[ It's like a kick in the stomach to wake up somewhere else. Last time, he could explain why it had happened. He brings his arm to rest on his forehead, closing his eyes as he lets himself think for a few moments. Gather his thoughts. He remembers pieces of things further back. A bomb. Viktor. The lab. Viktor. Ekko. The Hexcore. That place. Viktor. Mel. ...Viktor. That part of his memory seems to be in tact, but there's a gap between when he had sunk himself into his chair at the lab after speaking with Mel and when he woke up here. Had he spoken with someone? There is the lingering thought of making a wish. A selfish wish, if he thinks about it. Who did he speak that wish to? Who had brought him here? There's one name that comes to mind. If he's responsible, he's here.
He sucks in a breath, pulling himself to unsteady, reluctant legs. A shock of pain runs through his left leg - it's brief, but powerful enough that he grimaces and exhales sharply. He checks his person, noting the few supplies, which he opts against ingesting anything. He doesn't trust it. His gait has a slight limp as he walks, shifting about the garden looking for signs of life. He shouts. ]
You sent me back! Why am I here!
[ His voice is stern, but frustrated. His brows are furrowed -- and he repeats it. Calling out for someone to answer. ]
ii. club quartz
[ He must have been possessed, he thinks, to find himself here. The last place he wants to be is in a place with a lot of other people. It's not the thought of interacting with people, or them looking at him. It's the noise. The sound of chattering voices in his ears partnered with the ones in his head is forcing him to focus harder than he'd like on the matter at hand. He's ushered to a chair and handed a placard to fill out. Well, if he's going to be here, it would be smart to learn what he can. He fills it out quickly - answering the questions simply: ]
Name: Jayce Talis Age: 32 Preference: information sharing only About me: man of progress, inventor, metalworker, councilor
[ He keeps it in front of him. ]
Keeping it simple here is best. Let's talk.
iii. cleaning efforts
[ While he's never used a pickaxe before, he swings it and hits the crystal with confidence that he only really has when he works at the forge. He doesn't have any magical abilities or powers to contribute to such a thing, but he will put every ounce of strength into it. He keeps to himself for the most part. But it's the first time since he's arrived that he's seemed genuinely calm. Left to his own devices with something that reminds him of working with a hammer has given him time to settle down and just think with focus. The sound of those voices in the back of his mind seems to have quieted, too.
When they approach him with food and water, he accepts it, taking a brief break to eat and drink some water, when another working a pickaxe catches his attention so he shifts, moving to help. A small correction. ]
Shift your hands lower, towards the bottom of the handle.
iv. suspicious message / network
( un: talis )
To what end?
My partner's.
[ He doesn't even try and resist, he's too tired. ]
v. wildcard + notes
[ Open to wildcards, as well (including club quartz activities)! Hit me up agalio if you'd like to plot specifics. Please note his permissions. ]
Jayce Talis | arcane | new player/character
[ It's like a kick in the stomach to wake up somewhere else. Last time, he could explain why it had happened. He brings his arm to rest on his forehead, closing his eyes as he lets himself think for a few moments. Gather his thoughts. He remembers pieces of things further back. A bomb. Viktor. The lab. Viktor. Ekko. The Hexcore. That place. Viktor. Mel. ...Viktor. That part of his memory seems to be in tact, but there's a gap between when he had sunk himself into his chair at the lab after speaking with Mel and when he woke up here. Had he spoken with someone? There is the lingering thought of making a wish. A selfish wish, if he thinks about it. Who did he speak that wish to? Who had brought him here? There's one name that comes to mind. If he's responsible, he's here.
He sucks in a breath, pulling himself to unsteady, reluctant legs. A shock of pain runs through his left leg - it's brief, but powerful enough that he grimaces and exhales sharply. He checks his person, noting the few supplies, which he opts against ingesting anything. He doesn't trust it. His gait has a slight limp as he walks, shifting about the garden looking for signs of life. He shouts. ]
You sent me back! Why am I here!
[ His voice is stern, but frustrated. His brows are furrowed -- and he repeats it. Calling out for someone to answer. ]
ii. club quartz
[ He must have been possessed, he thinks, to find himself here. The last place he wants to be is in a place with a lot of other people. It's not the thought of interacting with people, or them looking at him. It's the noise. The sound of chattering voices in his ears partnered with the ones in his head is forcing him to focus harder than he'd like on the matter at hand. He's ushered to a chair and handed a placard to fill out. Well, if he's going to be here, it would be smart to learn what he can. He fills it out quickly - answering the questions simply: ]
Name: Jayce Talis
Age: 32
Preference: information sharing only
About me: man of progress, inventor, metalworker, councilor
[ He keeps it in front of him. ]
Keeping it simple here is best. Let's talk.
iii. cleaning efforts
[ While he's never used a pickaxe before, he swings it and hits the crystal with confidence that he only really has when he works at the forge. He doesn't have any magical abilities or powers to contribute to such a thing, but he will put every ounce of strength into it. He keeps to himself for the most part. But it's the first time since he's arrived that he's seemed genuinely calm. Left to his own devices with something that reminds him of working with a hammer has given him time to settle down and just think with focus. The sound of those voices in the back of his mind seems to have quieted, too.
When they approach him with food and water, he accepts it, taking a brief break to eat and drink some water, when another working a pickaxe catches his attention so he shifts, moving to help. A small correction. ]
Shift your hands lower, towards the bottom of the handle.
iv. suspicious message / network
( un: talis )
To what end?
My partner's.
[ He doesn't even try and resist, he's too tired. ]
v. wildcard + notes
[ Open to wildcards, as well (including club quartz activities)! Hit me up