(2003) Fate Leads to Sacramento

[Star]

It's like junior high all over again.

Anima's new persona of the week is predator. Next week is Stoner. The week after that will be preppie. Pixel can't put together two sentences after giving speeches in Consilium because he's confronted with ovaries. Of course Shodan is still being desperately pedantic because he's somehow managed to grow up still thinking being right is the most important thing in any interaction.

Or maybe Anima has the right of it.

Maybe it's more like a pack of dogs when the food bowl is filled. The one's going crazy and trying to push their way to the front are the hungriest. The most desperate. It tracks.

No. No, please no. Don't let that thought stick.

But, no. Now it's in there and one of these days he's going to slip up and call Tyche 'Puppy Chow' or 'Purina' and make all of this look like the height of savoir-faire. Thanks a lot​, Anima.

"I like painting. Spray paint?" he mimed sweeping a hand holding a can. "Uh. Totally not graffiti."

I am Jack's uninvited and far from eloquent contribution.

[Campanella]

Campanella remains quiet, lingering like a ghost at the edge of the group. He finds a suitable pillar and props himself up, leaning on it as he observes the Consilium. His arms slowly cross.

The Moros eye's narrow as the Thyrsus Councillor arrives and just as quickly departs.

After watching surreptitiously, Campanella rolls his shoulders and adjusts his posture to get a better view.

[Briar Rose]

"Nah, I washed up, shouldn't have any paint on me. It's the bike. Mud keeps kicking up in this weather." a shrug, easy as you please. Eyes alight with the awkward word play. Was Herald a tittle that came with awesome speech making powers that evaporated when it wasn't speech making time?

or was it because he wasn't herald anymore?

Eyes roaming as Anima just leaves. Which is a thought that's still sitting at the back of her head. Two times she's been here, and two times has it been a loud cluster fuck. She didn't know if she wanted to stay, here, and here. Her dear cavalier corvid was one reason she even decided on Sacramento, and the River City was both disappointing while also living up to the rumours.

Her thoughts, stop as she laughs, tongue caught between her teeth as she smiles at Star's miming, "Yeah, yeah. Totally not spray paint. And graffiti. Nev-er." A snort.

[Pixel]

"Oils or acrylics, depending on circumstances." Pixel always liked oil painting the most. Something about the medium felt like standing next to the greats like Da Vinci or Rembrandt. College life, however, rarely offers chances for oils to dry in peace. So pencils.

"But oh man," The Councilor smiles as he hears Star and Rose, his eyes widening like an excited puppy. "Back in Balto we had Graffiti Alley where you could tag the walls and even the trash cans without trouble from the cops. Every few weeks the entire alleyway would be painted over with new stuff. It was pretty sick."

And something this particular magus clearly remembered tagging fondly.

[Phoenyx]

Art. Chatting. Benign things.

But then something is said that obviously rouses the statue-like Arrow from her passive state into something bordering on interested.

"You have a bike?" She asks Briar Rose with a hint of eagerness. "I do too. What kind do you ride?"

Turns out there are things that interest her besides magic and watching Arcane Duels.

[Tyche]

Tyche can't help, but smirk as Pixel suggests Briar's mud came from wrestling. Was he trying to flirt? His embarassment suggested as much.

A brow perks as Anima averts her question and hastily departs as quickly as he came.

Abacus at least spoke, but Tyche was getting the feeling her Councilor tended to stay in his own head. Lots of Enchanters did and, to the Guardian in her, that made him a little more of an unknown variable, but she'd talk to the others in time to learn more. For now the Enchanter pushed the thought away and turned her attention back to Shodan as he provided a very literal explanation.

"Just seem a little stiff is all," she admitted with a shrug, "You do you. I got time and I'd like to think I won't be hard to find in the Circle going forward."

Unless I need to stay hidden.

Winter stayed silent, which suited Tyche just fine. She could work with that. Other Guardians tended to be quiet, it's what their work demanded. However, for Tyche and other Emissaries, the work required more sociability. The other Orders didn't need to like them, but they needed to be approachable at the very least. That was the task of liasons.

Tyche's gaze caught Campanella's reaction to the departure of the 'predator', which prompted a glance to the Mystagogue. A slight curiosity hit the Enchanter's face.

There's a story there.

Looking to the continued discussion between Briar Rose and Pixel, but she didn't offer anything, even as Pheonyx spoke and broke her quiet observation. Instead, she took a page from Winter's book and just watched, although she had an admittedly brighter expression than her more stoic counterpart.

[Winter]

He doesn't have much interest in mingling with the crowd. He spots the lingering presence of the Moros, resting against a pillar, and so he decides to bother him instead.
"A lot more lively than it used to be. How are you faring?", he says. And it's not clear what he's exactly referring to.

[Campanella]

Campanella acknowledges Winter with a faint smile as he adjusts his posture again.

"Oh yes. Much more civil."

Monotone voice.

"I am... Recovering. Yes. Recovering - I thank you. How about yourself? Things have been bruising of late. I at least have been able to seal myself in the Athenaeum, but a don't believe that you have such an option."

The monotone eased into the Moros' regular speech patterns.

[Briar Rose]

Briar Rose sets her mind to the image, ever fleeting, ever changing, distillation of inspiration. "That would be something to see," She says to Pixel. "But oils or acrylics? Only paint or other mediums?"

To the Arrow who's speaking, the sudden spark of her interest, sudden, jarring, interesting. "My ride's old, rescued her from someone who wanted to junk her. Yamaha," she nods, "Can't miss her, has my art all over her."

[Abacus]

"Any luck with clay? Surely you'd have to wrestle with it as part of your curriculum at least once?"

He remembered Dana vaguely, if not somewhat fondly. Of his various university friends and acquaintances, she was the only artist. And there wasn't a single medium that kept her busy, but all of them. She often said it suffocated her, the thought of being just a painter or merely a digital designer. Pixel's seemingly infinite store of childish zeal made him wonder if he too felt like one medium was not enough to sate him creatively.