( 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.]

[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! )

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.]