ｒｅｗｉｎｄ ⇇ closed

[chernobyl]

{{ SWEET c:
also, sorry for my bad post; it's late uvu
ＥＭＥＲＩＣ ＣＡＩＮ _____➸_____________➸________
the villainxxxxxxxxxxxxx tags: alaska

Emeric sat on the park bench, his crystalline eyes gazing up at Alaska who was freaking out over some piece of paper she had found. He sat with his legs crossed and one arm flung carelessly over the back of the bench; nonchalant and untroubled. The cool air ruffled his hair as he chuckled lightly. Alaska was cute when she was mad. "Chill out, what does it say?" he said lightly. He watched her angrily wad up the paper that she held tightly in her fist. Apparently, that letter had just "appeared" in her pocket. But even though it sounded utterly preposterous, he was a little more believing in the unexplained today due to the previous events of the day.
Emeric tried to seem completely unruffled on his exterior but couldn't stop from turning the bus crash over and over in his head, searching desperately for an explanation. That accident was something that would have caused incorrigible trauma to somebody else. But Emeric wasn't exactly ordinary. It all seemed to go by in a blur. One moment, he was riding in a near empty bus with Alaska, nothing abnormal. They were happily sitting on the bus with four other people. But in a split second, the bus was flying through the air and crashed on the ground, utterly totaled. But through all of the savage wreckage, all of the passengers had survived, seemingly unharmed. They were all taken to the hospital and all were quickly released, Emeric's only injury a bruised shin from tripping into a police car. From there, all of the survivors were violently hustled around as if they were celebrities. Only recently had he and Alaska been able to slip away from the commotion into this quiet park.
He was still amused from Alaska's outburst until he watched her gravely stare at something next to him. Following her gaze, he saw the pale envelope which sat innocently on the bench, threatening to fall through the cracks between the wood as the breeze gently nudged it over. His mouth made a "whaaa" motion as a confused look crossed his chiseled face. It was almost as if appeared...
He reached for the letter and turned the piece of paper over in his hands as if to look for a return address even though he knew there would be none. It was completely identical to the one that has found it's way into Alaska's pocket and when he tore it open with his thumb, the contents too, were similar. He scanned it with inquisitive eyes and quickly leaned forward as he read it.
You have thirty-one days left to live.
Your power: Telepathy.
Good luck.
"Woah, yeah. What does yours say?" he murmured as he read the words over and over again. Was this a joke? What could this mean?
He rested his elbows onto his knees and pondered the letter as he ran through his finger through his hair. Could he seriously have a... a power? Telepathy, that was like, mind control, right? And what did it mean by 31 days to live? Could it all be true or was someone just screwing with them? A wave of questions crashed trough his mind as he ripped his gaze away from the mysterious piece of life-changing paper and stared back at Alaska with wide, questioning eyes.

[rhiannon.]

tags: xander
mood: confused
power: plant manipulation
adventurous female

ＳＨＡＹ ＴＯＷＮＬＥＹ

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

luck? maybe. god's work? perhaps. strength? most likely not. whatever it was, this huge miracle of some sort was blowing shay's constant working mind. she was sitting home with xander, finally away from the hours of interrogation, doctor check ups and even an interview or two. finally home, relaxing with her other half. she lay on her bed, her head rested on his chest, hand intertwined with his. it was cool and bright in the room, and quiet. she was still taking in the whole situation. she looked straight ahead, thinking. the poor driver, he was a nice old man. she considered her luck; it was like a second chance. the single tear stained on her cheek reminded her of how much she still wanted to do, the pain her family and kin was now spared. it had to be a work of god. but did she believe in god at all? after this, just maybe. she stroked her messy hair with her free hand, as a gentle breeze blew through the open window, causing the sheer white curtains to lift into the air a bit. out of nowhere, shay felt a weird poke on her bum. at first, she thought it was just xander messing around. "not now, xan. please." she said, a bit frustrated, breaking the everlong silence. she looked back, expecting to find his hand and then a mischievous smile up on his face. however, what she found instead, was a creme envelope.

she furrowed her brows, and sat up on her elbow. she took the letter out of the back brim of her grey cotton shorts, and brought it to reading distance. she sat up completely now, leaning against the headboard next to xander. her curious spirit compelled her to open it right away. her thin fingers stuttered a moment, but she pressed on. she ripped the envelope open messily, and pulled out the thick piece of paper. she scanned it quickly, eager to read it. thirteen haunting letters read,
"you have thirty-one days left to live.
your power: plant manipulation
good luck."
she dropped the paper, and instantly covered her gaping mouth in disbelief. she tried to make out words, but they failed miserably. she looked over to xander. "did you.. did you get one, also? i.. don't understand." her words quivered, as if she were about to start crying again. and, she did. three tears fell in perfect sequence down her flushed cheeks, as she sit in a pit of confusion and misery.

{ god, this sucks. i'm sorry. ;-; i had a general idea of where i was going and then i just.. lost it. will get better~

[boat]

{{@chernobyl, yup, telepathy c:

↘___________________________________↙

♛ ♛ Ａｌａｓｋａ Ｒｅｉｌｌｙ♛ ♛

mood;; scared
tagged;; Emeric
location;; some park
power;; telekineses

↗___________________________________↖

Alaska glared meaningfully at the branches when Emeric told her to chill out. She knew she was overdramatizing it by a little, but it wasn't everyday that she survived a bus crash and then found a creepy letter afterwards. "Well it's going to take more than you telling me to chill out to calm my heart down." She replied, sitting up to look straight into his captivating eyes. She was still shaken by the letter. It came out of nowhere. Nowhere. She wasn't the best at science, but she knew that matter couldn't be created. "I just received a death threat, and the best you can do is tell me to calm down." She knew she was being a bit harsh, but she couldn't find the nicer words when she was freaking out inside. "You could have at least kissed me." She leaned in almost touching his nose with her own but pulled away before he could react, her eyes glittering with laughter. Alaska was about to recite the memorized letter when her eyes were drawn to the unoccupied space on the bench. It looked just like hers before she crumpled it up. She wasn't exactly surprised when it turned out to be the same message either. The only difference was that his "power" was telepathy.

Alaska leaned closer to get a better look at his letter. "It's almost the same as yours." She quickly smoothed out her letter as best as she could and compared it to his. "Telekineses and telepathy. Thirty-one days left to live." She mumbled under her breath. None of it could be true. But just yesterday, if she's seen the crash she had just been in, she wouldn't have believed anyone could have survived. Yet there she was with Emeric, alive and well. And she wasn't a zombie as far as she could tell. She returned Em's gaze with her own confused eyes. "It can't be possible, can it Em?" She asked quietly, wishing that he'd confirm it. She didn't want to die. No one did.

Alaska could feel the conversation taking a darker turn. She attempted to make a light of the letter they had both found. "So, powers hm? What every kid wants. A bit late now." She gave a weak laugh, but anyone could tell her heart wasn't really in it. "Oh! How about we try our 'powers' on each other?" She knew that nothing would happen, but they would get a good laugh from it. And what they needed right then was something to lift their moods. But if by some terrible chance that their powers did appear to be real? That could mean that their deaths in thirty-one days could be possible too. She shook her head. No. Never.

[malkav,]

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
xander quintin | sense manipulation | tagged: shayleen
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

The occurrences of that morning were still fresh in his mind, replaying over and over, his mind comparable to a DVD that kept replaying the same scene over and over because it was too damaged to do much else. Despite the fact that he was still taking breaths, still seeing the world in full color and hearing the sounds of the people that passed him, he wanted to erase the memory of the crash. Although obsessing over the scene probably wasn't the best thing to do, the teenager couldn't stop himself from wondering what could have happened if he'd done anything any differently. What would have happened if I had sit in a different seat with Shayleen? Would we have died? As likely as it was, it really wasn't helping his case to wonder such things. Xander knew he wouldn't be able to forget, but he was going to try his best to look at the situation in a positive light. That's what the therapist said to do, after all. For a while, the blonde searched for a different way to look at things. Well, he was alive, for one. Shayleen was, too. The weather was nice, that always helped things. It was the little things that Xander focused his attention on, and bit by bit, his attention turned from the crash to the subtle comforts in life that he was able to still enjoy.

At the time, he was laying in bed with Shayleen, finding comfort in the silence that filled the room; it was nice to be left to concentrate on picking himself up off the ground, metaphorically speaking. Not until Shayleen spoke did he snap out of his daze. Furrowing his brows, he looked up at the girl, giving her a questioning look. "What'd I do? he asked quietly, jumping when her hand went into his back pocket. Or, well, he thought it had, rather, until he found that it was just him becoming aware of a weight in his pocket (that's the best way to look at it, I'm not going to worry myself over other explanations for someone shoving something in my back pocket without actually being there). Slumping back onto the mattress, he closed his eyes, about to go back to daydreaming when he heard Shay's voice once again. Bringing himself to sit up all the way, he looked at the ripped envelope on the bed, then turned his eyes to Shay. As badly as he wanted to deny the possibility, he had to admit, it was convenient that he'd felt something in his pocket just before Shay had found the mysterious piece of paper. "I, uh, lemme check," slipping his hand into his pocket, he anxiously pulled out the small envelope that had suddenly been planted in his jeans pocket. A feeling of anxiety swept over him as he took a deep breath, opening the envelope gently and pulling the folded paper out.

You have thirty-one days left to live.
Your power: sense manipulation
Good luck.
Immediately, he knew something was wrong. This piece of paper wasn't there a few minutes ago. But before he could blame Shay for playing a prank, the poor girl started to cry. Worriedly, he wrapped his arms around the blonde, gently rubbing her back. "Hey, Shay, it's okay. Don't cry," his words came out quiet and gentle, even though he was just as upset about this as she was. Even though Xander was comforting her, he couldn't help but find himself getting caught up on this occurrence. Sense manipulation? Thirty-one days left? No, no, this is crazy.

((not the best, sorry. ;n; ))

[rhiannon.]

tags: xander
mood: boggled
power: plant manipulation
adventurous female

ＳＨＡＹ ＴＯＷＮＬＥＹ

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

shay turned her head up slightly, looking into xander's dark eyes. "what do you mean it's okay? xander, this is literally a letter telling us we're gonna die." she sniffled a little. she hated crying, it made her feel weak and silly. she sat up a bit more, leaning away from xander a bit; not out of anger, out of frustration and confusion. "i mean, is this some sort of joke? is this even possible?" she had endless questions now, but knew xander wouldn't be able to answer them all if any. she reached her hand over, and pushed his letter down to a height where she could read it. she leaned in a bit, the top of her head hanging below xander's chin. she read it and re-read over and over again, her green eyes scanning side to side. she leaned back, tears welling up again. she looked over to xander, and put the letter down. she leaned into him, and rested her head on the shoulder opposite her body, hugging him. she cried a little bit, but not too much. she wanted to sit there for a moment. she gathered herself, and sat back up. if this was real, there were so many things she needed to do in a month.

she looked over to him, a bit of a waiver in her voice, but it was fading. her cheeks were red and a bit flushed. she took a deep breath before beginning to speak. "well.. if this isn't a joke.." she began, "there's a lot of things we need to do. we have to complete bucket lists, we have things to see, places to go, food to eat, adventures that must be taken.. we need to take advantage of this." she said, assurance in her voice now. she crossed her legs and turned to face her boyfriend. "we have these powers, i suppose too now? maybe we should test it. i have plant manipulation apparently." she thought for a second, looking around. then, she spotted the small ivy plant across the room on her ivory bureau. she got up, and walked toward it. she picked up the plant, and returned to the bed where xander was. she sat down, and looked at him. she took another deep breath, and then lifted her hand. she aimed it at the ivy, and did nothing but merely focus, and the ivy began to grow in front of her. she jumped, and tossed the plant. it spilled onto the bed, dirt now on the white comforter. her green eyes were huge, gaping at what she had just done. she looked over to xander. "tr-try yours." she said and swallowed a bit. should she be scared or stoked? either way, this was weird.

[malkav,]

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄
xander quintin | sense manipulation | tagged: shayleen
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

I sorta realize that, Shay, he thought inwardly, trying to keep calm. Yes, that's exactly what it said. Not that Xander wanted to admit that. He couldn't let himself think of that or he'd start to panic. Instead of letting that fact swallow his consciousness and turn his already borderline mood dark, he turned to something--anything--else he could focus on. That something happened to be Shay, sitting next to him on the bed. While she wasn't in the best of moods from what Xander gathered, he couldn't be upset at her, saying that he wasn't in the best of mindsets himself.
Thirty-one days?
Sense manipulation?
His eyes were a bit distant as he stroked her hair gently, letting her cry as much or as little as she needed to; it was the least he could provide her with, the comfort she needed. Sunlight sifted into the room through the curtains, giving the room a homely lighting, but the atmosphere of the room was ruined by the tension coming from the couple. And as badly as Xander wanted to go back to laying down and relaxing in the peaceful room, he knew he had to focus on what was at hand, and that was addressing the letters that suddenly appeared out of what seemed like thin air. Pulling himself together, he turned his dark brown eyes to the letters on the bed as his partner spoke. Over and over, he scanned his eyes across the words on the page, the three phrases settling in his mind as if they were weighted. "That makes sense. We probably should do that. I mean, uh, what you said." When she brought up testing the 'powers,' he looked up at her, questioning in his eyes. Test it? How exactly would we trigger the powers, if they even existed..? Thankfully, though, she decided to try it first.

Involuntarily, his eyes widened in shock as the ivy began to flourish, the vines extending as if a fast-forward button had been pressed, causing its growth to happen in mere seconds. Xander personally didn't know whether he was amazed, shocked, scared, or a mixture of all three of the emotions. By this time, the poor male had no idea how he should be feeling. The crash was still fresh in his mind, and now...this was happening. It was all moving along far too quickly for Xander's taste. Still, when Shay suggested he attempt his own power, he decided it'd be best if he ventured into these new possibilities. Let's see. Sense. I think that's referring to the five senses. Taste, touch, sight, smell, and hearing. Okay. Even though he was pretty sure he had a grasp on what it meant, he wasn't quite sure how he'd manipulate the senses. Make them go away? Make things seem different to certain senses--like make a duck sound like it meows, or make a rock feel slippery even if it's dry as a bone? Questions swarmed his mind, and for a minute, all he did was stare with wide eyes at the dirt covering the comforter he was sitting on. Slowly, ever so slowly, he could feel his heart rate beginning to accelerate. Oh God no no no, he thought to himself, gripping tightly at his jeans and closing his eyes, not now not now. In a desperate attempt to stop himself from an anxiety attack, he countered every question his mind threw at him with a positive rebuttal. You're going crazy-- No, I'm not. You're going to die-- Even if I am, it's not now. Everything is going to go horribly wrong--. No, nothing is. This time around, it was Xander's turn to be emotional. Pulling his knees to his chest and disturbing the dirt scattered across the bed, he sort of hugged himself as he curled up on the bed, closing his eyes tightly. My name is Xander Quintin. I'm 18. I'm in the bedroom with my girlfriend. Her name is Shay. We aren't in danger. We aren't being hurt. We are just fine. Everything is fine. Going through simple facts like that always helped him calm down; remind himself that he was okay, that he wasn't changing into some weird, unknown creature that was on the brink of death: Xander Quintin. That's who he was.

After a good five minutes of sitting curled up in a ball, he found himself relaxed enough to look up and address Shay again. Giving her a shaken smile, he tentatively turned his eyes to the bed, thinking. He decided to use the dirt, to see if he could find anything. Grabbing a handful, he sifted through it with his fingers, feeling the slightly moist, grainy earth shifting between his fingers. The smell of the dirt became stronger when he was closer to the dirt, reminding him of what a garden would smell like if he were on his knees tending to the plants; the sight of the dark brown substance in his creamy white hand was all he focused on. What can I do? To test his 'power,' he decided to see if he could manipulate his touch. Focusing, he continued to feel the dirt with his fingers, trying to give undivided attention to the dirt. What now? Confusion set in as he stared intently at the dirt in his hands, furrowing his brows. "Shay, I actually have no idea what I'm supposed to do."

((I figured that he would be confused by such a vague description. Sorry if it's too long, or riddled with typos. unu ))

[rhiannon.]

tags: xander
mood: thinking
power: plant manipulation
adventurous female

ＳＨＡＹ ＴＯＷＮＬＥＹ

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Shay waited for Xander to chill out, then she breathed in lightly. "Okay? Okay." She looked up, rolling her eyes side to side -- this is what she did when she was thinking. She really had no idea either; it just came so naturally for her. "I mean.. When I tried, all I had to do was like, lift my hand." She wriggled her small toes a bit as light leaked into the room. Suddenly, she felt tired. Really tired. She ignored it, though. "So, you supposedly have sense manipulation. So.. Maybe just, uh.. Make me smell," her sentences were choppy and rambly, because she was thinking after speaking. "make me smell cinnamon." She had to think of something quickly, which still took her a moment; weird, considering all of the smells in the world. It only came to her when she was scanning the room and caught a glimpse of a Yankee Candle sitting on the bedside table. It was Pumpkin Spice scented, but she remembered that day and she had wanted Cinnamon; it came to mind every time she looked at it. Shay turned her gaze back to Xander. She looked into his dark eyes, raising her eyebrows a little. She melted a little bit, even after all this time. She really could never get enough of him and she felt lucky every day.
She extended her arms out, and grasped Xander's hands in her own. She clutched them lightly, then looked into his eyes. "Just focus, Xan. Maybe it's one of those weird things you can only activate when calm." She nodded, trying to give him motivation. She leaned in and planted a faint kiss on his nose, then leaned out again. She pulled her hands back in case he needed his. She sat and watched, waiting for the smell of cinnamon to arise in her nose. A small yawn escaped her mouth. She couldn't sleep; she had 31 days left to do everything she wanted to do. Sleep wasn't an option.
{ sorry for the crappy post. lost it at the end ;q;

[ωιитєяfℓу]

вαѕιℓ . нєяσ
ｂａｓｉｃ ｆａｃｔｓ
- eighteen
- male
- in a relationship
- controls fire
- tagged; aspen
- location; a small coffee shop
- word count; 631 words

☸☸
☸☸
☸☸
☸☸
☸☸
☸☸
☸☸
☸☸
☸☸
☸☸

ᴍᴏsᴛʟʏ ɪᴛ ɪs ʟᴏss ωʜɪᴄʜ

He couldn't help looking around the coffee shop, trying to see how everything was still the same after that morning. Well, his whole world had been rocked, and everyone still seemed to be continuing on, as if he didn't matter. The coffee shop was still the bright red that it had always been - he should know, he'd been coming here for at least the past year or so - and the little polished wooden tables were still bustling and full of people. The shop still sold the same crappy black coffee that he always ordered, even though he hated the bitter taste and knew that he'd probably fancy something with milk or honey in, and the pastries that were the real reason he came (they were to die for), and the servers were still as polite as ever.

Why doesn't everything stop? He wondered, fiddling with the napkin that his chocolate muffin still stood on, untouched. After dealing with his hysterical parents, cops, doctors, reporters, whomever, for most of the day, he should be eating his favourite delicacy from his favourite place, but still, there it sat, waiting for him to take a bite.

He couldn't.

He was still thinking about the awful crash. About the driver who hadn't made it out. About the other five passengers that had made it out without a scratch. What if he hadn't asked Aspen to come with him to drop something off at his sister's? What if they'd argued and missed the bus? What if they'd got an earlier bus? Then neither of them would have been on there and wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath...

They should have been dead.

He knew the statics, he knew the angles, and he knew what should have happened. They should have joined the poor driver, but...something happened to save them.

Miracles? They didn't exist. He wasn't religious. But something had stopped them from dying. He was almost certain. Or maybe he was just over exaggerating and over thinking and they were just lucky, having sat in the right space at the right time.

Basil glanced up at the beautiful girl across from him, watching her eyes for any sign of what she was feeling. Unsure if she was having the same internal debate as him, Basil tried to decide whether or not to bring up any of his confusion, before he dropped his head again and reached out over the table to slip his right hand into her left.

"Rosie... I'm sorry... This is all my fault." Basil managed to say, rubbing circles on her hand with his thumb, forehead creased as he tried to find the words that he hadn't been able to find all day. "If I hadn't have borrowed that stupid CD, then...then you wouldn't have been in the crash... And I know you weren't hurt... I just feel so..."

Noticing out of the corner of his eye that an envelope was tucked under his muffin, he stopped mid-sentence, knowing that it wasn't there before. Had...Had someone slipped by their table? No...Basil would have seen... He was certain of that... Was Aspen playing a joke on him? She...She wouldn't do that. He knew her too well.

Making sure that he used his left hand (so he could keep holding Aspen's hand over the table), Basil moved the muffin, before grabbing the envelope and carefully opening it one handed (he was left handed, after all).

After reading the letter, Basil felt as if the heavy paper was on fire, and it dropped heavily to the table with an audible 'thud'.

The thirteen words were imprinted into his brain. He didn't need to read it again.

"You have thirty-one days left to live.
Your power: Fire.
Good luck."

Thirty-one days left to live.

ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇs ᴜs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ωᴏʀᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs

{{ So I finished my post (finally)~ It's a little sucky, I couldn't think of a setting at all so I went for a coffee shop. Hopefully you can reply to this soon, Kale :3

And oo~ I really loved all you guys' posts! }}