smk_ooc | Character Meet and Greet

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Character Meet and Greet

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"You can design and create, and build the most wonderful place in the world. But it takes people to make the dream a reality."

I. Exploring Main Street! Take a trip through a little town taken straight from 1890's America. Visit the shops, dine at the restaurants- but don't forget you are here on a mission. As an Apprentice, you will need to gather some supplies. A weapon, or tool for producing magic.

But we understand if that corn dog cart on Market Street is your first stop.

II. Apprentice Class 101! Practice your spell casting and weaponship on the open commons behind the Firehouse. Sparring, casting or just general confusion abound here. Try not to hit anything or...anyone, the paint on the infirmary is still drying.

III. Look out! A level 2 corroded monster has managed to get onto Main Street! Protect the citizens and defeat the cur, and please watch the damage, the paint is still wet!

IV. One Little Spark! Go ahead, show us the strength of your imagination and come up with your own scenarios. Just, stay out of the Corroded Lands...if possible.

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Oh. A sorceress. Is that all? [a serene smile]

I'm sure that you will get exactly as you deserve, my dear.

Shade was typical of adults maybe, but it was even more typical of demons. Oh as a general rule he had nothing against kids, even sort of liked them, but he really wasn't in the sunniest of moods.

"Flying, nah... I don't fly much. I was in my car, driving back to London. We were trying to prevent Armageddon."

He scowled.

"Must have cocked that up too, to end up here. Can't remember how, other than we couldn't find the Antichrist... There wasn't a light, a tunnel, or a pillar of flame I was just here and my friend was't."

A long sad drink was taken from the soda even as he wished once again it were something stronger. Suddenly he looked up and over to Lydia.

"Some old guy in a stupid blue hat?"

The bow received a sneer and a very ungrateful, "Shut up."

One didn't really thank demons. For the most part they didn't appreciate the gratitude. It came from a sense that they really ought to always be doing the wrong thing and you really didn't want it getting around to the bigwigs down in Hell that you had done the right thing. Political suicide that.

"You are pretty good with a sword, but..." A glance at how well-dress the man was, "not a typical soldier?"

"I am keeping an eye out."

Though in order to watch behind them he did have to slither about Azriaphale's neck and 'periscope' his head over the angels to see between his wings.

"Oh, this is bad..."

He shuddered even if the pathway behind them was also clear.

"Can you feel that, there's a dark malevolence in the air. Hatred. That's what it is, pure hatred."

Close to Azriaphale's ear he hissed, "How could we stop that thing? What we need to be doing is hiding. it's after us, hunting us from the shadows."

Malcolm took the snark with grace and a slight smirk almost like he was used to such a thing. "Cheerful one aren't you," he said as he finishes his glance around pleased to see the guests settling back into having fun their minds already forgetting what they'd seen. He nods. "What I am is.....different," he said unsure how to bring up his past with a being who is very clearly not human. He gestures at his clothing. "This is how the guests see me when I'm working...it makes me look like the other cast members and I can wander a bit more easily."

He slides his sword back into his scabbard. "My name is Malcolm Meryln."

IV. Alright, maybe that last spell hadn't gone... quite as planned. But then she was kind of... past planning and fully into panic. She'd never admit as much of course, but there it was. The newly blond girl with the purple tips to her hair had driven her very purple vespa right off the edge of a cliff, but the spell that was supposed to take her back to the Isle... Somehow landed her here instead. Without her Vespa. Or her bag. Or her mother. Also, irritatingly, without her spell book. Not that it would have done her much good on the Isle, mind...

But first things first. Where was she? The blond hair and soft makeup might have said Auradon Princess, but the hands on her hips, angle of her chin, and studded purple leather all warned that this was not someone the faint of heart would want to mess with. She might have been freaking out, but she was far too much her mother's daughter to let anyone see that.

Alright. First thing first. Figure out where she was. Because while this place looked more like Auradon than the Isle, it wasn't quite that either. No matter what that castle might make her think. Easy enough test. Even without the spellbook there were some spells she knew well enough by now to do on her own. So she picked the first person she saw and pointed a pale finger at them, not bothering to ask if they wanted her to do magic on them. Of it worked, she was in Auradon where an apology could fix everything anyway. If it didn't she was on the Isle and too bi a fish for anyone short of Shrimpy to pick a fight with.

So. Here went everything. "Beware, forswear, replace the old with new cool hair." She made the required gestures and...

"Well that didn't work," she muttered, her target more than half forgotten already as she turned over the implications.

A.

Now, Mal was about the last person in the world who should be jumping to conclusions based on appearances or first impressions, but she knew evil soccrrecces. She had been raised by one, after all. So, head clocked, hands on hips, she smirked. "Not quite sure good is the right term here, now is it?" Get the poor helpless soul free first, then she could make it clear that magic or no magic, as far as any villains were concerned? This was Mal's turf now. She still wasn't fully sure where here was, but she knew her place. And it was right at the top of the trash heap.

Mal might have watched the whole little theft drama playing out with amusement. It had actually been hilarious. Almost adorable, really. She smirked. When he headed out, she casually headed in, and helped herself to a coffee and a bagel that was actually covered in cream cheese and yes, strawberry preserves. She had the bagel in a bag and the coffee cup lidded, seeming to drop the munny it cost in the till on her way out, when the reality was that the main theft was right in that moment, when she paid with a five while palming two twenties. Those got slipped into the bagel bag as she acted as though she was trying to juggle the bag and coffee while getting the door. Easier than taking candy from a baby in Auradon.

When she came out she looked around before spotting him on the roof. Okay, that was almost impressive. She smirked up at him. "Mind giving a girl a hand up to see the view?" she called up to him. "Might even give you a few pointers while I'm up there."

Smug arrogance, thy name is Mal.

Well, Mal, if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck - actually maybe this analogy isn't the right one.

She takes one glance at the girl before putting her attentions back on the person she is semi-throttling.

"Mind your own business, brat. I don't have time for the whole 'good is bad, bad is good' wordplay, I HAVE RICH OLD MEN TO DESTROY!"

Mal laughed at that. Well score one for intuition. She stalked closer, loving the feeling of being back in leather after all the crinoline and lace and silk of Auradon. "Brat is it?" she asked, eyes flashing as she grinned. She crossed her arms and leaned down slightly. "Big word from someone who can't even manage to scare one lowly employee into doing your bidding. But then again, I guess posers like you are found everywhere true villains congregate."

Tick off the other villain then bargain. That would get the hapless innocent out of harm's way, and possibly get her a new flunky. It bothered her slightly, that she cared at all about the innocent, or that she wasn't that invested in making this odd duck work for her, but she pushed those thoughts aside. She'd made her choice. She went back to the Isle. Or tried to. She was rotten. To the core. Villains had whims all the time, that was all.

V stopped, eyes narrowed at the girl and her cat. Clearly a familiar. After all these years, it shouldn't still hurt, shouldn't still be a thorn under her skin that she had been the only child not invited to Evie's birthday party when they were children. The only one without a cat or eel as a familiar. The only one excluded. And the odd thing was? When she was at Auradon that pain was gone. She had thought it had healed. Especially given her close friendship with Evie. But apparently that was part of the magic of Auradon. Because that darkness welled up within her again.

And Mal did with it what she was taught. Hid it and used it to fuel her schemes. Which meant step one wasd get this girl, whoever she was, on her side. For now.

"And what sort of magical tool do you think the spawn of Lucifer would find for you?" she asked, hands on her hips, smirk in place on her painted lips.

LOOK OUT

Mal's brows went up into her now very blond hair. Not that one could easily tell, with how pale she was. But still. That was an almost impressive show of bravery there. Well, never one to be out done, Mal hopped up onto a barrel of her own. Never mind that she didn't have her spell book and hadn't started apprentice training here. She was an Isle kid. She grew up most of her life being the biggest and baddest without magic, and she hadn't grown so soft that she couldn't stand up to a monster or two here. Especially given her bag was currently loaded with apples.

She opened a compartment in the side to grab out two, tossing one to her other hand. Apples were great. They were wonderful. They were food. They were also... projectiles. Let the other guy make a big speech. Mal was throwing an apple right at the thing's face. She aimed to be, well, the cause of the apple in its eye.

1. Mal raised her pale brows towards her blond hair and put her hands on her hips. "You're supposed to bite it, not be afraid of it going the other way around, you know. Buy me one and I'll show you how it's done, if you need the lesson," she said with a smirk.

Getting people to buy her free food certainly beat having to steal the money for it.

That... was not good. No use in negotiating with it then. He jogged a little faster to the fire escape, then tripped as Crowley hissed in his ear.

"Ahahaha don't do that!" It tickles dreadfully, especially that tongue.

"And I don't know but we can't just let it alone, Crowley. Euugh this is covered in rust." He cringes as he looks at the ladder. He is going to be positively grimy after this. Not to mention the state of his clothes. The dry cleaning bill alone didn't bear thinking about.

He started to climb anyway, very reluctantly, only because the growling seemed to be getting closer. It took him a moment to reach the first landing and when he did his arms and legs felt a bit rubbery with effort. Aziraphale looked up at the seven or so stories left to go and made an executive decision.

"Right. Window." He pushed one open with some effort and the room seemed to be abandoned, but more importantly, they could hide in the building and perhaps there was an elevator!

"But we're not going to hide here forever. We need to come up with a plan. We're-- I'm an angel after all! I am here to thwart that kind of thing and I can't let it hurt--" He grunts as he worms his way into the window.

"Anyone-- else--" Another pull and he winces again. "...Blast."

He doesn't want to tell Crowley he's stuck in a somewhat undignified position but perhaps -- if he wriggles a little more....

Trust me I know the feeling. [he rolls his eyes, but smiles and takes the man's hand]

I am A.Z. Fell. It's a pleasure to meet you.

I take it you're ready for a spot of trouble? [he gestures at the sword]

I. "I'm on an adventure!" the blond stick figure.... person(??) said, his thin black arms thrown high in the air. He spun around to look at everything. That was fun. So he spun around some more, and some more, and some more. Until he landed on the ground, grinning like the idiot he is. Then he finally did look around. "Wow. Nice art upgrade. Cool castle. All two of it." Someone might still be a little dizzy.

"Wait! Art upgrade!" he jumped to his feet. Almost failed. Didn't seem to notice. He looked down at himself excitedly, then his shoulders slumped. "Just to the background? I guess that makes sense. You don't have to draw it as often," he said, doing his duty as Bard to give the exposition new readers might need if they just stumbled across the webcomic now. It was a standard task whenever there was downtime between adventures. "But I'm still me, thin stick figure arms, three fingered hands, straight line sw... where is my sword?" His mismatched eyes went wide with little lines around them to show his alarm.

"Um, excuse me, someone forgot to draw my sword! I mean, I know, I'm supposed to draw my sword, but how can I draw my sword if no one has drawn my sword?" He looked at the nearest person. "Do you know how many good puns I am wasting, with no sword to get my point across?!"

"Yes, I rather know how to eat, thank you." And he was hungry, which was a curious sensation. But not hungry enough.

"You may have this one if you like. I haven't touched it. Other than the...Stick...portion."

She shrugged and took the corndog. She used to eat off garbage heaps, she wasn't turning down food just because someone else had handled it. She took a big bite. it was odd. Not quite Auradon food, but too high a quality to be from the Isle. Either way it was good.

"Then what's the problem?" she asked, considering spitting on the corndog to make sure he didn't take it back. She didn't, in the end, do it, but she did consider it. Of course that wouldn't have stopped Jay from swiping it from her, if he were here.

"It's just not to my taste." A bland smile. He didn't say it's because he has taste, but he's certainly thinking it. He folds his hands in front of him.

"You seem to be enjoying it, Miss...?"

[Malcolm chuckles and nods his hand shake firm but not painfully so.]

A pleasure to meet you as well.

[Malcolm pulls his sword free from it's scabbard to the delight of one of the children behind him who he turns around and takes a moment to greet and show off for making it clear he handles the weapon well almost like it's an extension of his arm. He then turns back to the man behind him once the little girl has run back off to her parents, He waves at his princely outfit.]

I find it easier to blend in among the guests dressed this way. It allows me to wander around and look for trouble. This is also the way I channel my magic as an Apprentice.

[He he slides his sword back into the scabbard]

You must be new then.

"Mal," she said simply. She was used to her name meaning something. Everywhere she had ever gone, everyone knew who she was. Well, more specifically, everyone knew who her mother was. Mal was pretty sure no one actually knew who Mal was, herself included.

"And considering this is better than anything sold at the slop shop back home," meaning back on the Isle, "Yes I am. Though there are places around here with better food if you don't like this. Had a halfway decent bagel this morning. Good coffee."

"Mal. What a lovely name." He is mostly sincere about this and it is far easier to be appreciative of the name than the food choices. Halfway decent bagel and coffee. He is thrilled to bits.

"Perhaps you'd care to show me if you have the time?" It has to be better than a corn dog, and he'd like to learn this place a little better through the eyes of someone else.

She might have blinked in surprise a bit. She;'s had lots of reactions to her name, but that wasn't generally one of them. Except by people trying to be polite while scared to death of her, which he didn't seem to be, or utterly disgusted and trying to hide it. Again, not here. Odd.

But she nodded as she took the last bite off the corndog and tossed the stick over her shoulder. It took all her self control not to go back and throw it in the trash properly. "Come on," she said, heading for the place she'd stolen breakfast. Well no, paid for breakfast with stolen money.

[it is clear that he's good at it, and Aziraphale is no stranger to men with a great ability to handle their swords. However he can't help but wince a little as he demonstrates for the child and hope nothing unfortunate happens. He can't help but be relieved when the sword is put away]

You pull it off quite well, I have to say. I can't help but love a sense of style. [a faint smile]

I'm afraid I am. [he looks around and sighs] Though I suppose I'll get used to it.

He doesn't follow. Instead regards the stick with his hands folded in front of him and his eyebrows raised.

"I'm sorry, you were how old again?"

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Character Meet and Greet

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