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Post by King Atlas on Dec 17, 2015 0:30:47 GMT
 He had been given instructions to go to therapy. Namely, he'd been given instructions to start the therapy. It was some kind of team building excercise; tell each other stories and they'll come to respect and admire you and it'll create lasting bonds that encourages teamwork. Well, Atlas didn't really see the point to it. The beautiful thing about being King Atlas is that no one cares. No one asks you about who you are or what your story is or what things you did in life. You're too obscure compared to others running around like King Arthur and Gilgamesh, so everyone is happy to flock to them instead. Naturally, it's a pretty sweet deal. So, he sat in one of the fancier rooms of the apartments. Nice furniture, a fireplace, well lit, the works. He had taken the large couch by the fire for himself, freely lounging on it in his modern clothes. He'd come to prefer the bartender get up. He really did like it. Strewn around the room was all sorts of Christmas goodies. He'd gotten them because he figured that it'd be good and nice for everyone to have some nice goodies. Plus apparently Christmas was a time to be generous. But if anyone asked, he'd just say that Chaldea sent them because they thought it would be necessary for the team building excercise. With the goodies strewn around the room, Atlas lounging and relaxing on the fanciest couch there, all he really had to do was wait for the others to show up and let them spill their guts. Thankfully, he could keep quiet, let them talk, and just lounge on the couch. Maybe zone out a bit. Seemed like a pretty good way to pass the time.
tags: Merlin , Aìfe , La Maupin , topiltzin notes: gorram therapy |
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Post by Merlin on Dec 18, 2015 22:51:11 GMT
As a wise sorcerer once said, "A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to." So the reason for Merlin's tardiness was quite simple; He didn't mean to arrive yet. Or at least, it was best if that was what everyone believed. In reality, the ability to instantly move from one location to the next meant that you often became rather lax on keeping the time. When transportation times are cut out, you really only need to remember you have to be somewhere seconds before you're supposed to show up. So becoming lost in thought becomes almost a habit, and being remarkably late to any engagement nearly a ritual.
In this particular case, Merlin had become all to fascinated with a fancy water sample he had collected recently, and was so entranced with the study of the remarkable water; Or more accurately, of how thoroughly unremarkable it was. Although that was a story for another time. Now was the time for a different sort of story.
With a few words and a wave of his hand he found himself inside the room of the, ah... what had Chaldea called it? Group Therapy Session? Yes, that lovely activity. Although the effectiveness of such an activity might be questioned, the sorcerer loved any opportunity to tell stories, as it were. He'd made a bit of a name for himself mostly through his activities as a bard and a storyteller, after all. Showmanship was a passion of his, although to say he had remarkable skill at might be a stretch. He was a wizard before he was an actor, after all.
Glancing about, he realized only a single person had beaten him there. Which was rather disappointing, as he'd tried to be late to avoid waiting on people. It was much more entertaining to be waited for then to wait on others. A disappointed sigh left him, but there was not much to do about it now. Plopping himself down into one of the seats, he idly examined one of the nearby presents strewn across the floor.
"Ara ara, second one here? I must be losing my touch..."
Of course he meant his touch at being the last one to arrive, not the first, but that was for him to know and them to figure out for themselves.
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Post by La Maupin on Dec 24, 2015 1:13:03 GMT
Julie was fairly certain that she was supposed to be somewhere right about now. She wasn’t good at keeping track of that sort of thing when it didn’t involve a performance. And besides, there were so many interesting things in and around Chaldea. How could she be expected to ignore them in favor of something as banal as…storytelling?
…Actually, that did sound sort of amusing. Now that she thought back, she remembered that she’d actually agreed to this one. Signed up for it, in fact, because it had sounded like it would be better than simply zapping herself into some other time and slicing things up. So perhaps she wouldn’t miss it. She’d need to get something to eat first, but afterward she could make her way over at her own pace. Stars tend to be fashionably late, after all, and so they were likely expecting that she’d be the last to show if she showed herself at all.
--
Baguette in hand, she finally arrived at the designated apartment, at which point she threw open the door dramatically.
“Ah, friends!” She exclaimed. Then she sauntered into the room and plopped herself down into the first acceptable looking chair. There were sweets around the room that she imagined would pair well with her baguette. In the meantime, though, she looked around.
“Who are we waiting on?” She asked. Surely three people wasn’t enough for what they had planned.
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Post by Aìfe on Dec 24, 2015 2:21:15 GMT
Aoife stomped into the room without even bothering to open or close the door properly, in fact the door decided to accompany her as she entered, clinging to her hand like a small child to a parent, when walking along the side of the road. Shaking it off with a single gesture, Aoife stared into the room with an expression that kept drifting in between -just got up and am slightly grumpy- and -I will stuff you all with each other's intestines-. It was of course not clear, which of the options was along the lines of her true intentions, but most likely it was in fact a balance between the two. One thing was for sure, torture would ensue, in one form or another, for one person or another. Be it boredom, aggression, tastelessness, or just plain stupidity... she would manage to fulfill at least one of these negative criteria with the utmost glee.
Group sessions... therapy, what in the fucking blazes were these Chaldea kniggits thinking? She was perfectly fine! Angry perhaps but that was part of her -class-. She was supposed to be as angry and easily agitated as a pregnant hippo! It did not matter whether they liked it or not, it was just how it was and it was -their- fault she got summoned to begin with. Now they wanted to shut her in with a bunch of actual nutjobs with gods knew what kind of issues. For all she could tell the blonde guy had shrinked his dick and wanted it to grow back to par again, while the one in the middle had to deal with heavy nymphomania... what the woman had, no idea! Probably something related to nympho-dude. Herpes perhaps... ugh... best not think about it further.
Throwing both Merlin and Julie a disgusted glance, as her gaze switched between the two, she just heavily let herself fall down onto the couch Atlas was sitting on, letting one leg dangle over the armsupport, while she rested her back somewhere between lean and arm support, sitting on a punch of pillows. Her arms were simply spread from her body, lying awkwardly on the back of the couch. "Godfuckin-... let's just get this over with yeah? I have better things to do than to play around with a bunch of loonies, like you..." fighting down the urge to spit out when mentioning them, Aoife agitatedly scratched the knee of the leg dangling from the armrest, her expression as sour as sour could possibly go... this was all shit. She then turned to the other people again... "Whatcha lookin' at?!" she roared, her voice raspy, teeming with barely withheld rage. They been waiting on her or what? Stupid shits could have started without her for all she cared...
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Post by topiltzin on Jan 14, 2016 20:50:52 GMT
The sound of running desperately came thudding down the halls. To one who wasn't aware of his particular circumstances, it would plainly appear that the young-looking man were fleeing for his life. However, the matter wasn't nearly so grave...or at least, anyone but the man running would feel that way. When he eventually reaches the room, he swings the door open, gasping for breath as he tries to make up for the exertion.
"I...I apologize profusely...I do not know what allowed me to forget about the appointment..."
While the clerk who took his request to join the team-building exercise found his desire odd, pointing to his excellent management reports that indicated no issue with teamwork at all, such a lapse and failure spoke volumes to Ce Atl about how far he had yet to go. What if he should let down his fellow guardians of humanity at some pivotal point? What if he should encounter someone he couldn't get along with? Those troubles burned into him, the shame and regret of arriving late cowing him into submission.
"I...I didn't even have time to bring the cacao and cakes I wished too...I truly am a failure..." Mumbling to himself, he takes his seat with the group without further speech. Once he seated though, he continues to speak, voice laden with apology. "So...now that this foolish old man is finally here, I suppose we can begin? You don't appear to have started telling stories, so I assume you were polite enough to excuse my tardiness..."
The clock continued to tick. Topiltzin Ce Atl Quetzalcoatl arrived just before he was three minutes late.
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Post by King Atlas on Jan 14, 2016 22:04:07 GMT
So one by one, people started to appear. He found it rather amusing that the Magus of Flowers was here, complaining about how he must be losing his touch. Another was a painfully obvious French woman. Really, was the baguette even necessary? What in the world was she going to do with it anyway? Then there was this... who was this guy? Either way he was only a couple minutes late, why in the world was he freaking out so much? But the one that really bothered him was green haired bitch. How had he not made it explicitly clear that this was his couch? Now it was ruined and defiled. People like this woman were the reason that no one could have anything nice. So not even bothering to shoot her a glance, he wrapped his hand around the back of the couch and leaned his head back to try and relax. Through his hand he let a small amount of his magical power flow into the couch. It coursed through the frame, barely noticeable unless one had a very high aptitude in the arts of magic, so of course there were some that would undoubtedly see through the charade. The magic reached the area where the green haired woman was currently lounging, on his couch, and promptly detonated. It wasn't an explosion, but the frame cracked and splintered before finally breaking. Atlas found himself sliding for a moment towards the green haired woman's side as the couch was internally destroyed before righting himself. Namely, he started levitating in the same lounging position he had been. Without even bothering to look at the woman, he just sighed. "Great job, fatty. Can't have anything nice." He put out another sigh while he just kept on floating. That would teach her to steal his spot. It was his couch dammit, he was there first. "So who wants to start?"
tags: Merlin , Aìfe , La Maupin , topiltzin notes: gj aife |
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Post by Merlin on Jan 21, 2016 4:04:38 GMT
My my, what a crowd.
There were several faces in them that he recognized. Well all of them actually, but some he was more fond of than others. Not for any particular dislike of them, but it was easy for the Magus to get swept up in his own personal favoritism. The warrior woman, Aife, was crude and altogether obnoxious, but that had it's own charm in the right setting. Not this one of course, it was bloody obtuse, but Merlin wasn't one to complain. The blonde one, Atlas, he had no particular feelings on. He existed, that was for sure, but couldn't say much beyond that. And that he had a certain intention to poke the bear, as Merlin could easily detect the sabotage he preformed on the chair, to purposely agitate Aoife.
He could deal with the consequences of that particular agitation on his own.
He had a certain inkling for the other Caster, if only for his gentle spirit and the fact they shared a certain care of their craft. But he had to profess a certain favoritism for the french woman, Julie. She was the most dramatic of the bunch that's for sure, and Merlin had always had an odd relationship with the French. While he wouldn't go nearly so far as to say there was any emotional attachment between them, they'd been rather frequent... companions, since their first encounter during the Holiday festivities. She was a kindred spirit to the whimsical Magus, something he was in sore lack of in this life. Everybody was so serious and focused these days, they left little time for personal enjoyment, of the body and the mind. It's why he treasured the tiny opportunities such as these.
"Ah, I'll start us off then~"
The magus brought the attention of the room to himself. Deep inside the confines of his mind, a mask slipped on, the persona of the bard, the story teller, the wandering minstrel. Magic seeped through the room, subtle but effective in it's purpose. The lights seemed to dim around the edges of the room, as if centering the attention of the room itself on the magus. The sound of moving wind faintly resonated through the room, suddenly noticeable in it's amplified presence.
"A long, long time ago, in a country far, far away..."
He drew himself up, as fog billowed out from beneath him. It swirled up and around the floor of the room, covering the floor in a thick mist that made it near impossible to see the floor, but did not rise more than a foot into the air. It simply hovered, adding to ambiance Merlin attempted to impose on the room. Arms stretched forward, he continued.
"It was a dark and stormy night..."
Deciding he'd enough cliches to get them off to an anti-climactic start, the wizard gave only a sly grin before stretching one arm out towards Julie.
"And with that, I believe I'll pass it to the next person."
If anyone thought Merlin was going to take this quite seriously from the beginning, they were in for a very rude awakening.
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Post by La Maupin on Feb 3, 2016 5:58:44 GMT
Julie really did dislike second place, but she supposed she could deal with it, as she liked Merlin well enough. He’d proven entertaining on more than one occasion, which was to be expected of a wizard of his status. Based on all the books that she’d ever read about magic users, they either aged until they were old, grey, and senile or skipped over that phase entirely and stopped firmly on pleasantly odd, if morally stunted. He was the latter, and his oddities were a great source of fun…but she couldn’t help but be incredibly jealous of his ability to conjure ambiance. If she’d known that they were supposed to have brought their own special effects then she’d certainly have done so. But perhaps it was fairer like this – she was, after all, the only thespian. Props and effects might have made it all too simple.
A dark and stormy night, hm? Not terribly original, but it was nice and broad. Julie put a finger to her lips and thought, a wicked little smile forming as she did so.
“Our hero had already spent the better part of this darkest and stormiest of nights making merry at the local Hooters. Just as he finished his seventh Long Legged Long Island, he heard a sound just outside the window. A shriek!”
She leaned back, satisfied, and watched each of the remaining storytellers as if inviting them to join in whenever they felt themselves ready. As it was this story was already turning out to be quite unrealistic, though, as she doubted that anything truly dangerous had ever occurred in or around a Hooters. Granted, she’d had limited experience with the place, but what she had experienced had seemed very organized. Meticulous, even. It seemed that comfortable shoes were part of the uniform.
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