Rei Midoriyama • Spellcaster
Played by Lenara


Started by Ezio Ember at 28 Feb, 2020 5:00 am
May 20, 2020
17 Posts

Ezio Ember

Wolf Blood

Some people learn to love their chains.

That wasn't hers to be sorry for. It occurred to him, though, she may not be sorry for it, so much as sorry because of it. He still felt like he'd said too much. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut about things that were long over now, things that were his own problem. He wondered, briefly, what kind of spellcaster she'd be, if she had magic, but as strange as the Goth family was, maybe he'd let that one alone for now. Then, she'd be just like every other Goth woman, hmm? Every damn one had her secrets, sometimes too many, but if she was dormant then she was safe from whatever kept setting the ancient blood on fire.

If, someday, he had to save Cassandra from an Inferniate that'd engulfed her house or something, he was never going to stop kicking himself in the ass. He could teach her, of course, but the only thing he was good at was untamed magic and some practical. Granted, mediumship and clairvoyance fell under untamed. If one wanted to get technical, untamed was her birthright, but it was also a curse.

Ezio couldn't even save Morgyn. If Cassandra got in over her head, he probably wouldn't be able to help her, either. No, it was best not to even go there.

Oh, he knew that. Of course, it was probably not normal to know someone's name just by looking at them. He didn't spend a lot of time in Willow Creek, but he'd seen her occasionally in passing. She used to have pigtails, he remembered that too. Was that creepy? Maybe that was a little creepy. "Nice to meet you," he said, as if he had no idea what her name was. "There's always light in the dark, though. That's how light and dark work. They look different, see, but they're not really different at all. Even when the night is at its darkest, there's light somewhere, if one only bothers to see it." Sometimes it was hard, sure. Nothing worth anything ever was easy.

But the night was at its darkest just before the sun began to rise. Maybe that was a weird way of looking at it, but after a while, you either broke or you became stronger than that which tried to break you. Ezio couldn't turn his back on Morgyn when the idiot needed him, and if he'd broken, he wouldn't be here for Morgyn now. It sounded ridiculous, but that really was how it worked in his head.

Give me hope, give me strength,
I don't know, where it went.

"Without light, we would see nothing," Cassandra said, with all the smartness that only a mortal child could subscribe to, and perhaps that was her way of agreeing with Ezio, and not the off-colored remark of a wise-ass it seemed to be. But that was her methodology, and those paintings that hung around her room, that gallery upon which only her brother and her parents, because let's face it, parents know, were painted with that in mind. The canvases were not made dark by the paint smeared across its white fibers, but rather the opposite: they were monsters revealed by lightness added to dark fabrics.

Likewise, it was not the brightness of one's existence that Cassandra sought when she encountered new people. It was the darkness beyond that. The pain, misery, and suffering that another individual were plagued by was the darkness by which Cassandra was drawn, and that was why she loved art, for art was a medium by which the tortured of this world found their freedom. In books, in paintings, in poems, in music, in plays, it was okay to be different, and difference it where Cassandra thrived.

"In the city, you cannot truly appreciate the night sky, for the lights are so bright at night for us to see, that it takes away from the natural glow of the moon and stars. In areas where civilization is less dense, the light cast by the moon and the stars is enough by which to see. I've often wondered how much our want for convenience has dulled the world around us," she said, when she was sure he wasn't about to speak again. Her focus became the painting once more, and she frowned slightly.

"I wonder if they found comfort in knowing that they were looking upon the same universe at night, even if they were apart. Or maybe they didn't." There was an almost macabre finality in the last four words that Cassandra spoke, one she missed altogether herself. She lifted a hand, pushing a few strands of black hair behind her ear and adjusting her glasses. Her weight shifted, and if one watched closely they might see the signs of discomfort settling in. She'd tread into uncharted territory: encountering someone not entirely repulsed by her melancholic thoughts.

Her gaze narrowed slightly, jaw tensing as she reflected quietly upon her past. The friends that had come and gone, the mundane reality of her life, the fact that the only person that mattered in her world was her younger brother, and how she hoped that things would be easier for him. He dared to go where she wouldn't, even so much as turning his innermost thoughts, his art, into something for the public to behold whilst she struggled with the idea that anyone could potentially accept her for what she was and without judgment. That was why her artwork lined the walls of her room, and never made it to galleries, blogs, or social media.

Cassandra could not open her soul to the world, as countless other artists had before her.

Ezio Ember

Wolf Blood

Some people learn to love their chains.

That was almost cute, but it was the sort of cute he could only find in the strange irony of a practical child trying to talk philosophy with him of all Sims. Then again, it wasn't like she knew how old he was, and neither did she need to. He looked perhaps in his late twenties, at the oldest. The scars he carried weren't quite so fresh as they probably seemed like they were, and by now had probably become a part of him in a sense. They'd been there so long, it was just as well they didn't seem to be interested in going, as some part of him probably loved his scars now. It was either that, of course, or hate himself forever, and that was quite the miserable existence.

"Not the world, no," Ezio said. "Our perception of it is what dulls. You can't see the Milky Way as well, no matter where you are. But that's the way of our species. That's how it's been for centuries, and how it will continue to be. People like us, we're the weird ones, not everyone else. Well, maybe someday, they'll be weird." It was hard to say how the world would look in a few hundred more years.

Ezio probably wouldn't live to see that world.

That was a curious thought. Maybe they did. Truth be told, Ezio never asked, and neither of them had offered answers. He'd only distantly known them then, anyway, and then he had his own troubles to be concerned about. He glanced back at the painting and wondered what happened, after he killed Jean and disappeared. He wondered how many of the stories from back then had ended well. Maybe this was the sort of thing Drake wrote about. What could've been, might've been. Endings to stories that had gone on without him, because always they did that.

"I suppose that's something we'll never know," he said. "So, is this the part where I awkwardly ask you out for coffee or something likewise weirdly mundane, talk in nerdy circles about things you're not interested in, and then we part peaceably and you decide you absolutely never want to talk to me again, or should I just skip that and go away now?" Skipping that whole ordeal and getting to the going away part, if there was going to be such, seemed like a lot less trouble in the longer run. Perhaps he was getting strangely tired of expending the effort for a letdown, too.

Drake would probably say here he could use more friends, anyway, as much of friends as he could manage to form with someone a fraction of his age... he had no idea what growing up was like in this day and age now. What did Sims worry about, alien abductions? He'd never asked because it seemed like a strange thing to wonder after.

Give me hope, give me strength,
I don't know, where it went.

Cassandra listened quietly to his words, blissfully (not so much) unaware of his otherworldly knowledge. She was less than a quarter his age, and only had the knowledge life had afforded her thus far. Knowledge that was rather limited. The youth was still thinking on his response and their conversation prior to his next query and his words gave her a startled pause.

For a long moment, Cassandra simply stared at Ezio, almost as if she was dumbfounded. There wasn't a single soul other than her brother that had ever gone for coffee with her, and she honestly didn't have a circle of friends that she hung out with. A strange sort of awkwardness and discomfort settled over Cassandra as she chewed the lower tier of her lip, tearing at it with the flats of her front teeth. She wasn't repulsed--in fact, she was the opposite of that and the idea of never talking to Ezio again struck her in way she didn't expect.

"What?" she blubbered awkwardly, tongue rolling in her mouth and the word coming out hardly sounding like what she intended to say. Her gaze slipped away, sweeping back and forth around them as if she'd perhaps heard things. That wasn't exactly uncommon. Her mouth opened a second time and words failed her, leaving her exasperated. Finally, after taking a deep breath, the youth seemed to find her proverbial footing and offered a crooked smile at Ezio.

"Yes." The syllable was fully formed, but not without a steadying breath. "I'd probably like that." 

It took her a moment afterward to realize what she'd said and, as Alexander would probably put it, how dorky it seemed. Of course Cassandra would stumble over a situation she'd never been in before, despite all the hypothetical thoughts that sometimes racked her brain. She wasn't incapable of daydreaming and in fact, it was a habit she often employed. But imagining things and experiencing them were two completely different beasts, and she felt like she was put on the spot. What was the saying that went with that? Ah, yes. The deer in the headlights experience.

Realizing how odd she appeared to behave in relation to his query, she lifted a hand upward to tuck a few extra strands of hair behind her ears. Her body was quivering slightly, her nerves on edge. Talking to strangers was a rare thing for her, and talking to them a second time often seemed like a horrifying thought. Fortunately it was one of those things that only came to fruition on campus, more often than not.

"I mean, I would like that," she clarified after a moment, bringing her gaze to meet his once more. 

Ezio Ember

Wolf Blood

Some people learn to love their chains.

... did he say something weird? He was fairly good at saying things that were weird, so if he had, that wouldn't be surprising in the least. Of course, he had no idea what he said that might count as weird. Hmm. Then again, her reaction sort of reminded him of his own that one time Lilith had decided they were doing friend-things together (that was a trip). So maybe it wasn't that he'd said something stupid or weird, necessarily, but more that it was new territory.

Well that was sad. Then again, people tended to shy away from the strange and unknown, and Cassandra Goth would most certainly count as that much. People annoyed him. He'd refrain from freezing them all, even if he could do so without killing anyone...

Sometimes, yes, there was a tiny little smudge of chaos in him, too.

"How's Saturday for you, then?" he asked. "I have a favourite little place in Magnolia Promenade. I'm free all day." Saturday meant there was no schoolwork to be doing, and he had no classes that day, either. That was a marked bonus and certainly helped with the whole having free time thing. Most people had time off at the weekend, but not all the time, hence asking. It was easier to plan around her, probably.

"I should uh, probably go back to being a useful human being," he explained, sounding amused. It was still Wednesday. "With any luck, I won't be late to class." One could hope. He'd been late to so many classes so far, it seemed almost stupid to bother trying to be on time, but then, he wasn't on probation yet. He should probably strive to keep it that way. It wasn't like tuition was expensive or anything, he could afford it fine enough, it was just kind of a waste of time to go an entire term and fail. He was very close to graduating, anyway, and he'd be setting something of a poor example to Morgyn.

Then again, school was one of the few things Morgyn did without being reminded to do it. The spellcaster loved science, go figure. It seemed like a strange pastime, probably, but Ezio preferred it. Better that he was blowing things up the old-fashioned way than he was jumping off the cliffs at magic realm or something.

Give me hope, give me strength,
I don't know, where it went.

Conversation with anyone other than her brother didn't come naturally to Cassandra, and her fingers absently began to twist at the hem of her shirt, seeking comfort from the cloth. Her lips thinned as she found herself tempted to gnaw on them, on the inside of her mouth, on anything to assuage the anxiety that surfaced. Finally, she lifted her chin subtly and offered a more genuine, fuller smile to Ezio.

"Saturday's great. Does noon sound good?" she said, and the moment he mentioned classes her features seemed to pale a little. How long had she been talking to him? She quickly pulled her phone from her pocket to address the time and her brow furrowed slightly. She wasn't late for her class--she'd missed it entirely. Whoops. There was absolutely no way she'd make it if she left now. She'd arrive right at the end of class, if she did. The youth tucked her phone away, making a mental note to check online for her assignments later. Cassandra would have to email the professor too, likely with a plausible excuse that was believable, as opposed to the truth: she'd gotten caught up talking to a stranger.

"Good luck with getting there on time," the youth said, pointing with a tilt of her chin back toward the exit. "And be safe. I suppose I don't need to tell you to watch out for cars." 

That sounded lame. Really lame. Like old-person lame, and that also bothered Cassandra. The awkwardness of those words hung in the air between them, leaving Cassandra speechless to follow up her farewell. Instead, she lifted a hand toward Ezio, wiggling her fingers as she failed to vocalize a better goodbye.

"I'll see you soon, then?" she chanced after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze moved back toward the painting, using it as a focal point to distract her from the increasing awkwardness of her situation. Perhaps she'd be more calm come Saturday. She could hope so, right?

Ezio Ember

Wolf Blood

Some people learn to love their chains.

He was still wondering if he'd said something weird. Or maybe she just wasn't good at socialising (lord knew he wasn't, either), and just now realised she was doing it.

Sometimes people did that, where they'd interact instinctively, carried away by some interest or excitement or another, and then realise, later down the line, they were talking to a person and get awkward. It was cute. Confusing, for sure, but cute. Ehh, he'd wonder about it later, probably after class, because that was the time slot allocated to thinking about random and confusing things. Oh, and examining his feelings. He did that from time to time (Morgyn could use to, more often).

Yeah, noon would be fine. Fortunately, Ezio woke up relatively early, even on Sunday (why, no idea). He usually got up, had a shower, and then spent all morning doing yoga, or meditating, or both, you know provided he didn't have a test or something, in which case he was probably doing schoolwork. Or lamenting his life, that was a marked possibility, too.

"See you soon, yes," he said. "Noon's fine. And don't worry, I hate cars," he added, with a slight boyish smirk. He did have the foresight to pull his notebook back out of his pocket, and scribble something down. He tore that out and handed it to her. "My number, so we don't spend several hours wandering around trying to find each other on Saturday." That seemed like a giant waste of time, to be sure, and perhaps a little bit frustrating, if nothing else.

Anyway, he was going to class now. With that, he gave her another smile and a slight wave, and headed down the stairs. He'd be wondering how the heck to get to Britechester from here, but what was the point in being a spellcaster... if you did something so pedestrian as take a bus...

(Soon as I'm caught up I can have their next thread up xD)

Give me hope, give me strength,
I don't know, where it went.