[END] Sunrise

[Kolina]

Juniper Wilcox

It was such a beautiful array of colors. The sigil radiated the beautiful colors of the morning sun peeking over the horizon, but as quickly as they appeared the colors disappear. Juniper found herself wanting for the warmth of the light when faced with the strict cold darkness of black marble. Even the deep red of their blood did little to change the coldness of the stone. At movement, Juniper’s blue eyes shifted to Renard but she had little time to even think that she wanted to say anything before they were no longer surrounded by the void.

The forest was a very welcomed sight as were all the others there. It seemed that everyone had managed to make it out of the void and the door crew was just as well, if not better, than the rest of them. She vaguely wondered what they had done during all of that time while keeping the door open?

Then there was the one person who had initiated the whole adventure into the past. Seeing Sunny gave her hope that what they had done had actually been for the good. Maybe, Sunny was back to normal and able to continue living on as she had before. The lack of raging magic and her pale face though caused concern. Maybe they hadn’t done the other good? Again though, the world had other plans and no sooner had the thoughts swept across her mind that Sunny was gone. Like a whisper on the wind she was there one minute and gone the next. “Wait...did we?”

She glanced around at the others. “I really hope she’s ok.” She murmured softly.

A weariness began to settle into her. She was tired. Why wouldn’t she be? Even if she did get sleep at the hotel, she could hardly call it a restful slumber. There had been so much stress and anxiety over what they needed to find out and resolve. Now, with that weight gone, Juniper felt like she’d been pulled through the wringer and not even a weeks’ worth of sleep would make her feel better. At least she had her bed to look forward to, and cuddling with Star. Those two things were always helpful.

Oh wait...what day is it? Do I have to go to work? She wanted to cry at the thought but she had no idea how much time she had missed and if she was going to financially be in trouble because of it. If she even had a job to return to?

“I...I really hope that we managed to fix things for the better.” She said to no one and everyone at the same time. “For now though, I think I need to sleep.” She yawned and stretched, her 60’s clothing a mess and something she was looking forward to change out of. “Whatever we’ve changed I am sure it’ll be fine, right? Assuming everyone is alive and well. That’s all that really matters.”

With another glance at the group as if checking to make sure everyone was there and alive, Juniper smiled.

Yes, surely things would be alright in the end.

OOC Notes

People are free to assume Juniper gave them her phone number.

Post meta RP anyone? smile Please hit me up!

 

[cibarium]

a new gay a new start (leila)  

[Melancholies]

Shiloh Beaumont

The first thing that he noticed was the sun, bright and bleeding across the sky in an array of colors that he thought were, in his sleep deprived state, absolutely beautiful. Maybe that was due to being an artist, loving colors like that. Maybe it was because he missed his world. He didn't feel anything different—but he did in the same breath. This was their world, but it wasn't. There was a strange coppery taste on his tongue that reminded him distinctly of myrrh, despite not having the memory in his head to back up that sensation. Actually, he was pretty sure the two things were rather unrelated to one another, but it's all he had in his head to piece together. Magic—he could taste the magic, and it was strange. Subtle.

Because he could use his magic in Ashdown for a while after becoming a noble, so it honestly wasn't that unusual, but it was... he couldn't place it. People were coming to life around him.

He saw Sunny, standing there lifelessly. Her mouth gaped open, and then she was gone. There was no pounding in his head. There was no overt sense of everything like there had been at the start of this perplexing adventure. Everything had been Sunny. Everything was still Sunny, he was sure, but not in the way that it threatened to tear everything apart. But he could still taste the magic on his tongue and feel the flowers in his veins and, despite the face value concern, he felt like she was okay. She was magic, and magic wouldn't exist here without her, right?

He held onto that thought. Next: did they win?

What was winning?

He liked to think they succeeded, but as everything else caught up around him, he had to wonder. People were crying—no, sobbing—voices thick with pain that he couldn't describe. Why was that? Was it the sheer relief of being back in their world, or did they know something he didn't? Jamie was here, and Oliver was here, and the other familiar faces were here. They lived. They had all lived and the sun was rising on another day and everything felt okay; so why were they sobbing? Why were people panicked? Maybe his exhaustion numbed his anxiety and kept him calm.

Behind his eyes, he could still see the shifting colors of the sigil.

"Let's go home." his voice was thick with exhaustion when he spoke, tired in a far deeper sense of the word. It wasn't the sort of exhaustion that came without sleep, but came without security, came without any sort of calm. It was the stiffness that came after a prolonged burst of adrenaline. It was the uselessness that seeped in after being pushed to your limits and being left with nothing else.

Ollie nodded next to him, belatedly, delayed.

His mouth opened, words on the edge of his tongue, We can deal with this tomorrow— when he saw it. Looped around his wrist—innocuously—was a long thin thread that vanished into the distance. His eyes narrowed, his thoughts blurred, his heart felt heavy in the way that sickness took over an over-encumbered body. "Let's get you home." he changed the tune of his thoughts as he looked to Oliver, equally exhausted, mind wondering what he could possibly be thinking about in a time like this.

It was a new day, but it wasn't over yet.

saedusk

everyone/OOC notes

you can assume that Shiloh gave out his number!!! if you want it anyway

 

[Micillia]

Darcie O'Hare
Home?

Darcie blinked in the rays of the sun a few times. The world looked the same, as far as she could tell. Tho she had only really managed to get to a park bench and collapse onto it. Her mind was reeling. What had happened? It felt like some dream. A weird dream, where a group of people were deciding the fate of the world. Darcie shook her head, and was about to blame it on some crazy dream. She really should have learned by now not to read books right before bed. The girl looked down at herself, and froze once again. Her clothes were still that of the what she had managed to buy in the past, in that world back in 1923. Darcie let out a heavy sigh. She didn't want to have to believe that the weird events she had just been through were real. It was too much to take in, especially when she was here, back in the real world.

Darcie let out a sigh, and made her way back to where her apartment had been, at one point, who knew where it really was. But just as Darcie had pictured, there was her home. Complete with the stain on the cement right outside her door, where she had accidentally dropped an entire gallon of grape juice. Darcie stood right in front of the stain. Everything felt too normal after what she had been through. Finally, as Bruce, inside her apartment, barked at Darice to come inside, did the girl open the door and step into her apartment. Bruce attacked lovingly, leaving big slobbery kisses all over her ancient, 1920s styled clothes. She laughed, pushed the big great dane off herself, and went to her room to change. Darcie looked at the clothes from 1920 that she had just taken off. She folded them up and placed them in the back of her closet. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

Darcie, now clad in some soft and well loved pajama pants and a tank-top, collapsed onto the couch. Bruce cuddled up next to her, taking up more than half of the seating. Darcie patted his head as she listened to the drone of the television. She felt almost empty. After all that, and now it was just the regular world. The world she already knew and grew up in. As Darcie sat on the couch, feeling out of place, she felt a little tug at her mind. Something familiar, something comforting. Darcie fallowed the tug, and smiled. It was someone she knew, someone that made her feel less alone in this surreal world. "Hey" Darcie thought to Veronica's mind, and she snuggled down, feeling not so alone and out of place anymore.

quite uneventful

 

[Grey Dragon]

Kaleb Sullivan

Something had changed in the air. The slight chill carried a hint of moisture, like early morning dew, and it smelled like old leaves and green, growing things. At a distance there was a bird singing, undisturbed by the appearance of so many humans. Closer was the sound of something small scampering through dry leaves. It was these sounds of quiet nature that brought Kaleb back from the fear that had gripped him, the panic over the blood that had been drawn from his arm, and he swayed slightly as his tightly drawn muscles realized the strain they were under. The earth yielded slightly below the soles of his shoes as he shifted in place, the soft crunch unique to forest floor detritus.

Kaleb opened his eyes not to the dark nightmare, but the colours of the sunrise filtering through the trees.

In front of him, the others who had leapt into the void that night were also processing the situation. Not just the people he had met up with on the beach in the 1980s, but people he hadn't seen since the strange library where they were told of their task in the first place. Had they done what they had been made to do? Were things fixed?

The freckled teen clutched at the small wound on his arm with a white-knuckled grip, still not risking a glance at the place where he had been cut, his blind contribution to the ritual in that dark, still room. He didn't have enough knowledge of anything to understand how or why the others had done what they had done, or if it had been successful at all. Something about their reappearance in the forest suggested maybe they had been. The voices of the others seemed to carry with them some finality, and while some people dispersed, others formed clusters here and there with tired conversation about home, and the end, and other things heroes and heroines would talk about in the last few minutes of an epic adventure movie. It all felt so unreal, and threatened to send him back into that fearful panic.

Kaleb stepped back almost desperately, putting the thick trunk of an old oak in between himself and the lingering people. He couldn't bear the thought of being around anyone just yet. He wasn't ready to talk about what had gone on, or see the people he had been separated from, or those he had met through the journey, not while he was still trying to work through so much anxiety and confusion. He wanted solitude. He needed it more than anything.

Sinking down to the ground, he curled up in a tiny ball against the trunk of the tree and remained there long after the last of the voices had disappeared.

Quote:

Aaaah I hope this isn't too late. @_@

 

[cibarium]

difficult transition (eve)  

[Smerdle]

Chester Poole

It seemed very important not to blink, as if by staring at their sigil and the light that poured from it, he might learn all there was to know about power and possibility and everything else this void could teach. If he was still alive when the world stopped glowing, Chester silently vowed to work toward harnessing a little piece of it, to make greater strides than he had. He would seek out Gloom and Professor Mercer and whoever else might teach him something new. He would learn.

Chester finally gave in to blinking, doing so rapidly as the world reformed around him. His watering eyes were drawn to Sunny before all else. She was no longer a pulsating, dangerous thing, an outcome he considered favorable until a few seconds later when she ceased to be a thing at all. He wasn't sure that was what they'd had in mind, getting rid of a magical entity entirely just because she had lost control, but there was nothing to be done to rectify it now. People were gathering themselves, the world was no longer broken and wrong, and Chester wanted nothing more than to head home and fall into bed. Home.

He felt something pull at his heart, drawing him in the direction of town, and after only a moment's hesitation, he followed. The situations and people he left at the edge of the former hole would still be here tomorrow, and even if they weren't, even if they disappeared, it was likely he would as well.

Chester slid through Ashdown, a large, ginger ghost, and when he took the time to notice which way he was headed, he was surprised to find himself moving toward the new apartment rather than his childhood home. Even though the place was mostly his, he still had yet to properly move in. He wouldn't have associated this feeling with that place, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he no longer felt this way about his parents' house either. He supposed it was fitting, if odd.

So deep in thought was Chester that he failed to notice how much Ashdown itself had changed.

Eventually he made it home, and he was wholly surprised to find that even with all of the sand and migraines and puking, he had not misplaced his keys. Chester looked around for Preacher as he entered, wondering if she was attuned to this town's magic as well or if all she knew was what people like him brought to her attention.

He would have to ask. For now, he barely made it to his room before curling into his bare mattress and falling into a deep slumber.

finally  

[quite uneventful]

veronica villanueva

A glowing sunrise, then everything was suddenly piecing itself back together, slowly, but... They were back. And, most importantly, Sunny looked... back, she hoped. Back, but then-- She disappeared. She faded and shimmered with the sunlight, and then... She was gone. Everything was as it should've been. She blinked at the brightness, eyes used to the blackness of the void, and stumbled away from everyone before she could even register anything. She felt her insides curl into itself, memories coursing through her mind, fully confused.

What had even happened?

As Veronica stumbled through the woods, her hands clutched blindly at the trees around her. She dimly knew where she was going, but she wasn't entirely focused. The moment she stumbled into an area around her, somewhere... civilized... That was where she started feeling like herself again, building walls she'd learnt to build from a young age. She adjusted her outfit, walking quickly to her apartment, her hands shaking, insides meshing and curling. Up the elevator, down a hallway, and Veronica was home, home, home sweet home, where she belonged, somewhere far far away from that mess. She stumbled into her room, thankful no one was home before sinking to the floor and finally getting the chance to think.

...About what? What could she even do? She wasn't good at this. Her memory was chaos, and her thoughts weren't comprehensible. She wasn't good at taking things in stride or understanding too much, too fast. She needed to take it slow, analyze each section in different parts. Glancing at her now working phone, she saw it vibrate on her table before rubbing her eyes. Her hands slid to her temples. She needed to shower. Ignoring the phone, she grabbed a towel and walked into the bathroom, tossing it to the side and tossing her clothes to a corner. She turned the water to the near-hottest setting, letting it sink into her scalp, her skin, sear into her body and roll off her in attempt to heal herself.

She closed her eyes and thought.

Veronica had been pulled to the garden. A mystical creature known as Sunny was going rampant, and she spent days in the 1920s trying to find a solution, which led to her going to a magical hearing and... Everything went to chaos. She'd jumped into a chasm of black, drew a sigil, and spread her own blood upon it. Her hands suddenly felt dirty, and she hastily grabbed the soap and started scrubbing. The more she thought, the harder she scrubbed. In her mind, she felt dirty and not herself. At least she had home to return to.

The main door outside opened, and Veronica looked up, eyes wide. "Hello?" She asked, searching for a familiar voice, maybe her grandma or her mother, or her father or her siblings. A chorus of two voices bounced off each other before stopping in front of the door before two knocks rung out. "Vero, izzat you?" She heard, the younger twin brother seeming a little confused. "Didn't you have uni today?" She smiled into the water, mouth spread softly, eyes closed. "I wasn't feeling too good. GIRL pains." She said, then heard two loud ewwww's ring out from outside. "We did not need to know that! Just, ew. Get out. We brought do~nuts." She giggled, relaxing. He always knew how to make her smile. "Yeah. Gimme a few."

She closed her eyes again. Maybe now that she could relax, she could think again.

Things couldn't be all that bad.

(so sorry for taking so long omg)  

[saedusk]

Jamie Delacroix

The first thing Jamie does is watch Sunny. For as long as she remains before them, he watches her, and then she vanishes. It's like waking up from a dream somewhere between too vivid and almost forgotten. In his hands, the stone still glows and Jamie is left with more questions than answers.

What was the point of everything they'd done up 'til now? What did it all mean? Were they doing the right thing? Was there a right thing at all? Jamie was only eighteen. Since coming into his magic, it felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

If nothing else, he has Shiloh and Oliver. Coming out of this he knows he isn't alone and that things will probably be alright. Even so, he's too tired to think about it much right now.

"Let's go home," he agrees numbly, searching for Shiloh's hand. He thanks the fact that he has a place to go home to at all. After all, thinking back to their 80s counterparts makes him realize something important: things could've been completely different. Jamie has to thank his lucky stars he wound up born into a world with loving, supporting parents, a world where bad things happened, but they certainly weren't the worst. He feels sick when he thinks about anything else.

And really, what exactly had they changed, if anything, remaking the sigil? Jamie has to wonder if everything will simply fall back into place as if nothing happened. Part of him is sure that just isn't possible.

It's something they can explore another day, right?

As they walk, though, he closes his eyes and the thoughts don't immediately go away. There's only one thing he can cling to and it's hope, hope and the familiar feeling of the ones he cares about standing beside him. There was no way of knowing what everyone else put into the sigil, but Jamie knew he'd put forward the truest wish he could. If he was lucky, their success in rebuilding it would bring about good changes.

Do you think things will be better? he wants to ask, but keeps the question to himself, at least for now. They were tired, all of them, and now simply wasn't the time for worry and wonder. Instead he sucks in a deep, meaningful breath, he tastes the fresh morning air and the promise that comes with it.

Jamie doesn't know if what they'd done is good or bad or if anything in this world is as simple as yes or no or black or white. Still, he knows he has to keep going, because what other option is there? At least they're walking towards the future together.  

[Melancholies]

Oliver Beaumont

Some people might have felt rejuvenation at the rise of the sun, the colors bleeding through a sky that, despite no words or confirmation, felt wholly like it belonged to them and their world. Some people might have felt relief, maybe the weight of everything lift off of them like million pound weights. Oliver felt numbness when he watched the bright colors crawl underneath clouds. The warmth in his bones was wholly superficial. The women from before was there for a split moment, and then she was gone.

Was this supposed to be a victory? He didn't even know what had happened or what had went on. He didn't know what anything was, what right was from left, or what up was from down. The north star might be leading south for all he was concerned.

He looked to his brother and the resolve in his features. He stood up to this like a knight with the kings sword at their neck. He was unwavered—maybe tired, but weren't they all?—and what could Oliver say for himself? Jamie too looked a little more apprehensive, but there was still something steely in his eyes like he'd gone through these motions before. Not the remaking the world thing, but the complete upheaval, the not knowing, the going forward anyway. He watched them both jump into the void like it was nothing. He saw the way they looked at one another.

What the ******** had life done with his brother? He missed him. This looked like Shiloh, felt like Shiloh, but wasn't Shiloh. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any answers any time soon.

"Let's get you home." The man who looked like his brother said, the tone of his voice woven thickly with something far more serious than the petulant ******** twin he'd left behind only months ago. It hurt Oliver somewhere in his chest—somewhere inexplicable—but he didn't say anything. He smiled sadly. He was too tired to feel anything anxious. What do you know that you aren't telling me? he thought as he looked towards Jamie, but he said nothing.

"Sure, yeah." He said to them both. "Home." That's all he wanted, back in the void. When he bled into the sigil his number one thought was how he wanted to return home, and well, here they were, he supposed?

It was a problem for the future him, he decided. Tomorrow was a land of prosperous insights, after all, far more hopeful than the present, far less despair than what existed in the past. He'd just force himself forward too.

What else was there to do?

He couldn't let his brother walk the path alone. He couldn't let Jamie fill a place that he once occupied. There was an innumerable amount of things he'd have to catch up on and a slew of topics he'd have to familiarize himself with. There wasn't anyway he could sit here and still plead ignorance and find peace with himself. Standing on the sidelines was just as bad as being the perpetrator, as far as he was concerned.

He could be stronger than this. He had to be.