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Post by evelyn on Mar 13, 2017 5:12:44 GMT
Evelyn Frye
The room in which she stood was dark, save for the red light that dimly provided something by which she could see. The lack of appropriate lighting was fitting, considering that it was a darkroom she was working in—developing the film of her latest batch of photos. It was a tedious process—one that took several hours from start to finish with all of the negatives she had on her reels—but it was a labor of love, and one that produced outstanding prints more often than not. The majority of her work was colored, however—taken, processed on digital equipment that had no need for the chemical treatments she labored on currently. Her passion had always been the traditional chemical mediums of photography: black and whites, sepia tones, and duotone prints were all produced within that room. Her full-color work had certain earned accolades among Sanctuary’s press, but it was those mono- and bi-chromatic sections of her portfolio that kept job offers rolling in for the freelancer.
While her photos and accompanying articles for the media giants of Sanctuary were often pieces on mundane topics like political and business corruption or social welfare issues that concerned the majority of the country’s residents—she sold stories to the highest bidder on conditions of editorial freedom—the fact was that she didn’t enjoy that portion of her job. No, her inner drive was thoroughly in places that were considered taboo and illegal in her home—the magical and the fantastical.
The photos that were in her darkroom were of the supernatural occurrences that had happened weeks prior; demons, angels, and all other kinds of spirits and creatures laid before the public then. It was a horrible point in time for the reputation of magic-kind and magi-sympathizers—counteractive to her work in trying to make those very people stand out as otherwise normal or beneficial—but it was a fact of reality now, and there was no changing that. The accompanying article she had written hours earlier was not for the corporate media, but for the open source and the “rebellious” ones. It was an opinion piece, reflecting on the event and how it shaped the lives of those whose memories still survived the mass mental cleansing the state implemented in similar times—in it, she wrote that “…it is probably best they erase their memories this time.”
In the last minutes of her process, she fixed her otherwise finished prints so that they would not degrade or be ruined in the light. Thankfully, it was night time and the lights wouldn’t reach the far back of the room. The building in which she had set up her lab was not her apartment, but an abandoned school building; specifically, the media and arts wing. The place had been left to rot by the city over the ages, having made larger and more expensive ones, but for her purposes it worked just fine. In part, she had chosen the location in that it was out of the way and no one would bother with it; but, it had largely been sentimental reasons she had chosen it—it was the high school she had attended ten years prior as a junior.
As she closed the door of the darkroom behind her, she pulled out a small ring of keys—“borrowed” from the janitor during her school years there—and locked it so that she could come back for the prints in the morning. Reaching into a side pocket in her backpack, she pulled a cigarette out of the pack inside and pulled a lighter out of a pocket in her jeans; lighting it, she took a long drag of it before exhaling the smoke as she put the lighter away.
Though she tried not to think about it often, there was a weight on her shoulders that never quite went away no matter how dearly she wished it to go away: if she was found out by the authorities, it was likely torture or death. She had no formal connections to them, but her sympathies to the organization known as “Eden” would undoubtedly raise red flags; she used a pseudonym and a much different style of writing when creating content for illicit magazines, but there was always a chance that she would slip up—everyone did, eventually.
Once the cigarette was to the filter, she tossed the butt into a nearby trashcan—decaying and rusted as it was—and started to walk towards the stairs and, ultimately, to an exit. Although she had work to do—opinion pieces, stories to turn in or sell, and photo shoots to attend—it was, for the most part, on her schedule. She had enough money saved for rent, food, and emergency or leisure expenses for at least the next two months; she could afford to take her time and enjoy herself for a night or two. Tonight’s agenda consisted of simply relaxing and, possibly, chatting over the phone with a friend—most of her phone calls were for work offers, but on occasion a friend from high school or college would give her a ring.
Having exited the school building, she made her way out front and walking down the sidewalk towards the nearest bus stop—about three or four blocks away. Her apartment was on the other side of town—too long of a ride for her bike, and she lacked a car of her own simply because she wanted to pocket the extra cash she might’ve spent on a payment and insurance. After about fifteen minutes, she came to the bus stop and sat on the bench. |
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Post by Jay on Mar 13, 2017 16:50:02 GMT
Phanuel Coincidences were defined as an occurrence of events without apparent causal connection. Phanuel didn't truly agree with that definition - it seemed too unlike the ordered cosmos she was so used to. Everything happened for a reason.
Perhaps it was fate that drew the angel in human form to the bus stop today.
Seating herself on the bench, she took in the sights of the people of Sanctuary walking and talking. Unaware they were of the things that existed around them.
"Got a light?" Phanuel asked Evelyn as she sat.
Smoking had become a habit she picked up during her little stakeout. Apparently, it was unhealthy. Phanuel didn't see how. Empyrean angel
True Neutral | Ageless | Genderless |
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Post by evelyn on Mar 13, 2017 17:36:30 GMT
Evelyn Frye
A few minutes prior, Evelyn had pulled out her phone-- a simple and somewhat nostalgic looking device--to check a text message she had just received. It was nothing too important, just a client wanting her to call them for...something. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, but she put the phone back in her pocket and leaned back against the bench. When the other woman sat down and asked for a light, the photographer didn't look up at first when she reached for her lighter. "Yeah, go ahead," she said as she pulled it out and handed it over. In all honesty, she didn't care for smoking tobacco--she preferred the sweet leaf, as it were--but the former was cheaper and easier to get, so she made due. Her habit would almost certainly cut her lifespan down considerable in the long run, but it took the edge off of her stress when it counted. |
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Post by Maximillion B. VonMitternacht on Mar 13, 2017 18:53:21 GMT
Maximillion B. VonMitternacht Slay Evil Immediately
Maximillion did a little magic trick, more for his own amusement than anything. It was a very small trick, a basic one-handed sleight with a nickel. He did it in his coat pocket where nobody could see. He did it again, then he did it backward, then he did a few sleights where the coin would seem to vanish as his hands performed a series of gestures, the coin reappearing between each of his fingers, then reached out - pretending there was someone standing there - and plucked the coin from the play-pretend ear of his play-pretend spectator.
He could imagine about a thousand places he would rather be right now, but in what time he'd had to learn about this place he was in, hearing about 'Sanctuary' had instantly put it near the top of places he had to visit. It had been a complicated maneuver, having the Wards around his Seals cloaked from advanced detection, but so long as he didn't do anything to draw attention to himself - which he couldn't see happening, especially in a place like Sanctuary was rumored to be - he would be fine, or so the Channelers assured him, as he gave them some coin for their troubles. It seemed he wasn't the only person to make a trek there, so there was a market for these kinds of services.
Maximillion did the coin trick again, and had been focusing on listening for the bus - or, at the very least, to see if he could gauge it's distance - when he heard "Got a light?", prompting him to turn his head in that direction. He happened to have a lighter, and was fishing in his pocket for one, until he realized that the speaker had been talking to someone else, who was also waiting for the bus.
With a sheepish grin, he removed his hand, empty, from his pocket, and returned to doing his little sleight-of-hand trick with the coin. OOC Notes: I don't want to come in too heavy, so I am taking it easy, for now. Feel free to think of a way to include me, if you'd be so kind, and we can either discuss it over Discord/PM, or you can just do something in your next post. |
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Mar 13, 2017 19:33:51 GMT
It had been a hard, busy day for Luda, filled with stress caused both by demanding employers and a boiling undercurrent of discontent in the city which was carried by many the middle aged female had come in contact with. Something was brewing which would probably boil over within the next few days. Since she was already managing tasks formed in response to residue of the demonic attack the city, including the need to hide or replace some sorts of information, she shouldn't be surprised. It just meant she'd have more to do tomorrow.
At least today was mostly over and she could finally go home. She wasn't sure of she'd get much rest, but at least she could try. After getting herself cleaned up of course. Her denim overalls and red shirt were dirty. Her tasks today had been mostly very hands on and manual. She had a large backpack which was lumpy with its contents.
At the stop the woman slowed, pausing to pull her unruly greying hair away from her face. She'd bus today, alongside plenty of other tired working people who were really just ready to call the day over.
Of course at any bus stop you encountered all sorts of people. Each had their own stories and we're heading their own ways. It was rather common to just ignore all the others. Few people actually cared where strangers were headed. Chances were unless you rode the same bus at the same time daily, there was not even basis to try and talk. Yet Luda knew people liked to talk about themselves and she sometimes found out interesting things from listening, so she asked Just in general, "busy day?"
She was one who'd been busy but chances were she wasn't alone.
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Post by evelyn on Mar 17, 2017 4:14:08 GMT
Evelyn Frye
As the darker skinned woman took her lighter, Evelyn looked over to see that two other people had shown up to the bus stop. One of them was a tall, dark man with a somewhat muscular frame and a groomed yet somewhat imposing visage--if she weren't out of film at the time, she might have asked for a picture. The other to show up at the bus stop was a woman wearing a set overalls and a red shirt--she looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, judging from the grey streaks in her hair. Her question was a bit odd--phrased in a way that one would ask with a familiar or singular person and not a group of total strangers--but it was better than sitting in silence.
"Eh...I guess so," the photographer replied, "Not really that bad when you enjoy what you do, though."
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Post by Maximillion B. VonMitternacht on Mar 17, 2017 14:25:34 GMT
Maximillion B. VonMitternacht Busy day?
"Daylight hours last longer, yet it's as though there's still never enough time in the day." Maximillion replied, assuming the question to be generally expressed. He would've said more, but as he figured, 'social protocol' meant that general questions were answered, by all parties, somewhat briefly, amidst discourse resulting from the preceding responses.
'Social norms' were alien to Maximillion, but he was often able to power through his difficulties by simply expressing his earnest, forthcoming personality, and establishing a rapport with people who eventually came to realize that he was as much of an earnest personality as he came off to be. Even though subtle interactions between each other, his fellows, waiting at the bus stop, were already weaving their own sort of 'magic trick', where unspoken words, and body language, spoke volumes he could neither parse nor understand.
But, hey... 'fake it 'til you make it' was a thing, right?
It then struck him that this might be when someone might bring up a general subject, an 'icebreaker' to help get conversation flowing a bit more smoothly. This tactic had varying rates of success, in his hands, but he decided to give it a try.
"The weather has really been something else, huh?" He asked, tilting his head upwards to regard the afternoon sky. The sky was mostly overcast, but the clouds were white and fluffy, and the sun could be seen peeking out from between them on occasion. The weather was on the colder side, but just so cold that any hat and jacket would do, not requiring anything particularly heavy or dense. One's breath clouded when they exhaled, but it was only noticeable if you were looking for it, and was easy to ignore. Exposed cheeks or hands might be feeling the nip of the cold, but the cold wasn't such that it would hurt after a few moments of exposure, unlike on the more icy, snowy, blustery days.
"If I've got to wait for a bus, I'd rather not do it during a blizzard!" he joked. |
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Mar 20, 2017 17:21:12 GMT
Luda listened carefully to the observations of the others. "Oh good, so many people have nothing positive to say lately." she observed grimly, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "you're fortunate if you have a vocation." Of course Luda had one as well, but many people she'd met lately were lacking in some way thanks to recent cruel circumstances. Luda wasn't severely effected, but she encountered those who were worse off regularly. "we're really lucky its only this cold, though having a proper snow day would be nice." she agreed. It could be a lot worse. a few years ago she remembered there being a very brutal blizzard which had provided plenty of challenges even to her affluent connections. Yet such a simple weather event could almost seem magical(in the safe way, not real magic) to children and even some adults. It'd be a nice change of pace for her.
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Post by Jay on Mar 25, 2017 17:52:54 GMT
Phanuel Mortals were interesting in the conversations they engaged in. The concept of small talk was new to Phanuel.
After getting the lighter, she simply held it up to her mouth and, without touching the switch, the flame came from the tip. "Thank you."
The angel handed the lighter back to Evelyn before sitting back to listen to the conversations. Empyrean angel
True Neutral | Ageless | Genderless |
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Post by evelyn on Mar 31, 2017 2:38:54 GMT
Evelyn Frye
OOC: Would like to point out that first post clearly states that it is night time. IC: Quietly stuffing the lighter in her pocket, the photographer shrugged a bit and rubbed her bare arms--she hadn't even noticed the cold until the man they were conversing with had pointed it out. "It pays the bills,"she mused in reply, continuing her conversation with the older-looking woman, "What about you? Enjoy your job, or is it a bit 'ehh'?" The latter part of her question was accented with a gesture could be taken to mean "so-so." Her gaze changed from the older-woman, to the one who had first come to sit next to her at the bus stop; would she join in, or did she just need a smoke?....not that it bothered Evelyn much. She would have preferred a bit less small talk herself--outside of work related conversations and interviews, she preferred to stay in her thoughts and ideas than talk with people. Jay Loner。 Maximillion B. VonMitternacht XARXU (OOC) |
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Mar 31, 2017 18:14:56 GMT
'Very much meh." The middle aged woman admited "it pays well enough. I'm glad to have work, but coworkers and clients are really just horrid, and tempers have been unusually short. I'd be able to enjoy anything if the people were more tolerable." So why didn't she just find different work? Now was a bad time for that kind of thing.
Luda cocked her head. She thought she could hear a bus coming, but the sound was still not very close.
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Post by Maximillion B. VonMitternacht on May 10, 2017 15:48:03 GMT
Maximillion B. VonMitternacht He could feel the conversation slipping away from him, and his opportunities to get a word in edgewise becoming less and less. It all came down to a matter of risk-taking; would he do it, or would he miss his chance?
"Do any of you know of any good news outlets? Online, or print, or even word of mouth. There are some interesting goings-ons going on in the city, and I have managed to track down some information that I don't think the Law Enforcement would be too keen on letting get out. I intend to structure the information in such a way that it wouldn't generally compel an agency to feel a need to go hunting down journalists, but there are things people need to know, and I don't feel like just anyone can gain access to the information I have."
He didn't like drawing attention to himself, and he could feel his face heat up as he spoke. Fortunately, his ebony skin tone concealed any blush from view.
"I know it's on the late side, but I can think of no better time to get this thing in motion, and I am not wholly familiar with the layout of Sanctuary." |
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on May 14, 2017 1:55:29 GMT
Luda cocked her head slightly towards the dark skinned male but didn't answer his question. Of course she knew of venues where illegal information traveled, but if he said this much to total strangers, than surely she could not trust him with information like that unless she wanted to risk the government finding out enough information to respond to the alternative news. Of coirse much of these stories they simply called false news or fiction, which satisfied many people enough to keep such things quiet. Yet she was curious into what he thought he knew which the government might wish to hide. She crossed her arms. "I have no interest in conspiracy stories. Too many false ones pop up all the time." She declared. though this was the opposite of the truth. She liked to be in the know of as much of the things going on in the city she could, but she figured that in this instanfe she might learn more by acting disinterested than by acting like Max had anthing worth letting the world know right off the bat.
Jay XARXU (OOC) evelyn
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Post by Maximillion B. VonMitternacht on Jun 5, 2017 18:16:34 GMT
Maximillion B. VonMitternacht "False leads, eh.." Max muttered under his breath. He took a fake (but convincing) drag from his cigarette, let it linger, then released it.
~What would you consider a false lead?~
The 'voice' would 'sound' like it was coming, in full stereo, as if through High-Def headphones to Luda, but there would, of course, be no such headphones, unless she happened to be carrying some in a bag or something. When the ebony man spoke again, she might realize that the voice she'd 'heard' in her head, was the same as his.
"It's true that one shouldn't waste time with rumors and gossip, but there's enough going on that I simply cannot keep it all to myself.."
He turned, gazing first at Luda, then to Evelyn, intensely. His age was difficult to guess, but the child-like, earnest look in his facial expression, in his eyes, would convey a degree of honesty and perhaps some degree of innocence that was out of touch with his apparent age.
This time, both Luda and Evelyn would 'hear' the voice, although there would be nothing for anyone else to 'hear':
~The world is big, and there's no time like the present to find out just how big.~ |
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Loner, Kazetatsu, Kaze
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Post by Loner。 on Jun 5, 2017 18:40:16 GMT
He was doing something strange. It certainly crossed Luda's mind to report the dark skinned stranger for 'suspicious activity' as she was obligated to. She didn't like whatever he was doing with the sound, but remained stoic watching for the bus as if she had not noticed what was going on in any detail. She thought up the details of the report she could send out if she thought this guy was up to no good, but she wasn't going to send off any information at the moment.
She refused to answer the question of her criteria for news and information leads. Her litmus tests on the matter were not things she wished to bother to explain. Instead she sarcastically addressed the latter comment. "Yes we've all taken basic geography in school." She answered as an old school way to know how big the world was. The size of the earth wasn't something she needed a refresher on. XARXU (OOC)
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