affiliated with them...somehow." The word added seemed more like a hasty afterthought. "I'm not even sure what we'll find out about your book. But... if it's something you find unsettling, we can always pause from decoding anytime."
That is if they can even crack it in the first place. What in the world can make an immortal unsettled anyway, aside from those things chasing them around last night? She was still putting that in the table, however, that as intrigued as she was for something he's risking his life on, she will not mind.
It was almost as if she was giving options that she never had. The right to choose when everything else would rob them of such.
. . .
Ten minutes for a bus ride, and more than a three-hour ride for the train, according to how her itinerary had estimated it, rush hour and waiting times included. Not bad. They have more than enough sunshine for that day than they'll know what to do with. More than enough time to get the supplies they'd need, and time to get settled. No matter how much she cursed the sun on a normal day for the burns, she can't deny that this was helpful every once in a while.
The station didn't seem to show any signs of odd activity other than the usual bustle, and Cassella found that oddly comforting. Quick lines for tickets, benches populated by people of all ages, vending machines of snacks, beverages, and little utilities sparsely lined along where people can easily find them. Some younger students ran around to and fro, chattering amongst themselves. Rows upon rows of waiting areas are boarded by busy rails in between, local passenger trains pulling up and away in spaces of minutes. The regional lines, however, took its sweet time. There were tourists around as well, and for sure, the two will blend in just fine.
"You've been kinda quiet. Did you rest well?" What a remarkable thing to say, when she has been quiet as well for the most part through the bus ride. Surprisingly, she didn't really bug him with questions unlike the afternoon before where she was firing them away (like there was no tomorrow), this time there were deep pauses occupied by monotonous radio announcements. If she was not briefly zoning in and out of deep thought, she was absentmindedly fiddling with her phone, looking for the most convenient places to stay. There were a lot of variables to consider now, however-- how close it is to transportation and to the utilities they'd need, or if it will offer an easy exit at any given time.
Silly, silly woman, she thought, taking a deep breath. Two hasty steps ahead always have a risk of leaving something behind. She learned that the hard way before. There was also that lingering thought of the discussion earlier. He most likely heard and figured that out a while ago. And there were the little worries in between. The quiet serenity on her face didn't give any of her dilemmas, in fact, with a cheery spring to her steps, she volunteered to foot their passes. One way tickets, on the next immediate schedule.
"I think you'd appreciate the window seat more than I would." She happily flashed out two ticket stubs and handed him one. "Of all places there, I feel like you'd love the state library the most. My visits there aren't complete without stopping by even just for a little while."
“Oh god, I hope not or it’s gonna be a bunch of monsters charging at us with boners in hand.” They already had a taste of what that looked like on land prior to discovering the Invictus earlier, and he dreaded the thought of dealing with a similar problem underwater. As they both knew, their adventure was more than likely a double-edged sword for good reason, who knows what all could be waiting for them below the surface. One way or another, they needed to find out what was causing those seismic disturbances on the seafloor.
“Well, whatever you do, I’d definitely use a spell. Better safe than sorry.” He encouraged, insisting that the man goes through with his idea for both of their sakes. Tempest let out a deep exhale as silence fell upon him again, unsure of what else to add to the conversation. One index finger tapped away at his chin after moving to lay on his back across the couch, gazing up at the ceiling. “I guess we just about covered everything.”
Eventually, something made him narrow his gaze slightly upon getting an idea. He leaned forward and sat up right. “Wanna join me out in the water and go see what Irrlith is up to? Just so you can get a feel for things underwater? Or stay here until it’s time?” The sea drake offered to bring him along. Whether Spencer accepted or declined, Tempest would rise on both feet and head out the door, hoping to easily find the big lug outside.
. . .
At the press of his digits, that same door they had been going in and out of was pushed open again. Shortly after stepping away from anything that might get in the way, said azure haired male morphed in shape and expanded in size, quickly reverting back into his true appearance. Unsurprisingly, he still bumped into a few objects, including the mast.
By leaping over the railing, Tempest tilted forward and plunged under, with or without Spencer. After creating an enormous splash from entering, both front legs were used to paddle himself up until his tail could propel him forward. From there, he’d begin emitting a series of clicks to locate the brute underwater.
"If they're still around, maybe, just maybe they'll have a soft spot because of what I am. At least we got Irry if something goes wrong." It was some wishful thinking to say the least, who knows whether or not that lesser known territory still had a structured society of beasts. Perhaps they would since his kind were an absurd rarity nowadays? It was a big gamble, hopefully they could escape with their lives if such inhabitants were hostile to outsiders.
"The ship has some crazy ass tricks up its sleeve, you haven't seen the best part of what it can do yet." With all the confidence in the world, Tempest dismissed his concern on what could happen. Given how much the rider learned about it in such a short time span, it shouldn't come as a surprise that the Invictus was hiding something else under that weathered hull. For all he knew, those smoke funnels might as well be for show.
Now that Irrlith was on the move, an index finger was unfolded and pointed towards the same door they came through. Said Oceanic Drake stepped forward to accompany him inside, walking parallel with Spencer on their way in.
. . .
"An ominous name for an ominous place." He commented regarding the given description of said territory after being given some insight on it. Many questions still lingered about it, and it seemed obvious at this point that Chanook was no longer there, otherwise Spencer wouldn't have been alone when they first met.
"Are there buildings and villages there too? Like that one place you showed me with all the ruins?" Tempest asked out of curiosity, wondering if any two legged beings either had a presence or a settlement there. The young water Drake followed him inside before moving to park his rear on a cushioned chair, folding both legs up. "So… Besides that, are you gonna be okay with staying underwater for so long when we reach the nation? Especially with the added pressure?"
Birdie’s Emporium is an odds and ends shop on the corner of Otis street, a few blocks down from the hustle and bustle of the main downtown Seattle. Locals trek down the sidewalks in troves seeking the next best happy hour. All smiling and pointing to the shop windows, occasionally dipping in and out of the stores themselves. They may be locals but they enjoy the best of the tourist spots, finding amusement in the oddities stores create to make a little cash.
Most stay open until the late evening hours, not daring to brave the rush hour on the streets, subway, or buses. After all, they have traveled this far, some flown or driven, hopped on a cruise ship into the sound to get an eye at the space needle or the famous market where salmon is thrown across the market stalls to the cashier after the buyer has picked it.
While Otis street isn’t in the most popular place, it’s close enough to get a combination of both locals and tourists in any store. But unlike the rest around it, Birdie’s emporium closes promptly at 5:3o PM. Smack dab in the middle of rush hour. Anyone who’s unlucky enough to make it in the doors before closing gets a scowl from the young, fresh outta high school clerk and a whopping big smile from the shop owner, Birdie. Her chipper demeanor and ready to please attitude has you rushing about to get an eye full of what’s for sale: spend big, make her pocket a little bigger and get out.
Her shop, like any other in the area, is decorated with knick knacks and trinkets with the Skyline of Seattle plastered all over them, or a local coffee shop, or perhaps even the Hoh Rainforest on it. To top it off everything else is bird themed. The best guests though are not the ones that come through the door, but rather the ones that live along the walls in various smaller and larger cages. Birds of different sizes and colors. Birdie’s Emporium is as much a tourist attraction as it is a bird store.
As Spencer entered and the gentle chime of the bell above the door sung into the air she echoed it with a piercing yell, “WATCH OUT!”
A rainbow flash of colored feathers and piercing caw of the Macaw hectically flew for Spencer’s head. And only when the bird realized Spencer had rudely interrupted his exit did he swquake and swerve upward toward the ceiling, circled and went back through the rest of the emporium. Wings flapping about as different shop keepers tried to catch him. Caelestra caught in chasing the bird and hardly kept up. With her face upturned and arms reaching out in an attempt to snatch the bird out of the air, she didn’t spare a moment to register that she did not have the reflexes of the bird. Not to mention, her shoes were all slip and no traction.
“Fucking bird,” she muttered under her breath. She scrambled to get her footing and turn with him. Wild waves of electric blue hair flew past her face as she whipped her head around, eyes darting to follow his movements. But it was too late for the rest of her. Flailing limbs and momentum were against her as she crashed right into Spencer. “Oof!”
North, huh? This place might be close to the edge of the continent but there are still a few places where they can go. She was originally intending to head up North herself for a conference in the next couple of weeks, but she didn't see the problem changing routes. That seems to be the most sensible thing to do. And she no longer brought that up, somehow anticipating how the man might react.
She wasn't sure what she was expecting as he took something out of his bag, but from the way her mouth twitched, she was already holding back a grin. A common store wouldn't even sell that anymore, she had to wonder how long he has been holding on to it. "Hey, that will do." That twinkle on her eyes, again. The same look on her face the moment they stepped out of that coffee shop. What, that's the main purpose of a phone, after all! At least, according to someone that she knew all too well. They'll have the entire tomorrow to themselves to reconfigure things, and even an older model like that can do wonders.
Even as he gave himself time to think, Cassella could only observe. From the silence, she wondered if she will even receive an answer, and yet it came. "No, it's not silly at all. I've done that before. If I live long enough, maybe someday I'll do it again." That was quietly muttered with a shrug. The mere idea alone seemed to revitalize damp spirits in the slightest degree. "Go get some rest. Knowing Oria, she wouldn't let us leave tomorrow without having breakfast." And from her choices that night-- to her, breakfast food was always to die for. Bare feet quietly scuffled away to the door. "Good night, Spencer. If you'd need anything, just knock. Just call the siren next door if Toast is being a handful. We won't be far."
It was as if that night wasn't laden with oddities enough that of course, something will still slip through.
There were eyes. Four of them placed upon that scarred back, fluttering lids and pale orbs riddled with cataracts, distorted milky pupils aimlessly glancing about before finally pinning on his direction. It seemed out of focus at first, squinting and blinking until that slightest moment of clarity.
They didn't seem ominous at all-- curiously peering at him if anything. As her phone started ringing, those orbs finally shut. They were gone, blinking away as soon as they appeared, leaving no trace on the marred skin. Cassella was finally off for the night, her voice faintly answering a phone call as she gently closed the door behind her.
All that was left in there was a purring cat that was happily flopped on his lap, oblivious to anything, as always.
• • •
Most of the house was certainly up early-- at least, the most noticeable ones would be the two women seemed to be loudly fussing over something about Cassella's newly earned bruises and sleepwalking first thing in the morning. There was already the wafting smell of heating pastry at 6 am. Other than that, everything would seem perfectly normal and untouched, all windows sealed and locked, save for the strands upon strands of fluff on the sheets from a feline who had no proper concept of personal space the entire night. If their guest even had the slightest blink of sleep, Spencer would most likely discover the cat mewling and peering at him closely as soon as he was up, nagging to be escorted downstairs to be fed.
One thing was for certain-- the hostess of the house wasn't sending them anywhere without breakfast or packed up sandwiches vaulted in durable cardboard boxes. Sirens are pretty generous and fussy to those they care about, Cassella quietly said. Beyond their feral natures, they value acquaintance and family all too well.
Colby even offered to drop them off somewhere, only to be intercepted by Cass who reminded them to get ready for their own trip instead and call work off for a little while. Her reason? Intel had spoken about sightings of an enormous black sea dragon loitering Hobart's coasts which should leave no time to dally, or the trail will run cold. Along with this, she suggested for them to take the cat to a willing friend instead of fussing for a visiting sitter. Her words last night was already a giveaway that perhaps... just perhaps, she was lying. Or she will be just as excited as they are and would even see it for herself, or even to the extent of dragging him along. And yet the clueless couple bought it like cake without any hesitation out of excitement, planning the earliest trip that they can manage that day.
Guilty or not, Cassella was eventually ready to leave them to their devices, only asking for updates, assured that all will be alright. Well, somehow. Do this now, consequences later. As if whatever she was feeling even mattered in this one. If it was for the sake of safety she was more than happy to put her sentiments aside, keeping up that facade until it was finally time to say their goodbyes.
She won't be seeing them for a while.
"There's a bus bay right at the corner of the street, it leads to the main station. With all the running around last night like crazy you could have missed it. Thugs keep bashing the lights outta it, too." Oria had to pause from packing up a few things. "Where are you two headed off now anyway?"
"We can go close to the ranges or peninsulas. Anywhere with lots of routes to run off too will be great."
Colby perked up, grinning at Spencer. "Bleak City can be your best bet. Great coffee, good pubs, lots of bars pulling all-nighters. All the good shit." If they had to be away from the shadows, they'd need a place that shines all night. "I got friends there."
"You got dodgy friends everywhere. Like me." Colby looked proud over that. They can turn a good route east... to one of the most prominent cities in that state, where lights are the norm to the wee hours of dawn. Cass had to glance up at Spencer as she patted a band-aid on one side of her forehead with a chuckle. "Melbourne. What do you think?"
"Yeah, yeah, wherever y'all run off, just stay alive, will you?" It was Oria who handed them a small stash of things that she already packed up. "Don't want seeing your faces on the newsflash dead on the curb."
The only time anyone will see her on a newsflash is probably because of malicious damage to property, she thought. "I can try~"
Oria glanced up at Spencer. Cassella could have sworn that the woman was properly smiling. Not that standard cranky glare or whatsoever, or the woman who threatened to kick them out the night before. "You too. If you find yourself around this area and if this house still stands, visit us again."
"You mean, there could be Nightwing survivors down there?" The thought it alone sounded exciting, despite knowing better not to get his hopes up for something that may no longer be present. Since it has yet to be investigated, they possessed no means of confirming or denying whether or not other sentient beasts still inhabited those depths.
"We could take the ship with us in case we need something, and just have it sit above us at the surface.” Tempest suggested with a hand placed under his chin, wondering if it’d be too high of a risk to bring their floating city with them. “If it’s too dangerous, maybe we can keep it sorta close by? That way it has time to react if something happens.” He proposed, hoping his idea would get Spencer’s approval.
Beneath their feet, a light jolt/vibration would cause both males to stumble from unexpected movement. Well beneath the red-painted waterline, four small horizontally lined tubes with little propellers inside them began rotating at increasing speed at the bow, with another set on the opposite side of the stern activating as well. To their surprise, the Invictus was actually turning itself around counter-clockwise using its submerged thrusters, having performed a near one-eighty turn. Such a feat was only achievable with tugboats pushing on it.
With its bow now facing the open sea, all side thrusters ceased movement. All seven bronze propellers at its stern began spinning to gradually accelerate forward. Plumes of white smoke eventually rose out from the towering funnels, each leaving a partially visible trail that dissipated over time.
“You might need to point the ship in the right direction on where to go!” The sea drake said aloud towards Irrilith, mostly due to the winds picking up from the vessel moving. After this, he turned back to the former Rider, curving the corners of his lips up. “Shall we go prep? And I’d like to hear more about that Shadow Nation if you’re up for more storytelling.”
A snicker was given upon witnessing the fate of the one creature he loathed for so long and wished to cook at one point. He shook his head both ways and withheld a cackle, hoping one day they could make up a story as to why that hairy abomination disappeared. Lord forbid a certain young woman learns about what really happened to her hideous pet.
“You think it’s something else?” Of course, Tempest found it a little far fetched to believe there was a different cause for what was unleashed previously. Naturally, he felt inclined to question it. “There’s not a lot of other things that can make tsunamis as big as the one that almost got us both. Except for- underwater quakes? No.” He quickly dismissed the idea when a prior memory resurfaced in his mind. “Just before I met you, I remember hearing some kind of grumble. Whether it was something living or natural is beyond me.”
In the midst of it all, their surroundings completely changed, morphing before their very eyes. The sea drake stumbled backward upon leaning with his spine arching itself, shifting his gaze up at a forty-five-degree angle. Time to see what Irrlith had in store for them both.
What came next was nothing short of breath-taking and awe-inspiring. Every last bit of scenery, including the stone formations, the cavern, and pillar entrance was all reflected in his now jade orbs while admiring them, partially separating his lips. The absence of light never bothered him in the slightest with how often he explored the Ocean’s great depths where no illumination existed. Somehow, someway, the appearance of that location gave a strange sense of nostalgia, despite never visiting it before.
Once they were brought back into reality, Tempest landed both hands on the Rider’s shoulders to catch himself, quickly planting one foot down on where all his weight would’ve gone. At the realization he almost made him fall, he apologized. “Sorry. Just a little dizzy.”
After it was announced on what that location was, the young drake immediately perked up. "The Water Nation?! As in the place where all the aquatic members of Nightwing lived?!" He exclaimed in excitement, having forgotten about the fact that a great adversary was still lingering until the thought wiped that grin off his face. "One area I wish we could explore without trouble… Maybe we could scope out the place and sneak in? I can use echolocation to see in the dark, same method for hunting. I'm able to hear things from miles away." He proposed when tilting his head at an angle towards Spencer.
Now turning his gaze back to Irrlith, the wingless male questioned him about tagging along. "How do you feel about going back there with us?"
Oddly enough, nothing was to be found in his pockets other than whatever contents he might've normally carried with him.
“Ugh, remind me to wash our hands.” As much as he despised the smell of stretch in his palms, the younger male coiled the digits on his right hand around its other upper limb and gave it a tug. Now that they were both pulling on it, the duo would begin dragging that dreadful mammal all the way outside in hopes of disposing it quickly. “Still wish we could cook ‘em tho.” He commented, remembering back to when some of the sirens proposed the idea of doing so.
Time to head outside.
. . .
Shortly after exiting, Tempest chose to stand there and wait with both arms crossed upon releasing its arm, which hit the boards with a minor thud. Nothing seemed to show at first, and if their friend was on deck, he would’ve stood out like a sore thumb, and the floor would’ve been tilting in one direction from his massive weight resting on it. How long would they need to be out there? And did that brute ever intend on returning? Surely not with a certain problem still lingering in Nightwing’s waters.
When that gargantuan reptile rose up beside them, the sea drake’s orbs expanded widely, narrowing his lips. Feeling rather intimidated by it, he took a few short steps just to reach Spencer to avoid showing it, as terrible as he was with hiding his reaction. “Uh- Brought you some breakfast! He may or may not be chewy, enjoy!” The lesser beast said aloud to their hulking ally, who had, of course, obstructed the sun’s orange rays since it was beginning to ascend from the horizon.
Whether or not the unearthly titan would devour that horrid creature, a sudden thought snapped him out of his unfocused gaze. The joint of his right index finger was used to tap and nudge Spencer in the shoulder before addressing them both. “Since we’re all out here, our boat included. I think we ought to talk about strategies for our leviathan problem.” He stated, just as the ship’s marionette stumbled over to join Spencer at his side.
“Since you’re a former warrior yourself, we could really use your input. I’m sure you had your fair share of battles before getting stuck here, so~” Upon speaking to Irrlith, he tilted his head down with a hand holding his own chin. “If my hunch is right, its weak spot will be the gills. If you shred those to ribbons, that thing should suffocate. Depending on where they are, someone is gonna have to risk it and get close to its head. If the Invictus just had a captain again, we’d be able to use it against this thing.”
As the conversation began, there would be a slight tug on the inside of Spencer’s right pocket, almost like something was dropped in. An item perhaps?
Present Day.
A random park in the City.
There sits a burner phone on an empty park bench.
For a long time it does nothing. Just when it peaks someone's interest it buzzes.
Violently and without warning. Over and over again.
Then it goes silent. Waiting for the inevitable: to be lost forever or to finally be found.
{{OOC:Because why the heck not do something random and out of the blue.}}
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