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Posted: Fri Mar 10, 2017 8:44 am
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In the wake of the 2017 edition of the seasonal plague of Rider-Waite, Chester found his classes cancelled for today, as both of his professors were too ill to teach. Rather than head home or to the gym like he normally would have, the sunny weather pushed him toward the center of town instead. He might have preferred to use this time to search for otherworldly parts for his creations, but the otherworld hadn't seen fit to let him in today, so mundane items would have to do.
Following a bit of wandering, he turned down a shop-lined little alley, eerily similar to the one where he'd stumbled across a creepy fountain and a creepier creature sitting at its edge. Thankfully, he wasn't alone this time, and a handful of dogwalkers, elderly people, and other directionless students strolled or shuffled past while he peered in the window of an odd little pawn shop.
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 7:29 am
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And then he realized he didn't know her name. Or, more accurately, he had heard it before, he just couldn't recall it right now. Embarrassment warred with politeness, though the latter won out, especially in the face of hers. Chester nodded.
"I'm doing well. Things have changed, but nothing too drastic, at least for me. I have a home, I go to school, you know, boring normalcy." Still no job, but he was working on that.
He paused, glancing between the girl and her bird. She could hear him. Of course. It explained a lot.
"Mr. Bitterberry is... most welcome... America." Yesssssssss. Name: remembered. "The two of you can speak to each other? Is it rude to ask how that happened?" Regardless of whether her reply would be terse or wordy, they remained awkwardly standing in the middle of what amounted to a sidewalk. "Are you in a hurry? We can walk if you have somewhere to be."
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 11:22 am
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"I'm a warg," the girl explained cheerfully. "It can happen a couple ways, far as I know."
There was a bench around the corner and a good hour of free time ahead of her, so America happily settled in next to Chester to explain the rest. "It can start happening without a person understanding it, so the more people who know about it, the better." The bluejay hopped from her shoulder to the back of the bench, slowly hopping its way toward Chester in order to inspect him.
"The jist of it is that either a magical person picks an animal to form a bond with, or the animal sorta picks a magical person and the bond develops from there. It's possible, I'm pretty sure, for both to maybe do it unconsciously too, like two paths kinda line up just right and connect."
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 6:48 pm
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America laughed, "You're not wrong, in a way. For me it was a surprise, I thought I might have like a tumor or something 'til a friend reassured me. My sight went all crazy, different perspectives, different colors. For weeks! But once I met up with Mr. B, I stopped borrowing eyes on accident, started being able to control that. Folks who decide to bond an animal, though, they've got a lot more control from the start." Her eyes scrunched up with her smile. "I named him, but he likes it a bunch, especially the mister part, 'cause it feels important, you know?"
The jay in question delicately nibbled on Chester's collar after deciding he was a Big Terrible. "Bond's pretty much forever, losing him would..." the smile dimmed a bit, "...it'd do a number on me. But even though he's great at finding dangerous stuff, he's even better at getting away from it."
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Posted: Sun Mar 26, 2017 8:46 am
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His closest pockets contained a mini golf pencil, a tiny screwdriver originally intended for repairing glasses, and a broken silver chain with a tarnished BFF charm hanging from it. The ones at waist height held even greater treasure: house keys, loose change, and a large plastic, metal, and resin insect made from the springs found inside click pens and a bunch of those old-fashioned blood donor pins layered in scales across its back.
"That's... well, this is all a surprisingly sweet side of the magic that so often seems bent on killing us." Chester laughed, still very aware of the bluejay examination he was undergoing. Besides causing mischief worthy of a sticom, he could think of no innocent purpose for animal spies or the might of people who could turn into creatures like Oliver could, which probably meant they really were supposed to fight at some point. Or, at least, the others were. He could tinker with useless junk and create (probably) unbreakable ciphers, and while that seemed helpful on paper, it was nothing compared to a girl who could see through the eyes of a bird.
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