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[cradlingalight]

@e.courcey

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OPEN SEASON

@courcey
25 / male / gay / 8 of Clubs

About Photos Questions Personality Compatibility

Details

My Self-Summary

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My Future Plans

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My Talents

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Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

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My Ideal Partner

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Height 5'11 Body Type Needs a sandwich Smokes Socially (so no, not often) Drinks A bit Drugs Too much of a control freak Sign ANSWER Education Oxford University, Natural Sciences Occupation Civil Service, Liason to the Chief Minister of the Magical Assembly Income On an allowance Children No thank you Pets Likes cats Hobbies books and self-recrimination

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

WINE/BEER

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

CLOWNS/MIMES

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

SHOWER/BATH

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

PIRATES/NINJAS

.05 TITS OR ASS

TITS/ASS

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

COFFEE/TEA

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

SPICY/SWEET

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

SUMMER/WINTER

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

LEATHER/LACE

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

ROUGH SEX/GENTLE SEX

Personality Type
ISTJ-T

ENERGY

100%

introverted

MIND

59%

observant

NATURE

76%

thinking

TACTICS

74%

judging

IDENTITY

71%

turbulent

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

Comments

[virtuesignal]

I'm fond of humans. [said so very plainly and earnestly, though it is an extraordinary trait for a unicorn. They're known to be choosey creatures at best, prone to be isolationist rather than spending time with many other animals. Concord likes living with people, for the most part. He had once suffered too much loneliness to ever want to be separated from them again.]

And to be a human with magic is an incredible thing. Color me impressed.

[cradlingalight]

Not all that impressive from my own perspective, but that's kind of you to say anyway.

[Even as Edwin says that, he only...partially means the first part of his statement. Sometimes magic does feel very commonplace to a person like him, who grew up with it permeating everything. But other times he is still quite impressed with what magic can do.]

[backdated to mid-November] un: Ross

[the_roman]

[ Alan Ross is having a strange day.

It started with walking into one of the elevators. At the time, golden laurels twined around his arms, peeking out from under the cuffs of his shirt. He'd poked one of the buttons to take him to the floor where he was fairly sure the smoke lounge was -- and in the middle of the smooth ride, the car jerked to a stop. Uncertain of what to do, Alan had waited, paced, poked buttons, kicked the door, paced some more, and lost track of time entirely by the time the car hitched, jerked again, and continued its interrupted journey.

When he steps out, there's a a sudden but uncertain sense of difference. The polished walls of the corridors seem to have a few more fingerprints than normal, and as he walks around, he gets the undeniable impression that the staff is stretched. Also, when he runs into one of them, they barely even glance at him.

That's when he notices that the laurels on his arms are gone.

Something decidedly queer has happened, he thinks, and after a few minutes of dithering with his Watch, he manages to find the person he thinks is most likely to know about queer goings-on. ]

Courcey,

Did something happen? I'm a bit lost. It seems like there's been some kind of staff turnover in the last hour.

—Ross

[cradlingalight]

[This is...unexpected. Edwin had seen Alan all of once, had brought him back to his room and verified his claims about knowing him in...what appears to be the future and then they'd parted ways. With the intention of probably remaining in contact, of course, but with no fixed plans.

And then he hadn't heard from Alan again. He'd tried to contact him, heard no answer, and had...more or less assumed that Alan wanted nothing to do with him. Fine, then.

And then this. Edwin puzzles over the question.]

Mr Ross, hello. Nothing has happened to the staff in the last hour to my knowledge.

[The resort has been understaffed for a good couple of weeks now. The message reaches Edwin as he's sitting and reading in Swan Lake - which has been a much more frustrating experience given that things are being shelved badly or not at all in recent weeks - and he glances up to see if...there are perhaps even less interim librarians. He even gets up and makes his way to the entrance of the library to glance out. Just in case he's missed something.]

[the_roman]

Something has happened, at any rate. Are you in your rooms?

[cradlingalight]

I'm at the Swan Lake library.

[He could say "if you care to join me", but he doesn't. He's still feeling a bit snubbed, though he doesn't go so far as to demand answers from Alan. Yet.]

[the_roman]

[ Alan doesn't entirely have the hang of this texting thing yet -- he thinks of it like something between a telegram and instantaneous letter writing -- and he doesn't bother to reply to this. Instead, some five minutes later, he simply shows up at the library, looking around the stacks for Edwin. ]

Thank goodness, there you are. [ His relief ar seeing a familiar face is understated, but very real. Being ignored by the staff he did see in the corridors has been disconcerting. ] This place is as bad as -- well, never mind. I keep expecting the doorknobs to bite me.

[cradlingalight]

[Edwin looks...well, very neutral, really. He regards Alan not with outright distaste but at the very least a sort of cool and vague disinterest. But he does engage him in conversation.]

You might well think that, considering what happened to who knows how many guests last month.

[Some of them seemed very keen on biting.]

[the_roman]

[ Alan blinks, pausing. Admittedly they didn't part on, you know, intimate terms, in any sense of the word. But -- well, Edwin's not particularly warm, he supposes. ]

What do you mean? With all that nonsense with the water? Or do you mean before that?

[cradlingalight]

No, the nonsense with people turning into monsters of all kind.

I did try to reach you to make sure you hadn't fallen prey or weren't in some other sort of trouble. But you were busy, it seems.

[the_roman]

[ Long pause. ]

Mr. Courcey, [ carefully, ] what in hell are you talking about?

[cradlingalight]

[Edwin's brows knit together a bit at that question.]

What do you mean? It went on for about two weeks, you can't have missed it. The moon in the lobby? Guests-turned-monsters being herded into the Vale?

[the_roman]

The moon in the lobby?

[ Alan is not thrilled with his contributions here being all questions, and what feel like increasingly stupid ones, too. ]

I bloody well did miss that. Or -- or else someone got at my memory, but that can't be it.

[ He manages not to finish with "Can it?" What possible reason would someone here have for erasing something like that from his memory? And he'd have perturbed it if someone had. He'd have something. ]

[cradlingalight]

It does seem highly unlikely.

[Edwin agrees, frowning just a bit more at what is turning out to be a mystery. He'd seen how difficult it was to direct magic at Alan firsthand. And, indeed: why would anyone bother?]

...What's the last thing you do remember?

[the_roman]

I was going upstairs to my room -- got into one of the elevators, and it got stuck. And here, look.

[ He undoes the cuff of one of his sleeves and pushes it up to reveal a perfectly plain forearm: no curling golden laurels, nor anything else remarkable. ]

I knew the godly bit wasn't going to last, but don't they give you any warning?

[cradlingalight]

That's the first time that people have shown up marked in that particular way. But no, they don't tend to give you much warning before you get properly categorized.

[His eyes narrow a little, though it doesn't look like annoyance. In fact, it looks like concentration...well, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, but that's only at the situation.]

Those markings faded months ago, though.

[So why is Alan bringing them up now?]

[the_roman]

Properly categorized, [ Ross repeats, in a tone like he's swallowing blood from a bitten tongue. ] Right.

Courcey, I'd stake my life that I was done up like an opera house two hours ago. [ He looks down at his arm, pushing the other sleeve up to examine it with a frown, and glances towards the club tattooed on Courcey's hand. ] And if I've been categorized, I can't see it.

[ This is on amount of it being hard to see the back of one's own neck, but obviously he can't know that. ]