undergrounds | oh dear; oh dear (open post)

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oh dear; oh dear (open post)

JUNE 4; PLAYGROUND

There's a playground. Well, there a lot of playgrounds across the city. What makes this one right next to Coffers' Shop a bit more special than the other out there is this: Accidents.

It's not unheard of playgrounds to have the occasional accidents. It's who is the heart of the possible problem for this one.

Parents love it for the fact it's so safe for their kids there. They can drop their rowdiest youngsters at that spot and never worry about a scratch or bruise by the time they come back to pick them up.

Other adults though? The ones who shouldn't be lingering around or have too much interest in watching the kids? If you're not a babysitter for any of the children, there's a strong chance something may happen to you. Especially if you have an unfortunate reputation among the regulars there. At least the occasional sharp trip or tumble to the ground won't harm you that badly. A scuff or bruise but nothing too serious.

JUNE 5; GRAVEYARD (MORNING)

This part of the cemetery doesn't get a lot of attention. Compared to the ornate statues of angels weeping or grand mausoleums, the humble headstones and markers pale in comparison to them and often get little attention.

The row of tombstones here all belong to a small family, the (supposed) only surviving member studying not having quite enough time to pay her respects to the family she barely remembers. As a result it gets no notice, not attention besides the groundskeeper who keeps weeds off all the grounds.

Yet, in the early hours, some passerby may notice a trail of petals from a patch of wildflowers, outside of the cemetery, leading to the tombstones. This happens now and then. Not enough times to be reported on but enough times that the groundskeeper, if asked, will mention he's no longer surprised by the presence of tidy bushels of flowers on the graves. Someone is only paying their respects for them. There's no harm in that.

Plus he has no interest in going near it during these times. Not when it's so eerily cold that it makes his teeth chatter and his body shake if he's only a few feet from it. The coldness, in his opinion if ever asked, is the worst when near the one that happens to be marked FRANCISCO SEVILLE.

JUNE 5; COFFERS' SHOP (AFTERNOON)

... Is the shop chillier than usual? It seems to be with how when someone enters and they immediately shiver, rubbing their arms to ward off the chills.

The air-conditioning is strong but never this strong.

Those who go here regularly, from customers who come by everyday to and employees themselves, are having a hard time focusing on their works as they shiver and struggle to get the usually reliable free wi-fi to work on them or to get the coffee machine to cooperate for this one cup.

If asked if this happens a lot, some will say yes and some will be unsure but there's a general agreement in the air that this is not normal. The source of the coldness is hard to explain. The coldest spot changes from near the counter to the furthest corner or right outside the door.

Almost like it was... moving on its own.

[ OOC: Or make your own scenario in your comment! Prose and brackets welcomed! ]</td></tr></tbody></table>

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She blinks a bit when she passes by and hears someone's frustrated sigh close by. Turning her attentions to that, she sees the young man struggling to get his device to work. Sometimes it does, the screen will flicker and show signs of life, but then flicker back into a state of reluctant disuse.

Oh dear. Did she do that?

Out of hold habits, she says an apology aloud to the boy and Clara tries to keep her emotions in control so his poor iPod would work again. Hopefully it will within a minute or two. The poor thing looks ready to give in on itself soon.

Danil's head twists, a sudden, sharp jerk, and the hairs rise on his arms once more, just like that same, strange feeling that had happened when he first entered the shop. That twist in his belly the few times he did magic. His teeth grit, narrow shoulders rolling back, but then the flickering of his ipod stops.

His eyes narrow, and then...then there's a voice. Maybe a voice, maybe a whisper, maybe just words or a concept, curled into his mind.

Sorry.

Danil sucks his lip between his teeth and nibbles slightly. "...Hello?" He mutters the word, soft, and barely above his voice, and immediately feels very foolish.

Oh. He could hear her. Was he also...?

Must be if he's looking around for a voice in the busy crowd today, looking almost perplexed as she is.

She drifts closer to his direction and decides to test out her thoughts that he must be someone like her, in a way. Clara waves her hand to catch his attention, the gesture subdued but noticeable among the people huddled in their tables and sipping their drinks.

Already she's putting on a cheery smile on her face despite feeling under the weather, trying to look welcoming and friendly to the young man as possible. It never hurts to make a good impression if she's able to leave one at all.

Danil senses the movement first and turns sharply. After a moment of squinting, suddenly there's a woman on his left hand side as if she had always been there. He blinks for a moment, utterly non-plussed, and then bobs his head a little, a nod of greeting.

"Uh. Hello." He repeats himself, pauses and then asks, "Were you the one apologizing to me?"

She checks to make sure no one is looking at them and, when assured, she turns back to him with a big smile on her face. "I am! Sorry. I think I was the one causing your player over there to not work. Something about technology and I don't mix.

"Ohhh! Where are my manners?" She gives another wave, this time more proper and reserved. "I'm Clara. A ghost so remember to keep your voice down, okay? I would hate for you to get unwanted attention because of my antics."

Danil stares at the woman before him for a long, long moment. There's a shift in his posture, as if he would move, to pick up his stuff and leave, but that moment stretches and then never happens. His gaze doesn't fall from her face, pale, nearly colorless eyes fixed upon hers.

"Well." He says finally, her blunt honestly drawing like from him. "I'm fae." He shifts again as the words leave his lips, realizing that this is the first time he has actually uttered those words out loud. He doesn't feel a weight lift, doesn't feel a lessening of that tension that seems to pull taut at his shoulders, there is no release that comes with this confession. His head bows a little, and he chews at his lip before looking up at her once again.

"I suppose we make a pair of sorts."

"Hello there," she says once again, "and yes! That does make us quite a pair. Don't you think so?"

She certainly thinks so. Never once, she thinks, does she recall a having a fae enter the shop before to her knowledge.

It'll be nice to have a little talk with someone and who else then someone here? She drifts closer and reminds herself to keep her moods in check, not wanting to make the poor iPod act up again. His gaze is rather unnerving but she doesn't make a comment on it because why should she? It would be rude to do so and she can think of a few other things to talk with him about.

Speaking of which: "I'm sorry if that was sort of sudden for you. Introducing myself like that. I wanted to make sure you didn't start talking to me and get stared at."

Danil's mouth twists with that, but the intensity of his gaze lessens somewhat though he doesn't lower it. "It was sudden, but it was honest, and I can appreciate that." His gaze turns thoughtful, and he continues on. "How often to reveal yourself to people? And when you do....how often do they believe you?"

"Only when they see me directly. I usually speak up before they talk in public and someone notices them talking to thin air." Last thing she wants to do is cause trouble for people who thought, at first, she's just a friendly old lady. "Them believing me is a bit easier too. From my experience, they're often more knowledgeable than me in this whole 'other world' business! I'm still trying to get my bearings on being a ghost at times."

It doesn't seem to bother her too much though.

"That I understand." Danil responds, his voice barely above a soft murmur. His lips barely part and he seems fixated on her, wavering between two different choices. She understands it seems. A person like him, suddenly thrown into this world and expected to flounder on, when all bearings were lost. He had been floundering the best he could, but he had the feeling that it was on borrowed time.

"Funny. I am too." The tiny smile that he gives her is bleak. "I didn't know what I was until a year or so ago."

A year since Alla. A year since-He closed his eyes in pain, and forced himself not to think about it.

"Oh." Her look to him is very sympathetic now, no doubt understanding the feeling of loss and confusion as one struggled to understand themselves while feeling so alone despite being in either a crowd or a shop. "It takes time. Don't worry about it. There are others out there who will be more than willing to help you if you ask."

A lightbulb flickers over her head after she says that. "In fact: I can try and help you. I've been around for ten years or so. I know some things and maybe I can answer some of your questions."

Not all of them and it isn't a guarantee that she'll know the questions he may have, give light to some ideas he's been holding for over a year. The most she can do is offer a helping hand and hope it can be of some use to someone who needs it.

Danil's breath eases from between his pale lips, too slow, too steady to be entirely natural. Here before him stands an opening, explanations perhaps, willingly given (as far as he can tell). It's tempting, for it seems to simple, so perfect. This woman is asking nothing of him, merely offering her help. Help, that, if Danil is being honest with himself, he very much needs.

He licks his lips, and then nods, slowly. "Thank you." Just a bare pause and then slightly helplessly, "I just feel so lost. I'm sure...I'm sure there's other fae here," He stumbles only slightly over the word, "But I don't even know how to find them, not really if I wanted to."

Her look to him is sympathetic, understanding how confusing it is when just-- thrown into this situation without knowing it until that fateful day. She hopes she can lessen the confusion with giving some insight to what he need.

Which, at the moment, seems to be about finding others just to know they're out there somewhere.

"Fae you say? I take it you're... you're young." She knows the terms for the fae -- Seelie, Unseelie, chanegling and such -- but she can't tell right off the bat who he is and maybe it's best to not make assumptions now. "I don't know many fae myself, personally, but I do know there are out there. They've been quiet busy the last few weeks in the city.

"If you need information, you could always go to Redbright Institute and ask around there. Think of it as a haven of sorts for those in need when they're like you or others." With powers and questions, with confusion and potential.

[[ooc: Hey, you're not on my plurk timeline so I figured I'd let you know here that I'm dropping Danil. Thank you so much for threading with me (I was really enjoying it, honestly) and sorry for my extreme flakiness. happy writing c:]]

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oh dear; oh dear (open post)

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sorry! i thought i tagged this some time ago!

no worries!

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god I'm so sorry I've been so slow.

it's okay! hope you've been alright!

I've been fine thanks c: <3