For years Ennui University has served as a prestigious establishment to train and monitor Gifted youth for their future careers. But sinister histories lurk behind the tailored training and education of Ennui's students, and outside forces, with their own radical agendas, seek to harness the fantastic powers of the Gifteds within. When all is said and done, who is worthy of your trust and will you being willing to lay down your future, your life, for their cause?
03.11.2014 -- Welcome, welcome, welcome! After working out all of the kinks, we are proud to announce that Ennui Uni is officially open! Please feel free to have a good look around and have a chitchat on the chatbox if you have any queries, we promise we don't bite! - teeth & kit
Post by Gordon Mercy on Dec 5, 2014 13:01:54 GMT 9.5
"there's a person he once was in a place far away. it's so cold in this country, october to may"
These days Gordon liked testing his weight on the snow banks; liked to put his right foot tentatively on the uneven slopes that his cane clicked against with questionable consistency. Once he was sure he'd got himself situated on the frozen top layer of snow, he'd kick off with his other foot and count the split-seconds until he crumpled forward through the darkness and sank into the cold.
Some days he'd let himself savor the sharpness and lie there like a deadman waiting to be discovered by a hapless, soon to be scarred, passer-by. Others he'd flounder against the snow, frantically trying to trash himself into up-rightness.
And others still he'd pause before letting himself fall, adjust his visor and scarf, and move away from the banks.
Sometimes it was just too much effort to feel that sorry for himself.
And since it had been one of those inherently exhausting mornings, Gordon had felt his way along the familiar sidewalks of "downtown" Ennui and ended up in the grocery store, running his gloved hand along the tops of the produce. There had been a swell of gloom in the people he'd passed coming into town but the store itself seemed a little pocket of the expected winter misery; mostly because the elderly couple that owned it had lived here too long to buckle emotionally under the dark skies and frigid mornings and partly because he was the only other person there.
Unless there's so kind of power masker here or...
He shook his head and raised the back of his left hand to his mouth, hiding a little smile. Now was neither the time nor place to entertain such analysis; the air was heavy enough with somber, sobering thoughts as was. He continued amongst the fruits, trying to locate any recent exotic imports-- Gordon always felt so young and shy when addressing the owners of Galley-- and he had just closed his fingers around some specimen he did not recognize when a new emotion glowed in his "peripherals".
The chime of the bell above the door and Gordon turned to face the new presence, though it was a futile gesture, and felt the blast of air that had followed the customer inside.
tags: n/a notes: gordon is sad :{ and goes on an adventure :/ music:HERE
Post by ADELAIDE ARCHER on Dec 19, 2014 11:42:57 GMT 9.5
Sleep had been a dilemma for Adelaide for a long time - since, though one would be hard pressed to get her to admit it, the Invasion of Orlando. She was luckier than the other people she served with during the last six months of her active service, true, but that wasn't saying much considering she'd watched most of them be killed in monstrous ways. Those memories skulked evilly in the back of her mind, rearing their heads to taunt her in the darkness that came before the dreaming. It was a struggle for her to find sleep's elusive embrace in the confines of her bed in the silence of the night, when her brain whirred, unsympathetic to its own need for that which it so willfully denied her.
Sleep, she found, came easiest when it was not sought, and was most easily coaxed with drink. She didn't pretend that she was proud of this dependency, even going so far as to keep it's existence entirely secret, but she always took to it with the vigor of a seasoned drunkard if she was not attentive to the nature of the addiction.
The morning light was still grey when she opened her eyes to it, awoken by the cold, wet nudge of a dog's muzzle in the crook of her arm. Booger tilted his head and flopped out his tongue gladly as she stirred, his tail flapping back and forth lazily. There were no noise coming from upstairs, indicating that the children were still asleep, or, at least, pretending to be. The first tentative column of golden sunlight peeked over the fence and into the darkened lounge room.
In the quietness, the symphony of house-sounds seemed amplified; the kitchen clock tick-tocked its weary beat in time with the electric hum of the refrigerator and the gentle chorus of birdsong from the woods that sidled right up against her back fence. Adelaide and her dog remained still for a moment to enjoy the tranquility, each watching the slowly widening sliver of light. But then Booger got bored, and nosed at Adelaide again and the moment was over.
Just in time for the dull throb of her last night's 'coaxing' decided to show up. She sat up, rubbing her face and letting her gaze wander upwards to the large whiteboard that hung on the wall in the lounge room. Printed on it, in large block letters of red ink, was the message:
NO MILK.
She looked back down at the dog, and groaned, long and hard-done by. Booger wagged his tail and licked her hand enthusiastically.
**
"Shit, it's cold out here!"
She was pretty sure she'd never get used to just how cold it got up in this town. Hot Rock, the town she'd grown up in, was a tiny frying pan of a place, wherein she had only one memory of rain from her childhood. The campus and surrounding town, on the other hand, always managed to surprise her with just how cold it got; though the day before had been, all things considered, a very mild sort of day, over night a thin crust of snow and ice had managed to draw itself over the town.
Booger didn't care. She'd decided to run down to the grocer's to get milk before the kids got up, and he was thrilled to be loping alongside her like a particularly enthusiastic sidecar. She lived fairly nearby downtown Ennui, about a half hours run there and back, but it felt like miles in the frigid sting of winter, despite the fact that she was layered up like a matryoshka. She was nearly there now, though, and she entertained the thought of the heated confines of the small grocery store to keep her motivated.
The dog was not impressed when she stooped to loop his leash around the bicycle rack outside the grocers. "It's alright, son. I won't be long-- don't look at me like that. When has it ever worked?"
She turned her back on the frustrated whine that came in reply, and ducked into the store. It was like a wall of warmth against the cold outside; she glanced back guiltily to look at Booger, who was gazing back at her mournfully. "Oh, damn it."
She turned away again, shaking her head in a self-chastising way. "Shouldn't have looked back. Ahhh-- Oh! Gordon. Good morning. I, uhh, didn't see you there. Ha ha ha..."
She always talked to herself at the most inopportune times. Fabulous.
Post by Gordon Mercy on Jan 2, 2015 11:47:28 GMT 9.5
"there's a person he once was in a place far away. it's so cold in this country, october to may"
In the split second it took for the woman to recognize him, Gordon had already registered the shift between blips of low-level guilt into a sunburst of embarrassment as Adelaide and dipped his head in greeting as her chagrin took form in a quick apology and nervous laughter. There was always a watermark of sorts on the emotions of others. A familiarity of the halo around the flares of warmth or the geometric shapes formed in implosions of jagged sadness.
He used to think of it like his own variation of facial recognition, but now it just served as his instinctive response to anyone and everyone. There was no real joy in seeing individual's most inner emotions, that had faded with the turn of years and the handshakes that had led him to Ennui.
He shook the sickly green vignette of his own pity from his thoughts and tried to focus on the world around him, swiping his cane along the ground to make sure his path to the woman was clear. Then he approached her with a curt nod.
Adelaide seemed slightly annoyed, her embarrassment downshifting into a different swirl of feeling. The happiness that came with recognition of an acquaintance? Or friend...? An undulating strip of chill shot through him. He liked Adelaide, she was an excellent employee and a valuable asset to Ennui, but, whenever he considered deeper relations with the people in his life, something in him always felt like he was standing on the edge of a gaping canyon: teetering on the edge of an endless darkness deeper than the one that swirled behind his eyes.
With a jolt of sticky bashfulness, Gordon realized he hadn't yet said anything to Adelaide.
"Hello, Adelaide," a pause, "What brings you out in this awful weather?"
tags:ADELAIDE ARCHERnotes: here comes the resident tulpa who works for me music:HERE
