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+ S P E N C E R +

 

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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 .

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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.

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“ 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. 

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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.

 

 

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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.
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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.nfdjSTz.png?profile=RESIZE_400x

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.

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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.

 

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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.  

 

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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]

 

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  And so, I learned to walk tall... 

but I walked taller among them than I ever was alone. 


Travelers.   Friends.   Mentors.    Comrades. 
 

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 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. 

  

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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. 

  

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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]. 

  

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 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].  

  

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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. 

  

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 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. 

 

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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

  

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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. 

 

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 Until we meet again.  

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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. 

 

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 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. 

 

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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.   

 

 

 

 
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[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..?

 


 
" I'm trying to die happy someday
Heaven, let me come stay?
What would it cost
How would I pay?
Please just, save me a place
Tired and I'm awake. 
"
 

I am open to new roleplay threads

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  • It was a dreary November afternoon, a thick layer of clouds hung over the city, the tops of  skyscrapers dissolved within it, as frigid wind blew through the streets and rain threatened to fall. Perfect weather for a walk. The albino teenager's skin and eyes had trouble under sunlight, which resulted in wearing a hoodie, sunglasses, and a black umbrella. However, on days like these, he settled for a light raincoat. Years ago, the boy was conscious of people staring at him, but he came to realize there are more outlandish looking people than him. Nemo would take Tundra to a nearby park, and was on his way back when a guest entered his apartment.

    The apartment was dark when the man had entered, and it was roughly the same since his last visit. The empty dog bed was enough insight as to where the boy possibly was. It was roughly ten minutes later that the thudding footsteps of a canine were heard, followed by his. No key was needed, and he didn't neeed to be by the door, yet for any spectators he would have to at least stand in front of his door with a hand over the lock, but the lights flicked on inside the apartment before he came to the door. When the door opened, Nemo jumped slightly at the presence of the ghost, but eased quickly once he recognized him. "Spencer!" Tundra was at first hesitant, having not seen the man in three years, and with no discernable smell, but after she had Tundra gave a more eager greeting. 

    Nemo wasn't quite sure how to approach him, having spent a full day with the man when Nemo was more nervous about the world. Besides the fact the boy could now hold full eye contact, he had grown slightly taller, his hair wasn't as long as Spencer's but just as unkempt, and he didn't wear any muted color clothing as he used to. Was a handshake or a hug even necessary, he thought to himself.

    "Please sit." Nemo would say if he hadn't already, as he took off his shoes and raincoat. He wore a grey tank top and red plaid joggers, Tundra did so besides Spencer. "How've you been? Can I get you anything? Tea? Water?" Could Spencer consume it? He couldn't remember if he had last time, Nemo thought as he sat in a chair opposite to Spencer.

  • From both of their perspectives, nearly the entire ocean itself passed by from how massive that predator was. After barely getting out of its way, his head darted over towards the direction it went, watching every move he could until the titanic beast coiled its own figure. At that moment, Tempest was expecting another imminent attack.

    For both a show of force and to deter another attempt on them, his jaws widely spread apart. What followed was a loud, deeper roar, though not as quaking as the serpentine leviathan. It was still enough to echo out for miles since the waters would carry the soundwaves. Given his lack of size compared to that monster, it'd be hard to intimidate it.

    Remembering they needed to stay close, the sea drake accelerated forward to make a beeline for Irrlith. Once they were in proximity, he'd float just a few feet apart from the side of his rib cage, in case they'd have to swim under him in an emergency. From there, his tail swayed to propel him at a slower speed, just to match the brute’s pace.

    . . .

    By this point in time, the wingless reptile wasn't so tensed up and on edge anymore but remained vigilant in listening for any sounds the Ocean might carry. The scenery was more than enough to catch his eye, each object was something that had to have been carved by smaller beings. Nearly every stone column they stumbled across was approached and closely inspected by Tempest for anything he could find, hopefully, another clue.

    All movement ceased when the vision was presented, letting himself drift a few feet forward as it played out. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until that emblem was seen. Both emerald orbs widened slightly at the handiwork their unearthly friend had just found. 

    'We could try a long-range call and see if anybody still lives here. Bad idea?' The young drake proposed when looking to Irrlith, hoping for some sort of input on whether or not it was ill-advised for their safety. He halted and waited for him to complete his transformation, listening for whatever reply the brute might have. 

    It seemed like a wild gamble to speculate on the possibility of any sentient residents still being alive in the Water Nation. In Tempest’s mind, he imagined there being merfolk within the territory, as far fetched as it was. At the same time, the sea drake's wishful thinking was more prevalent on the presence of other aquatic dragons.

  •  
    She seemed surprised by his words. Under the shafts of sunshine filtering through the window, the silver in her eyes just seemed to gleam, her curiosity apparent. "Her sisters always thought talking wasn't her best suit. If she's here to hear that she'll be thrilled." While she wondered how that conversation even went, if there were any answers taken, perhaps it would be another discussion of its own. "Usually they can't go too far from the ocean, they will shrivel and die." Cassella paused for a moment, eyes momentarily fixed on the floor. "After things about wishes and souls got involved, I had a reason to believe that her sisters might have drifted around inland without having to eat anyone just to stay. Other than that, I'm glad you got to enjoy their company. I think Toast was a very happy puffball, too."
     
    The mere thought of the cat was enough to make her grin, gaze dropping upon her lap where her bag resided. When it seemed like she would remain silent for the other question that rose up, she didn't. 
     
    Family trade. A soft hum escaped her as her brows furrowed, looking aside. She showed no hint of discomfiture this time, however, only the sign of debating where to properly and concisely begin. There's just so much to unpack in those two words. "That's... a good way to put it. They offer services, everyone is expected to practice or contribute something." And you get discarded aside if you don't. "Nearly every day is about survival if everyone around you thinks it's the best way to keep you sharp. The birthdays are typically safe. Weddings and reunions, not so much."  A crack of a smile was like the slightest burst of radiance on that frown, limned by the passing shadow of the tunnel they eventually headed into. 
     
    As if that and her nonchalance can offer any reassurance at all. Cassella simply leaned a bit closer to catch his words, welcoming the change of discussion as her hands strayed up to her hair to push it back. 
     
    With the train now speeding on its rails, the scenery started to shift. From the first brief underpass that it emerged from, trees and greenery became more apparent, fields and houses at the far distance now dominated most of the view. There were still the buildings they left behind, only a whole lot more spaced out. That season certainly brought green grass, late spring blooms, and dandelions peppering whatever that could be sighted up close. "We really can't have it all, can we?" A considerable distance away from a place where they once had to flee around for safety, she seemed more at ease. No destroyed power lines or cars and threats of possible witnesses to haunt them here. Cassella pursed her lips at this, tilting her head. "I don't think there has to be a formal or rigid way to practice something so...dynamic. Master or not, you're still here, doing your own thing and kicking ass. If anything, I think your mentor would be very proud of you." Faith has a thing of doing that, and any well-seasoned teacher has so much of that to give. Her thoughts drifted back to this woman he spoke of, to the guilds he stayed in. The look on his face as he briefly reminisced it all. That's the charm of listening to what someone has to say, even for the briefest moment one can glimpse on what that time has left behind through their eyes. How much of her years were spent in the continent itself-- but then, she figured that the place was huge and their paths haven't really crossed, until now. She chuckled. "You even found your way to Nightwing and survived whatever chaos you found yourself in. It's not a bad thing to take some credit, you know." 
     
    The words that followed quieted her somehow. She glanced around. Everyone else seemed preoccupied, eyes glued upon books, sheets of newspapers, or dimly lit screens. A good number of ears were plugged to the music only they could hear, and the rest were just low distant chatter. Cassella took a slow, deep breath. "I have..." 
     
    She awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. That sounded a whole lot more fragmented and distant than she intended. "I have to. Though I merely see myself as a passerby. Having my own share of time and sharing mine." That look that he gave her was returned with the same depth. She was partly questioning where this is coming from, and yet she didn't really shut this out, more curious about what Spencer would make out of it. He has answered a lot of the things she asked in that little cafe, not mentioning that he has been very patient the entire time. When Cass might have brushed that away smoothly like she always does, this time, perhaps that train carriage isn't a bad place to give some insight. "Sometimes there are things handed over when death could have been a flawless conclusion. Unfinished business or punishment, it's left for us to figure out. We just try to keep moving forward."
     
    The keyword was try. There were still some things in the past that one will fall back into. Curiosities that are always hard to hide and would spill either way, sooner or later. Last night she heard about Nightwing-- a brief sliver of an anecdote from what it truly is. By now she was wondering about the rest. If there were still those who paid visits. If it once allowed its inhabitants to flourish on their own, or if it was also constrained by any form of monarchial governance just like that one place she once knew.  A mere glimpse was what she will get nowadays. But when did that stop her anyway? "I assume it was Skya who gave you the book?" she gently asked. "What was she like? What was your partner like?"
     
  •  

    Now all that's left is to write a thousand words. 

     

  • ‘Please be someone good…’

    Upon receiving some rather unpleasant news, he came to a halt, now floating there dead in the water. Both webbed ears instantly perked up, hoping to hear something just so they’d have more time to react or see something first. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

    Almost like a deer in headlights, the smaller beast froze in place when a soft glow could be seen. With how dark-adapted his eyes were by this point, it’d be hard to miss. A submarine perhaps? That was his first thought, the other was some kind of angler fish since bioluminescence was a common characteristic among deep-sea animals, nothing that could pose a threat really.

    What made his heart skip a beat and all his blood suddenly run cold was the unsettling snarl from their much larger ally. This prompted him to glance around in nearly every direction, already anticipating another being of sorts thanks to Irrlith’s initial warning. Lord knows what this thing could be. If it had him riled up, it wasn’t anything pleasant.

    As a means of determining the size of whatever this may be, Tempest gave off a number of louder clicks again. Only two seconds after the soundwaves bounced off the culprits exterior, he jolted, already paddling up. It’s huge! He reverberated back to the Brute, confirming that whatever this had to be enormous.

    When that figure finally made a beeline for him, the sea drake bolted away towards his right side to avoid ending up in that creature’s jaws. He shifted left before making a rapid turn, snapping his finned tail against the attacker’s exterior like a whip. Knowing full well that this thing would retaliate, the azure reptile sped over towards Irrlith once it passed them. While doing so, he’d turn his gaze towards his left side in case it were to return for another strike, which was likely to happen at this point.

    Perhaps it was going to take two to subdue and question that monster later.

  • You really are something else. Was all he commented back upon hearing those vague answers, having clicked right back to him. After being left to decipher the meaning behind a certain word that caught his attention briefly, Tempest lightly propelled himself with his own tail to swim around the brute’s hulking exterior with how slow he was moving, deciding to explore around his back. Those massive tendrils of his were approached before he’d lean his snout in close to inhale through both nostrils, attempting to get his scent.

    How long had it been since he had dived under with someone? Weeks, months, a year? Too long from his perspective. Yet, the beast could still remember the last occasion where another joined him, and that was Exoria, Gleeon’s would-be wife. Hearing something other than his own sound waves bounce off of rocks felt great for a change, even if the same man riding on his back couldn’t speak underwater. For once, he’d be going on an adventure with others again.

    . . .

    For much of the duration, the young drake often circled around or kept close to Irrlith, only venturing away for short periods of time. Whenever he got slightly bored, it was either a shark or eagle ray he’d bring back to chew on, despite his stomach not being empty. Unfortunately for Spencer, the man would’ve seen some chunks of flesh floating past him, even a severed fin at one point. How he managed to catch rays without being struck by their barbs was anyone’s guess.

    When the titanic beast came to a halt, so did Tempest, who exhaled a stream of air bubbles from both nostrils to let himself sink and rest on the bottom. Right as he was about to question him, another vision struck them both, thankfully not so strong like before. All movement ceased at that very moment, just about frozen despite sinking on his own. Unlike last time, he didn’t react so much, already knowing this was another vision from their behemoth of a friend.

    Once out of his trance, Tempest shook his head and pushed himself off the sand with both feet, quickly propelling himself up and over the ledge leading into the trench. While Irrlith proceeded down, he simply swam downward, almost at a ninety-degree angle, already exhaling the last of his air supply just to increase his own weight intentionally for an easier trek. A stream of bubbles would be left in a trail as he descended alongside the brute, all of which floated towards the surface.

    As the sunlight above began dimming, the young drake noticed his extra set of hues opening and clicked again. 

    Something bothering you?

  • She’s a small delicate creature, built with little sinewy muscle and mostly ridges in her bony stature. The collision reverberates through her body and a small huff of air bursts from her lips releasing only a fraction of the pent up frustration from chasing the bird.. The impact echoes down to her feet, into the ground, and in response the lights flicker once above their heads. To her there’s nothing unusual about it. The lights flickering at odd times was normal...

    As she collides with Spencer, she’s acutely aware of the way her body collides with his. She’s not necessarily strong but the bonyness of her elbows and shoulders packs its own punch. Especially when she’s wired with energy and ready to fight the pesky avian. Her shoulders curl inward as if to soften the blow, but she’s already made one fuck up today why not another. 

    “Damn it,” she cursed again under her breath. Wild blue hair in her face as she staggered to get her own grip on the world. And it’s with his help, the way his hands clutched her to keep them both stable. “I’m sorry,” she said, shifting on her feet so that they were under her as well. Delicate digits fight with her wild hair as she tames it from her face. “He’s a temperamental escape artist.” Caelestra peeled herself away from him enough to tame her hair and straighten her shirt. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder to see if anyone was having success. 

    Behind her, the shop owner began muttering about and yelling at the other shop clerk. The two of them chased the Macaw around until the stout little woman stopped in her tracks. She pointed a numby finger at the bird and waved it menacingly. A slew of threatening curses were aimed at the bird in Portuguese until finally she reached behind the counter, grabbed the broom and began chasing at the macaw again with it raised above her head. Caelestra’s eyes widened. “And apparently on Birdie’s bad side.” 

    Shaking her head, she finally faced Spencer head on. Bright turquoise eyes lined with gold in the center peered at him through thick lashes. While her untamable wavy blue strands danced around her head like a wildfire, her eyes had in them the intensity of a star. From afar they had a subtle beauty, a captivation and mystery. Up close, they threatened to burn away all the layers people hid behind until they looked right through to the soul. “Thank you. For catching me.”

  • A visible twitch was there, that can't be denied. "They should be okay~" Frail shoulders easily shrugged that. "Okay enough to yell at me if things got too suspicious." The lie was sold, the deed was done, and she'd be more worried if they stayed behind. There was no guarantee that they will be the ones left to deal with the aftermath of their stay, but Cass doesn't want to find out. It's not like this was the first time she had ever done something like this when some of them led to even worse outcomes. Why feel like shit now? 
     
    For someone who has been tinkering around with the book for a while now, he's still not giving himself enough credit, it seemed when most would simply give up and leave it be. Maybe "novice" would be too humble of a term. While both eyebrows twitched up at his answer regarding the museum, she seemed more amused than surprised. Generations before her made a lot of effort and took a lot of pride to be known far and wide, and it was always a refreshing thing whenever it was proven wrong. "That's gonna be a blow to my mother's ego if she heard that, but yes, I was," she nodded, chuckling. "I still get a few jobs from them sometimes. Mostly research and investigative, unless I'm really needed. You know, all the boring work stuff." The tone of her voice gradually dwindled down to subtle indifference, straying away from the mirth that she once held. Just like what she needed, however, the moment's respite came as a flicker at his flippant remark, that expression on her face giving away into a smug grin. "In the meantime, we try not to die. Or get arrested. Or both. Seems simple enough." 
     
    . . .
     
     
    From that reaction alone, Spencer did seem like he was feeling a whole lot better than the time she first met him. No longer having that lingering exhausted look in his eyes, at least, for the moment, he even seemed hopeful. Maybe the night will bring the same results. "Huh, that's good. It took me a while to fall asleep in all that excitement last night, they really thought I was already off the state." One moment she was dozing off as a blanket bundle and the next thing she knew the siren was frantically shaking her up on the bottom of the stairs, but to save a bruised face, Cass didn't dare to bring that up. The excitement for a trip, however, was enough to chase whatever lingering drowsiness away. It was obvious from how she craned her neck as she looked at each passing train, barely reaching the height of the man beside her even in her tiptoes, the brims of her hat bobbing along. With that expressive face came a giveaway that it was their train that was just pulling up at the distance. "Will bribing you with planetarium passes work? It'll break my heart to haul someone out if they're so invested."
     
     
     
    Cassella was obviously trying to dodge most of the sunshine at this point if she can, and the mild chill of the train's interior was more than welcome the moment she stepped into those doors. She trailed close to the man, quick to move out of the way for the remaining few people behind her. There was no fuss in finding their respective spots, and Cass spent a moment peering at the aisle, watching the others walk past, with people stuffing their luggage in compartments. Since both of them didn't seem to have much in their possession, she simply nodded at a middle-aged couple behind them who gratefully occupied their compartment space with a few bulky bags in. "You know, I believe those two already took a liking to you. Especially Oria... the last half-elf she met they both nearly demolished a dining hall in my house." With that, she sank down on her seat, plopping her bag on her lap where it will reside on the entire ride. Sunglasses were finally taken off and tucked away. "Pretty impressive, I'd say." She wondered if Spencer already met sirens like her, or at least of that kind, given that there were several enclaves out there, either apathetic to human affairs or charming the next person for a bite. The young woman figured that she can probably ask that somewhere if he was even willing to speak of his travels before all this happened. 
     
    The next moment was spent with her quietly rifling through her bag for her a few essentials until his question surfaced that she had to pause to think, eyebrows furrowing deeply. Cassella glanced down on her hands as if trying to count. What's left of the cut from last night was just a small patch of gauze taped over. It didn't seem to bother her at any degree now. Her voice dipped quietly as a grin found its way to her face. "Man... that's quite a long time ago. It's a combination of both, I guess. Both inherent and learned over time. Some of them, not meant to be mine. The others, I've long forgotten." Far-reaching words for a fair face that looked quite young. She wasn't exactly lying if she said a long time... Cass just had no exact way of measuring things that have slipped by. Tucking back a wisp of hair from her face, she leaned back on her seat. "Coming from an elite house of mages kinda helps, too. There's a training like no other than daily heaps of disaster." The woman allowed that to trail off, briefly glancing at the window. A few usual announcements and reminders came through the intercom, which only an attentive few obviously paid attention to. For a very brief moment, she was one of those, only to be distracted with something else-- a hasty query of her own.
     
    Cass stared at him instead, leaning her cheek against a propped arm on the armrest. "You did some really great stuff back there. Got a feeling that it's not the only cool thing I'd see." While she didn't fully elaborate, it was obvious now on what she was referring to-- that stunt that was pulled back in the alleyway. How can she forget that? But then again, light work naturally awed her, direct influence or not. It just came instinctively. "Does practicing magic come to you naturally as well? Like, even before the battles you got involved in?"
     
    That was one thing that she didn't think of asking before, really, even up to now it was a question so casually brought up. As far as she knew, those dragon riders came from all walks of life, and at the peak of their glory, many waltzed through it differently after finding that fitting bond. But what was it like beforehand? With Spencer's profound interest in libraries, it wouldn't even surprise her if he once had a profession related to that. 
  • "I'll pick you up." Was all Tempest said in assurance for when he’d eventually dive down, those hands and feet wouldn’t get him very far on his own. With the reminder to fetch Spencer later, the young drake would sprint forth and take his leap into the depths below that railing.

    Due to how much their behemoth of an ally stood out like a gigantic black mess below, he was far too easy to spot. A brief paused ensued upon noticing multiple sets of bluish hues gazing back at him. Curious to see him up close, the much, much smaller male shifted his tail sideways repeatedly and approached Irrlith’s side. From there, he swam past his neck and drifted beside his ear, taking a moment to observe how the big lug moved about until realizing that he was walking across the seafloor.

    When a low splash was heard from above, the sea drake turned his head up before giving off a series of clicks to converse a reply since they both knew how. Be right back. Now making a full one-eighty turn, Tempest briefly paddled to angle himself up and head straight towards the Rider, who more than likely completed his ritual by now.

    Once he was reached, the aquatic reptile widened his emerald orbs at the sight of gills, the beast expected something entirely different. Moving closer, Tempest lowered and raised himself below where the man was, and within seconds he’d find himself on the beast’s upper back where the two large fins were, in place of his non-existent wings so he could grab something. Should the man take hold of said fins, the dovah dipped his head and swam downward again, just to reach the hulking figure once more.

    Eventually, the sea drake returned to Irrlith, only this time he’d be above his upper neck. Do you even have lungs? He questioned through more audible clicks. While trailing closely behind his head and exhaling a few bubbles to keep himself from floating up, they’d see the long horizontal mass beside them matching their speed: The Invictus. The humming sounds of machinery could be heard from it rotating its own propellers to keep up.

    Alas, their journey to the Water Nation has begun.

  •  

    I'm going to tear this page apart again 8)

     

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