( open )

[combats]

Date & Time: Backdated to the week before the Uruguay mission, during timeswap.
Location: It's a whenever and wherever you want deal again!
Characters: Jacquese Foran & YOU
Summary: Jacquese is turned into his little acolyte self and is wandering around lost, come say hi.
Warnings: angry uncooperative mute child alert

[ In the compound and even outside of it, a young boy can be found walking around. A boy that might seem familiar to some. Jacquese, even without his horns and his monk robes, can still be quite recognizable. His hair is much shorter, but still long enough to be in a ponytail and the scar across his nose is still there too. The most notable differences were of course that he was much smaller and younger, looking to be about 15 years old, and the permanent scowl he was wearing on his face.

Waking up in a strange place and then being surrounded by people he'd never seen before with no familiar face in sight had been very disconcerting and it hadn't taken Jacquese long at all to decide he wanted out. He'd much rather be in the dreary Prontera Church than here, wherever 'here' was. With that in mind he'd set out to find a way out and regardless of what people told him, he kept looking. People, especially adults, couldn't be trusted after all. Father Remiel had said he'd always be there for him and where was he now? Not where Jacquese needed him, obviously.

So he sulkily keeps wandering around, getting lost and frankly not giving a shit about it. He has a mace if he gets anywhere where he needs to defend himself so he's sure he'll be just fine. ]

Comments

[allsongs]

[those days closest to the mission found Simmaeri back to the shape she had chosen ages ago – a shape more suited for cities than a towering quadruped from a magic north. she is very little concerned with her own loss of time; time has value only in relation to the people she meets – this with limited time.

like this one, skulking around the corner. Simmaeri's song softens in volume, the last note tapering off as she turns her head to look his way. she sits on that outdoor bench, hardly dressed for the weather, but hardly minding. rather, her attention seems quite quick to zero in on him – solely him – with little trouble or shade of concern on her face.

she watches, mouth still faintly pursed even after the passing of the last note.]

[combats]

[ Jacquese almost misses both Simmaeri and the song entirely with the whirlwind of frustration in his head almost drowning out everything else. But he does take notice after he's stormed past and the last few notes catch his attention, causing him to stop in his tracks. He doesn't turn around right away, the song itself has him more fascinated than whatever the source might be, and his fingers twitch by his side as he tries to figure out what it would sound like on the piano.

However, the song ends too soon for him to really find that out and he finally turns to see where it came from ... only to find a woman blatantly staring at him. He immediately crosses his arms over his chest, raising his chin defiantly as he glares back at her. ]

[allsongs]

[such hostility! Simmaeri's eyes crinkled a little, instead smiling back at him. what a way to greet a stranger, horned stranger.]

Have I offended you, man?

[combats]

[ You were staring and staring is rude, lady.

In fact, he'll try to get that point across by pointing to his eyes and then at Simmaeri before making an 'X' out of his arms and shaking his head. When he's done that, he crosses his arms and frowns disapprovingly as he tilts his head in a silent "has no one ever told you that" question. ]

[allsongs]

[hoh–?

Simmaeri's mouth quirks. it's a pretty easily-read sign, even for her.

she turns her head, smiling elsewhere.]

I shall keep my eyes away, then, yes?

[combats]

[ The fact that she kept smiling was both infuriating and at the same time, in the face of all his misdirected anger, somewhat comforting in that it reminded him of Father Remiel. A tiny bit of familiarity in all the strangeness he'd suddenly found himself in.

He nods resolutely in response only to realize a few seconds later that, of course, she wasn't going to see it with her head turned like that. As color rushes to his cheeks, he quickly turns on his heel, ready to storm off again but he doesn't do so right away in favor of glancing at her again from the corner of his eyes. ]

[allsongs]

[how like the child he truly is... Simmaeri finds it more endearing than offensive, herself, knowing his manner a hundred times over. she knew ways to reach his like.

she sang once more. airier, more carefree than before. a sweet song filled with the honey of summer, of warm sun and crisp grass underfoot. a song for a shedding of troubles, of breathing out hostility.

a short reprise from discontent.]

[combats]

[ The song instantly roots him to the spot, making him unable to move away the same way he's unable to stop himself from relaxing at the sound and the thoughts the song conjures in his mind.

He's well-aware what music can do for people, Father Remiel's songs always managed to calm him down eventually, but this lady's song was different. Stronger. It was like nothing he had ever heard before that could affect him this quickly. The only thing he knew that could cause such instant effects were the holy spells they were taught at the church. Could her songs be magic? He wanted to know.

There's still a moment of hesitation born out of childish stubbornness, but he finally turns and walks up to her. Coming to a halt in front of her, his scowl was now replaced by a cautiously curious expression as he mouths:

How do you do that? ]

[allsongs]

[there is no break in her song as he approaches, the smile isolated to her eyes for moments, glinting with a bit of amusement. he is not an unfamiliar sort in his demeanor, but she has not seen a boy sporting horns such as those before. an intriguing thing.

with him stopped before her, she folds her hands in her lap anew, bringing her song to its end, giving him his time to speak.

it's curious to her that no sound follows his pantomime of words, and her eyebrows lift slowly.]

There is no sound in your words. [it's lost between a question and a statement. her head tilts just faintly.] Is this correct?

[whatsupcroc]

Looking for anything in particular?

( Collette brings herself to a stop in her wheelchair after having watched one of the people who stood out just enough in the crowds to mark him as other for a while. He looks familiar, but she's not sure she can pin it down right now -- she offers the other teen a friendly smile along with her genuine curiosity.

She glances at the mace he carries, then back to his face. Interesting choice in security blanket. Most people went with guns from the appropriate century, marking him as one of those from either a less fortunate one, or one further in the past.

Though she really shouldn't assume! )

[combats]

[ Jacquese's first reaction is to glare and shake his head and that's actually what he goes with by default. He can find it by himself, thank you very much. ... Only he's been at it for hours now and it was getting rather tiring. She wasn't an adult and although he never got along with his peers, there was a chance she might be more truthful.

There's still a moment of indecision as he glances away, biting his lip and hooking his thumb around the strap that holds the mace in place on his back, before he makes up his mind and finally looks back at her.

The glare lessens a little as he holds out his hand imperiously, fully expecting her to give her own. ]

[whatsupcroc]

( More and more familiar, though the glares aren't. Collette quirks up an eyebrow, looking to his hand and back to his face. )

If you insist!

( She says at last, lips twitching into an amused smile as she gives him her hand. What, is he going to pull her along? No way is this guy going to do the knightly thing. )

There's something to be said about showing over telling.

[combats]

[ The remarks earn a very unimpressed look from Jacquese and he's tempted to just let go, forget about it and storm off again, but well. He has her hand now, might as well answer her previous question.

Although his entire demeanor is rough, the way he handles her hand is surprisingly gentle as he turns it in his own so her palm is facing upwards. He lets go of the strap so he can trace out the letters on her palm with his other hand, carefully spelling: O - U - T. ]

[whatsupcroc]

( Yep. Writing things out? She concentrates, watching his hand write out the letters and feeling them at the same time. She's not done anything like this for years. )

Out? That was out, I think. But out of the Hold, or out of the island? One I can help you with.

[combats]

[ All this would probably be easier if he had something to write on and write with, but since he didn't have his board on him and hadn't bothered to ask for those things, this is what he got stuck with as means of communication.

He clenched his teeth to suppress his frustration, shaking his head at 'Hold' and nodding at the island bit, before tracing out H-O-M-E and looking at her expectantly. It better be the island one she could help him with.]

[whatsupcroc]

( Biting down on her lip to better concentrate, Collette ends up sighing in her own frustration. Her fingers twitch as he draws on her palm, ticklish and responding to the touch. This was stupidly distracting. )

That was either HOME or HONE, and this is starting to tickle! Okay, one moment, let me get something you can really write with.

( It's just her tablet, but she waits for him to relinquish her hand before twisting around to unzip her satchel and rummage through it. )

The way we get home is kind of unpredictable. We don't have direct control over it, but it happens for most people in a matter of days, or weeks, or months.

( So far it's not been able to be years. She tugs her tablet free, pressing the button to load the screen. A few taps brings her into a notepad program, keyboard visible on screen. )

This works like a slate, only you press the letters you want to make them show up right here. Want to try this out?

[combats]

[ Rolling his eyes in exasperation because that was very clearly an M, okay.

Jacquese drops her hand with a scowl and again is sorely tempted to just drop the issue and leave, but then she's finally answering the question ... and he's not liking that answer very much. Before he can show just how displeased he is though, she's produced the "something to write with" and it sufficiently distracts him.

He'd seen the device before in the room he'd woken up in, but he hadn't paid any attention to it then so he could only frown skeptically as she explained it. It wasn't like anything he'd ever seen before and he's still not entirely convinced when he reaches out to tap a random letter and see what it does. ]

Hope you like backtags and backdating! Is January 25 okay?

[hornedomen]

[Outside of the compound, Ico slowly made his way to the housings. At this point, even walking exhausted him and his breath became ragged. He slumped against a wall. His head felt like it was on fire despite the cold rain. Blood ran from his horn down to his neck and soaked into his red tunic. Ico was not alarmed; it was only the rain making the sticky blood flow again.

He heard a noise and turned his head up. Too quickly, he regretted, and felt a twinge. Without Jacquese's horns, it took Ico a moment to remember him. However, he knew him. He wondered if the horns were false or perhaps, like his own, his horns grew in the span of a single day. Ico smiled, his thoughts preoccupied with his familiarity over the unusual scowl.]

You've changed, [he breathed.]

yes to all those things! <3

[combats]

[ Jacquese was quite deliberately not really looking at the people in his surroundings, too focused on his goal of getting the hell out anyway. So only when the figure in the corner of his eyes spoke up did he finally look over.

His eyes landed on a bloodied boy which was enough to make him frown, but then the words actually registered and Jacquese glanced around, certain that the boy must be addressing someone else. Except it turned out there was no one else in the immediate area and his gaze turned back to the boy sharply.

The way he'd spoken made it sound like the boy knew him and Jacquese was very certain he'd never seen him before in his life. It raised all his defenses instantly and with a very wary frown he mouthed:

Who are you? ]

[hornedomen]

[Though he seemed unfocused, Ico matched the words that Jacquese silently conveyed.]

You've forgotten? I understand. Koltira did, too.

[Tired, in pain, and hungry, Ico had little strength left. He sat on the ground and nestled against the wall as if preparing to sleep. His head twisted awkwardly because of his horns. If he had been able to get more comfortable, he likely would have fallen asleep immediately.]

I'm Ico. I know you because you were here before. But I think it'll be in the future to you.

[combats]

[ The boy was speaking little sense to Jacquese's irritation. However, he realized, that might have something to do with how he was bleeding from the head. A concussion? It certainly would explain the nonsense babbling and the way the kid had just slumped to the ground.

As much as Jacquese wanted nothing to do with anyone here, he could hardly leave the other boy in the state he was in. He was an acolyte and with that came the power to do something to change the boy's poor state. It was a responsibility, Father Remiel had said.

There was an exaggerated sigh before Jacquese raised a hand and cast Heal twice over the boy, following it with a Blessing for an extra feeling of invigoration. He stepped closer then, crossing his arms and squinting at Ico to see if that was enough. Acolyte's heals weren't exactly the most powerful ones after all. ]

[hornedomen]

[Ico moved around. His head still ached and his right horn remained wobbly, but he no longer wanted to sleep. He slowly rose to his feet. A few wounds had closed. Ico watched with amusement as he opened and closed his hand without feeling pain. He no longer needed to brace himself against the wall. However, he remained very hungry.]

Thank you, Jacquese. What are you doing out here?

[combats]

[ That seemed to have done the job well enough so Jacquese left it at that, lowering his hand again. He was ready to turn and leave, but then Ico actually said his name and it became very clear that he did in fact know Jacquese himself and it wasn't a concussion talking.

He froze, eyes narrowing warily as he stared at Ico. He only belatedly realized he was asked a question and he vaguely pointed in the direction he'd been walking in, his gaze not leaving Ico for a second and the suspicion was apparent on his face. ]

[hornedomen]

[Ico continued to smile despite Jacquese's suspicion.]

What's over there?

[He looked where he pointed. Then he shook his head.] I don't understand. What happened to your slate? I have paper here.

[He reached for the paper he carried. To his mild surprise, it was missing.]

I must have forgotten it. There's more in the housings. Do you want to follow me? I have food there, too.

[As if on cue, his belly rumbled loudly. Ico pressed his hand over it and he laughed.]

[combats]

[ It's not hard to figure out that by 'slate', the boy meant his miniature blackboard which, last time he'd seen it, he'd left on his desk after getting send out of the classroom.

Not that it was any of Ico's business, but the fact he knew about the board meant that he was telling the truth and that he did really know him and that ... that Jacquese found very unnerving.

Even if Ico had the paper on him, Jacquese would not have taken it. He was feeling very disinclined to answer anything and the offer of food, even though he was feeling rather hungry by now, was met with a vehement shake of his head.

... Only his stomach rumbled in response and Jacquese hid his embarrassment with a scowl. ]