sixthiterationlogs | Race in the end of the lights

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Race in the end of the lights

WHO: Jacob Frye
WHERE: Fountain, Inn, Bunker, Around
WHEN: 12/3, first part of the month
OPEN TO: Evie, OTA
WARNINGS: Will update if needed

FOUNTAIN ARRIVAL: LOCKED TO EVIE FRYE

Not even realizing that things have gone dark until the world tries to come into focus again. Waking up suddenly, gasping, and realizing the mistake in that the minute the water hits his throat, flooding his mouth. Eyes flying open, blinding, the world a mixture of light and dark, blurred and out of focus. The water pushes him open and instincts take over. Jacob kicks, surprised the weight of his coat isn't holding him down as he pushes hard for the light above.

Kicking hard, wondering how he'd come to be in such a body of water without knowledge of it. Surprised he's not bound, that he is free to try and find air at the surface rather than being weighted as he sinks to the bottom. Whoever tossed him in here is a fool, and he plans to find them and prove to them just how stupid they were.

Breaking the surface with a thick, watery gasp, still dragging water into his throat and lungs, choking as he lashes out blindly for a shore, for any edge where he might find purchase.

AROUND THE VILLAGE

Getting into dry scrubs, which at least he looks good in green, and having scrounged for a few options for both warmth and protection, Jacob finds himself in a pull on hoodie in an odd shade of red, not quite burgundy but heading that way. At least it's warm, and it's got a hood, though the combination with his scrub pants and his hands often in the pockets is that of street lout casing a convenience store to pick off some chocolate bars and maybe a bottle of ale if he's lucky.

From time to time throughout the day he visits the inn, because hello, it's an inn. Sadly there's no beer to be had, and that alone makes him sad. With all of this, Jacob could definitely use a pint. Strolling through the room, he finds himself drawn to some, casually dropping down into a chair near them, often striking up a conversation about how long they've been there. Or at least trying to.

It's not his first time in a new city, but it's definitely a downgrade from London, especially with the lack of rooftops and skyline. Not that it stops him, especially in the evening hours, from slipping up onto the roof of the inn, making his way from one rooftop to another, just for the desire to be there, the ingrained need for whatever view he might gain. Perching on a chimney here, a rooftop there, watching as darkness descends and brilliant stars light up the sky.

THAT'S NEW AND DANGEROUS

What's worse than a brash and cocky assassin with too much attitude and a lot of desires? One that has just learned that he's able to create fire with his hands. At least if they're going to steal his weapons - and someone will pay for that dammit - he's got something to defend himself with.

If he could figure out how to control it.

Sadly, the best he's done that isn't just sparks and more smoke than fire so far is light something on fire that he dragged down by the river. It now is a raging tower of fire, and it would seem Jacob is content to leave it as it is. Least it's warm, right?

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It's hard to miss the pillar of fire by the riverside. Shiro doesn't live far off, now, and after another evening spent scouring his newly acquired home and despising the solitude, he's drawn to it, a mild frown of interest in place.

"That's, uh, excessive," he goes with, coming to a stop an equidistant few yards between man and towering inferno.

"Is it controlled?"

His own fire powers made themselves apparent when, in a frustrated moment, he had nearly caused his wood burning stove to explode, only to then immediately contain and snuff the fire out. He can't start them from nothing, or pull any of the more elaborate tricks he'd seen people attempting, but he can feed them with a thought and extinguish them with a slightly more concentrated gesture.

The whole thing is insanity, even on his admittedly curved grading scale.

Edited 2018-12-04 09:08 (UTC)

"I was here first." For once. Bundled up as he might be, Zevran still prefers the vantage point provided by huddling on a roof and watching the hustle and bustle- such as it is. There isn't as much life and sound and movement in the village, winter's stillness creeping in little by little, but-

There is enough to earn observation. Zevran uncurls enough to be better seen, hair bound back, eartips visible, golden eyes bright with amusement. "Find your own roof, or make sharing worth my while."

Standing nearby as if he's just warning himself by a fire, rubbing his hands together and considering the fire with a critical eye. The hood of the odd jacket, a bit large for him so that he's fairly well swimming in it, is pulled up and over his head though the glare of the fire lights up his face within the shadows of the hood. Noticing another coming closer, though he doesn't say much or change his stance though his entire attention is on him the entire time.

Only turning his head when he's been spoken to, though his entire expression brightens, pushing the cap back to rest on the back of his head as he offers a smile.

"I certainly hope so but given I'm still figuring out just how I've managed to start a fire with little more than my mind and something for kindling, I haven't quite worked it all out. An interesting oddity, though I'm told it happens a bit? Finding yourself with mystical abilities?"

One he knows he shouldn't just be laying with like this, but he just can't help himself. It's a delight!

"A bit, as in, more than this time?" Shiro asks, voice hitching toward incredulity. Whatever bizarre experiment they're all trapped in, it has very strange boundaries.

"Great. All I've been able to do so far is make the fires bigger or put them out, actually. Haven't started any or made interesting shapes with them, the way a few people seem to be able to." Shiro walks a little closer, enough that the heat feels even across the front of him. He has to admit, it's nice.

Strolling casually along the peak of the roof, Jacob isn't expecting another to be up there. Not that it's all that usual there is another, all things considered. Not that he's aware how many are within the village who might seek a perch like this. So hearing a voice brings him to a stand still, balancing on the balls of his feet with his hands curling into fists at his side for a moment, prepared.

Then realizing he's not entirely being attacked, and the words sink in. As does the appearance of one from whom the words came.

"I certainly hadn't meant to invade," he offers, sounding sincere though it isn't quite an apology. "I was just passing through, though I'm curious what price I have to pay to stay."

"Well seeing as it is but a first offence, and a minor one at that?" Zevran uncurls further, lounging on his ankles, head tilted upward. It bares his throat somewhat, he knows, but it is as sure as sign as any that he means no trouble, that he holds no violent intent. "A story, a joke-"

A beat as he considers the angle of the man's jaw, the breadth of his shoulders. Zevran arches a brow, his own smile going wide and easy. "Or a kiss. One of the three."

There are worse ways, after all, to make a first impression.

That question gets a shrug and a twitch of eyebrows. "Good question, but I don't have many answers. My sister warned me about them, as did another. Kind of ooky spooky warnings, you know?" He waves his hands about with wiggling fingers for spooky. "But details are sparse."

Not that he's not just as curious. Especially if it comes with things like this.

"That so? Interesting. You can put this out then?" He asked, nodding at the blazing chair. "Though shapes seems fun. I just can start them. Can't much stop them though."

Which is really the story of Jacob Frye's life.

"This, uh," Shiro starts, tilting his head back as he takes in the sheer size of the flames licking up into the sky.

"...One way to find out," he says and takes a step back, frowning a little in concentration. They way it's felt, so far, is more like reaching into the air around the flames than the heat of them. It's not especially clear, more instinctual, but that's as close as he can come to articulating a method. The fire buffets the wind, though, unchecked and roiling, and his frown deepens and he raises his hand a little, fingers fanned outward, focus narrowing. He curls his hand around the air, turning his wrist slowly, like turning an airlock, and the pillar of flame narrows, spinning further upward in a slender vortex, before winking out into nothingness.

He lets out a breath, exertion sneaking up on him, and blinks a few times.

"...I guess I can."

Balanced carefully on the balls of his feet, Jacob slowly sank down into a crouch so that he's facing Zev on a much closer level rather than looming over him.

Canting his head, curious about another that takes to the rooftops.

A slow smile curves his lips at that, leaning forward toward Zev as he braces his hand against the rooftop. "Only one of them then? Really all you want?"

Definitely his sort, Zevran thought, admiring the fluid race with which the rooftop interloper settled in a more comfortable position. Considering the angle and the slope for but a moment- well. It wasn't the steepest incline upon which Zevran made a play.

And there was the faint thrill of danger that came with possibly toppling into the snow.

"Well-" He let his eyes linger on Jacob's lips for a moment before raising to his eyes once more. "I would hate to seem too greedy, but- if you are offering? Two of your choosing."

No matter how flirtatious- it was safest to leave people an out if they so wished it.

Connor hadn't made much time for free running since his arrival within the village, and when he did it was for a far more practical use - taking to the trees in order to reach a better vantage point or to get someone place to another quickly. The buildings in the actual village proper were much like those that might found within Boston or New York and proved to be little challenge.

He had been attempting to plot out the different routes which might be taken to reach point A - the house he now shared with Altair - to point B - the Inn, when he noticed another who had taken the rooftops, moving in much the same way as he did.

Interesting.

"You move well." Calling out to announce his presence, not wanting to disturb or distract, knowing that even a fall from this height could cause injury.

"What are you doing?! Put that out!"

Kat was holding a journal to her chest as she stared at the tower of flames. She didn't understand why people where getting the power to control fire but it was dangerous. The forest, their food, the village... it could all burn and it would mean their deaths in the process.

She wasn't imposing. Kat stood just above five feet tall and was wearing a dark green dress that was similar to a large form fitting hoodie. Her legs were covered in black leggings with sturdy boots on her feet. Bright emerald green eyes shifted between the fire and Jacob as she tried to figure out how they were going to put this out.

At first Jacob watches the fire, waiting, but as things change, his gaze lifts and watches Shiro instead. Studying him as he took control of the flames, drawing them down and back into control.

A brow arches as the fire vanishes, nothing left but a wisp of smoke and the charred ruins of what had once been a chair.

"Well, isn't that impressive," he says, moving to skirt around the burnt chair, offering his hand. "Jacob Frye, and I'm kind of new to this place. Is the ability to destroy the entire village with a thought common?"

At least then he'd know what he is up against.

"My sister never mentioned it, so I guess she should be glad I didn't burn down the house."

Given that more often than not the only person rooftop with him is his sister - though occasionally Greenie but those were not thoughts he was getting into for the time being - flirting upon the steepled peaks of the roof is relatively new to Jacob. Even if he ignores how relatively low to the ground they were. Not as if he'd even need a convenient cart of hay should something send them falling from that height.

"It's never greedy to take what's offered," he counters, crooking a finger at Zev to try and draw him closer. "A preference on your story, after I've had my kiss?"

As if it is his idea and not put to him in challenge.

Certainly one day, eventually, Jacob will use his skills for practical means. One would hope. For now though he is enjoying the new terrain, even if it's really kind of like a child's playground in so many ways. And he is definitely treating it as such.

Grabbing the top of a chimney and pulling himself up onto the bricks, Jacob pauses as he's called out too. Crouched, head canting as he pushed back the ratty hood of the discarded jacket he'd found in a room off the inn. With his youth and demeanor, it did little to make him looked like the knighted "kingpin" of a street gang that he is and made him look much more like some secondary school kid trying to graffiti the side of a shop.

It's a look that suits him.

Offering a grin, he touches two fingers to his temple in a salute. "Why thank you. Glad someone's noticed," he calls, pushing to stand, which will be the only time ever he has height on Connor. "Looking for something up here?"

Like he isn't just casually strolling along rooftops himself. So smooth.

Basically standing there, hands out as if warming them, Jacob spun about suddenly, wide eyed at the orders. For a moment he truly and wholly thought he'd been busted by Evie.

Why were women forever yelling at him like that?

"I'm playing with the ability the gods in their infinite wisdom saw fit to give to me," he says, trying to sound casual about it, as if he hasn't a goddamn idea what he's really doing, or how it happened. "Least I'm not doing it inside to attack weird little ice mice."

He pauses, not having said it out loud before, giving a small chuckle. "Well, isn't that cute of someone to make ice mice. I see."

Which is entirely distracting from the pyre behind him as if it were nothing.

"It's why I came down by the river to play though. Away from most people. There's water." He hasn't tried to diminish it and isn't sure he can, but isn't saying that.

"Takashi Shirogane," Shiro replies, shaking Jacob's hand firmly, not giving away how awkward it still feels to do so with the left, with a half wry smile. Keeping the empty right sleeves of his few articles of clothing rolled up and cuffed to about where the elbow would have been was as much an attempt to give other people a head's up as it was to remind himself, but the most basic activities and gestures still felt stilted or strange.

"Shiro is fine. I don't think it's normally something everyone can do. I hope not, anyway. Haven't been here that long, myself."

He looks at the charred out husk for a moment, before looking back at Jacob with a very slight squint.

"You got that much fire out of a chair."

"Hmm..." He leaned up and in, head canted to the side, watching Jacob through half lidded eyes. One hand peeled away from the frigid roof to settle against his shoulder, Zev happy to lean close enough to let them share breath. "Something dangerous. Something exciting."

Something of a warmer land- or at the very least? Something with more going on than the village.

"Something to heat the blood."

Peggy recalls this, though not precisely with fire. At the time, she'd had ice in her hands and Peggy's only grateful that she's not turning into a popsicle while everyone else is going warmer. That doesn't mean she isn't equally wary of someone that she doesn't recognize suddenly spouting fire from his fingers.

"Have you always been able to do that?" she asks warily, keeping a safe distance from him so she doesn't suddenly get torched.

Jacob you are literally currently standing on the exact same roof for exactly the same reason and you're still asking.

"I could ask you the same." Connor was currently dressed in a set of dark jeans and a red and black flannel that he had been lucky enough to find left behind in one of the empty houses. Along with the black coat that had been provided, he didn't exactly look like an assassin. Unless you counted the way the hood was pulled up to cover most of his face in much the same way as Jacob.

"I am used to traversing this way at home. It seemed as though the skill might be put to use here."

"Isn't that a mouthful, but Shiro is certainly a name to remember," he says, smiling playfully as he reaches up, pushing back the makeshift hood he's attached to the sweatshirt. "I wouldn't know. I'm new here and when I got here, found out I could do that. Though I heard some others have been doing it too."

So maybe it is a thing that's going around? He's not sure, but he's amused by being able to do it.

"I guess? It's all it was that I dragged out here. Figured out here is a better way of playing with it. Wonder how they manage to do shapes though," he says, considering the charred ruins with a curious look.

Despite the makeshift hood he wears, the look of delight on his face is likely still visible. Wide eyed and excited, obviously enjoying what he's learned he can do. Glancing up, his head cants slightly, giving Peggy a long look. Who can blame him? Some women are beautiful. Some have an air about them. Not many combine both, but she manages it well in his eye.

He turns to face her a bit more, taking a single step closer. "Never before. I suddenly come to drowning here though and..." He waves his hand at it. The fire withdraws a bit, and he startles not having done that before. "Well, that may be handy."

"Handy, or it may just burn down someone's home if you're not entirely careful," is her warning, not wanting to be dour and serious all the time, but it does hold some wisdom to be prudent. After all, she's been around long enough to know the damage that can be done.

"How long ago was that drowning?" she asks, thinking that if he's also new, then it seems that during her illness, she'd missed a lot from missing her shifts in the bunker.

"Yes but what happens when it gets out of your control? You can burn down the whole town and all of the food we've collected for winter." Her voice was sweat and her stature small but there was something in Kat's expression and the set of her shoulders that made it clear that she wasn't going to back down.

This was really dumb.

"Keep the fire smaller or we'll all die this winter." And she wasn't actually exaggerating.

"It's getting too big."

There was no room for argument in her voice.

He couldn't quite say what it was that made him look. There was no shadow cast, no particular flash that blocks out a moon, nothing special, but it felt like... it felt like he should. And when Nida had an impulse like that, he obeyed. Which meant he looked up in time to see a figure jump from one roof to another and he found himself smiling. Well, wasn't that familiar.

Until now he hadn't really considered doing such a thing, mostly because his own experience was in a more urban sort of jungle that Jacob would probably feel at comfort in that place. For now the challenge beckoned and so help him, Nida intended to meet it. For half a second he considered the side of the house Jacob was atop. Towns like this took more planning than he'd needed in the cities of his world, but then the was going. Within a few moments he was up a window frame, jumping to the jutting edge of the roof, and over it to stand easily and comfortably on the rooftop.

"Lovely evening," he observed as he strolled with quite a bit of comfort toward the stranger.

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Race in the end of the lights

New and Dangerous

Around the Village

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New & Dangerous

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New & Dangerous

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Around the Village