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In Need of Entertainment (PG-13); open
Topic Started: Aug 26 2009, 04:41 PM (131 Views)
Killian Vidal
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Killian stifled a yawn as he pushed his way through a large set of doors. Life had been rather droll lately. The mundanes were finking around as always but there wasn't anything going on within the magical community; at least not that he'd heard. He was restless. He wanted to do something, anything.

Shoes clicking against the marble floor, Killian walk through a large entry way. The place was so quiet that it was all the sound you could hear, the clicking of soles on marble. The rhythmic sound was annoying.

Pushing through another door, Killian entered a large sitting room. It was filled with large chairs and couches. Expensive carpets covered the floor and large tables took up most of the left over space. It was a common relaxing area for some of the Nobles.

"Yo, anyone here?" He called out as he looked around. He was slowly losing his mind here.
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Morgan Urrabazo
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Begrudgingly Seelie

The sun flashed off the sword as it spun in the air, reflecting its light onto the side of the large castle wall. To anyone mundane eye that walked by, it would just look like an old warehouse, long abandoned and worn by the years but to Morgan it almost shone. Tall and elegant, intimidating in its structure but grander than any other castle she had seen, in books or movies. It never got old, feeling almost sorry for those members of the court that lived here or near here that it might lose some of that impressiveness.

Morgan didn't make it up here often, choosing to remain in the Bronx where she could help the Lords and Ladies of the area keep some semblance of peace. It was what had brought her to the Court to begin with, this need for justice. There were too many driveby's, too many innocent people hurt... this was her way to come down on them, her hand closing in on the blade as it landed in her palm, two long and thin gashes instantly oozing her blood out onto it.

For a moment, she only watched it. It stung like crap but it was almost pretty in a way, how the crimson ran along the polished sword surface. She had been practicing the move for a few weeks, sometimes timing it right and sometimes not. It was still cool enough to keep trying, though, if she could just get it right.

Her smile disappeared, though, the shine of her sword slowly being replaced by the dull brown of the stick from which she had dreamed it up. A look over her shoulder and she saw the car approaching, shaking her head at the absolute lack of glamour a person must have to draw hers away from that distance. It was far past sad... it was disgusting, the blade now just wood as she tossed it to the ground and walked into the castle doors.

Morgan's hand reached back, pulling her hair from its ponytail and letting it fall down her back now that she was done with her practice for the day. She would need a shower before she headed home, keep her grandparents from asking questions on how she had got so dirty, streaks of dirt across her face and arms from the fight. A sit would be nice, though, and she chose to make that her first priority taking the first door. "Yo?" She questioned with a smirk, dropping herself into a chair. "I am way overdressed if we suddenly went back in time to '91."

A pack of cigarettes had been abandoned on the table next to her, Morgan looking around slowly before pulling one from its pack and starting to examine her hand. It was still bleeding, closing a fist tight around it. Though the magic had left the sword, turning it back into an ordinary stick, the cuts still remain, if only for the fact that Morgan believed wholeheartedly that they were real. "You know what I'm missing? My Hammer pants. You have given me an excuse... bravo, good sir."
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Killian Vidal
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Killian looked at Morgan with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Those kill people, you know." He commented as he grabbed one too. He normally didn't smoke but it just seemed appropriate for some reason. "And maybe you could use those large pants to wrap up your hand." He motioned to hand. There was some crusted blood on the back of her hand.

Killian dropped himself into a large chair and quickly propped his feet up on a foot rest. He stared at Morgan, taking in her appearance. They looked like complete opposites. He was cleanly dressed and she just looked plain scruffy. To each their own, he guessed. "What brings you all the way up here anyways?" He asked, rolling the cigarette between his forefinger and middle finger. He could only assume things had to be bland for her to end up in Boston. The New York Fae normally didn't make their way up here for a day trip.

Sighing, Killian pulled his feet off the foot rest and he pulled his shoes off and tossed them over the chair. He stretched out his toes. The school uniforms didn't bother him nearly as much as the shoes they were forced to wear. If he could get away with it, he'd drop out and live away from the mundane completely. The whole facade of being normal was stupid to him. They were special; why couldn't they just concentrate on that? But no, he went home to his Aunt and Uncle's home every night and slept through classes all day. Escaping it all was the only part of his life that mattered to him.

Restless, he flipped the cigarette back and forth through his fingers before turning it into a small dagger. He spun it down into his hand and held it up to his face, closing one eye. And then it was gone. Killian frowned as he sulkily threw the cigarette across the room in protest. "The lack of glamour around here is driving me insane!" He moaned as he pushed himself out of the chair and sat Indian style in front of Morgan on a table. "How are you all doing in New York? I'm thinking of taking a trip down there..." Killian stared off dreamily. There were so many things to do and not enough glamour to do them with. He really had to get out of this area. No wonder people had been avoiding this place for awhile. Or maybe it was just him. He wasn't that old yet, was he?
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Morgan Urrabazo
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Begrudgingly Seelie

She watched for a moment, the graphic beauty of her blood as it traced the lines in her hands, before letting it shut again. Morgan would find a courtier or someone here in a bit that could fix her up. Maybe Swallows was about, it would take no time for the female fae to pull her skin back together. For now, she gripped tight to her black t-shirt, letting the blood soak into it as she slipped the cigarette into her mouth and without even a motion from Morgan had it lit, a small smile crossing her face at the control over her powers.

It had become her latest project, her latest goal. Morgan's power lay in the control of the heat around her. She could draw it from her environment, store it there for some time... and she could release it back, as she had with the cigarette.

It was an undisciplined side of her magic, though, at the very best, the release. Would it come out in a measured amount, under extreme concentration, as she had managed it right then? Or would it come out in a raging fire, all at once, completely out of control and destroying it everything it touched? She had to get it down to an art, grateful for every successful attempt at control over it. Much better than her years of holding the fire inside her until safe away... that was the way she had done it since her chrysalis until only recently, when one of the more experienced knights had suggested there was a chance at controlling it at all.

"Practice. Sir Meadows said I couldn't beat him in a sword fight, I couldn't just sit back after that." Of course, she had lost in the end, Sir Meadows having been training with the sword since before she had even crossed path with the court for the first time, but Killian didn't have to know that. "He cheated and went all ninja on me in the end, though. It was close, though..." ...She had been murdered by the older knight...

Her mind had long wandered, relaxing in her seat and blowing smoke into the air... Morgan swore one of the clouds looked like a rabbit... Killian's comment had her eyes moving back to him. She tested it, trying to feel some difference... the glamour felt high in the room, though, and easily used. And yet, she had seen it fail for him with her own eyes. Jumping to her feet, she took a few steps back away from him. If the world was getting to him, if his fae was dying, it was certainly not taking hers with it. "We're good. You should come on down, I'll get someone to give you a tour or something. Mmm... there's this park on Staten Island, FULL of crazy homeless people. Definitely put that on your list." If there was one thing crazy people meant, it was glamour. Lots of glamour, flowing through the air and plants and everywhere.

"I went down there last weekend, we had this whole pirate theme... it was sweet."
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Killian Vidal
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Why was she fine and he was not? It hadn't been like this before. His age was starting to get to him even though he was no where near the end. It was all in his head. It had to be all in his head. Maybe she was stealing all the glamour even... Yes, that would be more acceptable then thinking their was actually something wrong with him. He muttered something about too many non-believers around them more and more lately but it was a failing attempt at redemption.

He smirked at her comment of homeless people and pirates. "Did you get to poke at the homeless with swords?" He asked with a smile. The idea of running around a park at night dressed up as a pirate while terrorizing the locals seemed like some real fun. He was hard for him, sometimes, to remember that no everyone else seemed to be as prone to harassing the mundane. They were special, mundane were nor, and therefore why not have a little fun?

Sighing, Killian closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before scrunching up his nose. His body contorted and suddenly his size had diminished. He opened his eyes and swung his tail back and forth from his place on the table. The room was brighter than before, his eyesight enhanced. His feline form was a sudden comfort. At least he wasn't completely doomed. It was how he escaped his family most of the time. They thought he was a cute stray when they did seem him. It made leaping from his room onto the ground, and climbing back in, much less of a hassle.

Letting out a small meow, Killian kicked the back of his ear with his leg. It felt good. Then, without warning, he was human, so to speak, again. He stretched his arms out over his head and smiled. "Fine, maybe I'm not doomed to death just yet." He mused happily.
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