Mage - The Spiral [IC]

[Fanog]

Cambridge Streets
Cambridge, England
October 2002, late evening

"Nah, get in. It's just a car..." As soon as Ty has shut the door, the man pushes the gas and lets the sports car zoom off. He seems to drive quite a bit faster than allowed.

The mention of a truck seems to strike a nerve with the young business man. Before Ty has the chance, the man has launched on a rant. He barely acknowledges where Ty has to go, but he seems to head in the right direction. "Ah yeah, I totally know what you mean. These truckers think that, just 'cause they earn their living through driving, they own the road. And then on the freeway, they just block both lanes with their snail's pace. Damnit, I worked hard for this car, and I want to use it." As if to give his words more meaning he pushes the gas down even deeper, sending the car forward with increased speed. Something about his demeanor gives Ty the impression that he can't really have worked all that hard to buy the vehicle.

"You know, I've got business to run, and meetings to catch. And then I'm stuck in another traffic jam, just because those stupid pigs won't let me through, lurking their smokes and listening radio in their cabins, refusing to let people with a hurry pass. Damn, they don't appreciate who's paying them! ...don't you say?"

OoC: Ty
_______________________

Gardens outside Devlin Hall, BC Fine Arts Department
Boston, Massachussets
late afternoon, October 2002

The old man takes generous looks about him as they walk and Jason thinks. He takes in all of the plants and trees that are in the gardens. As Jason tells him that he's willing to listen, the man takes a deep breath in through his nose, as if mentally preparing for what he's about to say.

"Mister Siddique, you are an exceptional man. The depth and breath of your emotions as you experience them is quite remarkable. What is more is that your talent and interest for art have allowed you to focus those emotions... That is what allows you to make such extraordinary works of art."

Jason doesn't miss the fact that those are a whole lot of superlatives, even though the man doesn't seem quite as impressed as his amount praise would indicate.

"However, this focussing of your emotions has its side effects. They draw the attention of certain entities, call them the embodiment of your emotions. Three months ago, they picked up on your feeling of animosity towards your family. Your channeling of this feeling called them, so to speak. They acted on your drawing, even though you did not wish that which you drew to actually happen..."

The man takes a look sideways, looking Jason in the eye. "I can help you to deal with your emotions and with the entities that are drawn to them - to you..."

OoC: Jason

 

[Keia]

On the Court, Pepsi Center
Denver, Colorado
October 2002

Leo headed over to the others on the team, ready for the ribbing he was certain to receive for blowing the layup. What kind of crap is "...you are close. Run up and down the mountain again, and then you will succeed..."? What's that supposed to mean? Leo thought.

All I know is that for the rest of the game, I'm only looking at the crowd with unfocused eyes. No way do I want to see that old man again, Leo thought. He continued to prepare himself to re-enter the game when the coach was ready for him.

 

[Fanog]

Taylor's townhouse
London, England
October 2002, around 9 PM

The man preceeds Taylor to the car, holding the rear door open for him. As Taylor gets in the car, he gets a closer look at the person sitting there. The man has a quite wirey frame, and is dressed in a pinstripe that makes him look even thinner. His light-colored eyes seem to dart and pierce, taking in everything going on around him.

"Well hello, Mister Willoughby." The man has an obviously American accent, the 'l'-sounds rolling thick from his tongue. "I am pleased that you could join me for a while."

Taylor can feel the door being closed to the side of him, the broad-shoudered man walking over to the driver's seat and getting in.

"Tell me," the man next to Taylor continues, "have you ever had the feeling that there is a bigger picture? That you could see something that those around you cannot? Have you ever noticed that they just live their lives according to the rules, going through the motions, while you have vision?" The rhythm of his speech is strong, leading up to the final word which he stresses even more, as if to impress the importance of the concept upon Taylor.

OoC: Taylor

 

[loxmyth]

Gardens outside Devlin Hall, BC Fine Arts Department
Boston, Massachussets
late afternoon, October 2002

Jason shakes his head in disbelief. "This is... it's just crazy. Do you know what you're saying?" He puts a fist to his temple, trying to quell the sudden migraine that's pounding in his brain. "You're trying to blame this whole fire thing on me. Or trying to get me committed to a hospital or something. Either way, I'm not liking it."

He starts to outpace the man, pulling ahead for a few moments before abruptly stopping and turning. His face was a mask of indecision. "My emotions? This doesn't make any sense! Entities? Are you high or something?" A sudden light of understanding appears in his eyes. "My parents! They must've sent you, right? Can't butt out of my life, so they send some new-age psychologist to come mess with my head. No thanks."

Once he's said his peace, Jason starts to cut through the park and off for a bar or something. There was a rancid taste in his mouth that he knew from experience only liquour could get out.

 

[Mickerus]

Charles looks over his shoulder at the girl for a moment. "Something? I guess that's a word for "it". Don't think I'd say it quite that way, myself. She's good; a lot better than she realises, I think. With a few more years, more experience with, you know, life, she could turn out better than... Well, that's not really important, I guess."

Turning back to the bartending cat, Charles thinks to himself for a moment, then shrugs and lights a cigarette.

"I suppose I could play a set myself, though. Don't know if I could resist the urge to turn the whole thing into a mini jam session. I was working on a song when, uh... when something happened. I think... I think it's stuck in my head, you know? Don't even know the tune yet, but apparently it's catchy as hell."

 

[Fanog]

On the Court, Pepsi Center
Denver, Colorado
October 2002

Leo returns to the bench, where he receives an encouraging pat from the coach. The rest of the team is pretty silent, not quite knowing how to react. His fall had looked pretty bad, they probably weren't sure whether this was something to harass him over.

Leo focusses on following the game, which is pretty exciting. Both teams are about equal in force today, causing the score to be rarely out of balance by more than a few points. He doesn't notice anything else that strikes him as odd, but the memory of his experience on he mountain keeps bugging him.

About halfway through the second period, the visitors seem to be getting the upper hand, taking an eight point lead. Leo hears the coach to his right. "Sykes, you're back in. Remember, we're only in pre-season. I'll expect a signal if you're not feeling well, I won't be pleased at seeing you take another of those dives again. Now, get in there."

OoC: Leo
_______________________

Gardens outside Devlin Hall, BC Fine Arts Department
Boston, Massachussets
late afternoon, October 2002

The man stops to listen to the struggling student before him. After Jason's outburst, the man's calm voice must be almost as agonizing as his words to the angry Jason.

"I can understand that this must be difficult for you no accept, but I am telling you the truth. No one sent me here, I will teach you for your own benefit."

As Jason storms off, he hears the last of the man's words. He doesn't seem to follow, at least. "Mister Siddique, you can not out-run or out-drink them... Fleeing in fantasy will only bring them closer. I will be here when you want to speak to me again."

OoC: Jason

 

[Byrons_Ghost]

"Well..." Taylor says, "Dr. Franks, was it? I suppose I could say that all that is true. I have some... unusual ideas as to how the world might work. But I suppose it's natural for everyone to see themselves as the center of the world. The human condition, I suppose...."

Taylor leans back, relaxing somewhat. "Well, solipsism aside, I'm sure that you're leading up to something. What do you have in mind?"

 

[Fanog]

Sitting on the bed and only vaguely recognizing the tv in front of him, Charles has trouble trying to identify what is happening. Initially, it just seemed that he was remembering more of the dream that he just woke from, but the vision also seemed to stretch out now, growing as he writes.

"Oh, haven't you heard? She got her big break just yesterday. Got offered the chance and grabbed it both hands. Tonight was her 'goodbye' performance, sort of. I'm pretty proud of her, you know... - She just about started in here, my very bar, and now she's going out, making it for herself."

The cat sticks up one massive paw, waving the young woman over to him and Charles. "Come on, I'll introduce you to her. She might even help you on your way, now that she's got some connections." He looks back to her with an admiring look as she walks over to the bar, getting stopped occasionally by some of the locals, exchanging a few words with them now and then.

OoC: Charles

 

[Mickerus]

"Sure, I wouldn't mind meeting her at all. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say I already did..."

Charles leans back against the bar with his beer in hand and drinks as he watches the girl on her way over.

 

[Keia]

On the Court, Pepsi Center
Denver, Colorado
October 2002

Coach won't be pleased - heck, I won't be pleased either, Leo thought. Leo slapped hands with his teammates on the bench on his way to the scorer's table to check in. Leo limbered up waiting for the okay from the scorer's table and the referee, then joined the game.

Only me, the ball, my team, and the opponents - no crowd, no looking in the crowd. Concentrate on the game, let your natural God given abilities flow, Leo thought, pumping himself up. They've got no shot against me - I won't let them.