oo1: actual intro!

[cursedtolive]

[action - around town in the afternoon]
[There's a small little boy walking around town. A flat cap pulled down over his eyes, and a brown jacket even in the middle of July. His outfit choice looks a couple decades out of date, too, although the clothes are definitely from the right era. Fashion statement?

Seemingly lost in his thoughts, Czeslaw Meyer-Stanfield is not paying much attention to where he is going. He passes by houses, by shops, by people. He might accidentally bump into people, at which point he will blink the surprise away and smile sheepishly, with a natural-sounding]

Oh...! Oh, I'm sorry [mister, or miss]. I guess I wasn't watching where I was going. I didn't mean to run into you. Good afternoon!

[action - 459 Stone Street]
[Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope. He can't handle this family arrangement. His "mother" won't let him hole up in his room, though, so he's sitting in a chair in the corner of the front room watching the door so he'll never be surprised by his "father"'s homecoming.]

Comments

[encored]

You just missed one, actually. A carnival was just in town and some of those who entered the funhouse were trapped in some sort of alternate dimension without edible food or clean water for several days. Not many people made it out alive, but everyone there was rewarded regardless of their survival. [talk about skimming over and downplaying horrible situations.]

[cursedtolive]

With no edible food or clean water? What happened to the people who didn't survive?

[encored]

They remained dead for the duration of our stay, but they should all be back now, unless any of them became droned along the way.

[cursedtolive]

[Czeslaw's expression twists into that of disbelief.] "Back"? The dead... come back?

[encored]

Yes, yes. If you weren't used to it before, you'll get used to it quickly. It's a fairly common occurrence, given how often the town enjoys killing us off.

[cursedtolive]

Oh... yeah, that's right. [That's right. People come back, here, by default. Claire had said so, hadn't he?]

Did a lot of people get mixed up in that?

[encored]

[he looks vaguely amused for a second, since it's pretty funny to be living in a place where "people die a lot" is met with "oh right".]

The carnival, you mean? A fair number of us seemed to be present at the time, but there are other instances in which even more people were transported to towns outside of this one.

[cursedtolive]

I see. Thank you for telling me, sir. [He shows a cheerful smile.]

Oh, I think I forgot to introduce myself. My name's... Czeslaw. It's nice to meet you.

[encored]

Think nothing of it. You would have found out eventually one way or another. [a small shrug, and he inclines his head shortly after in reply to the introduction.]

The same to you. My name is Charles.

[cursedtolive]

Charles. Can I call you Mr. Charles?

[encored]

Just Charles is fine, but I don't care if you would rather use a title.

[cursedtolive]

I think I'll go with Mr. Charles. You're older than me, right?

[encored]

Most likely. [he gives a noncommittal shrug] How old are you?

[cursedtolive]

I'm [two hundred thirty-one] ten years old, sir.

[encored]

[wow he actually is older, then! but he's certainly better at acting ten than Charles is at acting twelve, so he's none the wiser.]

That's the lowest number I've heard in a while. You won't find many others around that age here. Actually, I can only think of one off of the top of my head, and it's better to avoid him.

[cursedtolive]

Huh? Why's that, Mr. Charles?

[encored]

Because he's so annoying that it's devastating, and if he latches onto you you'll never be able to escape.

[cursedtolive]

Um... is that so? [a pause] Has he done that to you, then, Mr. Charles?

[encored]

Yes, he has, and it's far too late for me to do anything about it. Consider this a life-saving tip from one strange to another: avoid one Cain Knightlord.

[cursedtolive]

Oh, all right, then. Thank you for the advice, Mr. Charles.

[encored]

You're quite welcome. You'll be unfortunate enough to attend school with him, so you might as well get a fair warning.

[cursedtolive]

School? [... O-oh. Right. Those things.]

Well, what's he look like?

[encored]

School, yes. You could look at it yourself if you've not seen it yet. [a gesture in the direction of the school. he then holds his hand a little below his chin. he's pretty shrimpy himself, sadly...]

He's about this tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. Constantly smiling, as well. He's small for his age but he's difficult to miss.

[cursedtolive]

[He follows the finger, then nods.] I'll go take a look later! Do you go to school too, Mr. Charles?

[If so, he'll talk to this boy a little more, Czes thinks. There's no real need to be nervous... he just has to be cautious about who he meets. If he and this Charles end up becoming more than one-time acquaintances, he'll try to drop the title.]

[encored]

[a little nod is given, though his expression sours momentarily. school. just about the last place he wants to be on any given day. he's not really one for learning the same things he had learned decades ago in condensed Mayfieldified format.]

I do, on occasion. It's a requirement to attend at least once every three days to avoid being droned, but as long as you're in the building, it should be fine. I spend more time in the music room than the classroom.