#⠀⠀⠀ › ⠀⠀ TASK⠀002 .

[cogitxre]

TASK 2.1 :: THE INTERROGATION.

— mentions of NICOLAI ARLAY-SINCLAIR [ @honeyedking ], SARAI ODENA [ @eternaladagio ], and THE TRAGEDY.

{ ✦ } Where did you last see [ THE TRAGEDY ]? Or when did you last hear of [ THE TRAGEDY ]?

Milo takes a deep breath, fingers interlacing tightly as he places his hands in his lap; ever the picture of poise, covering up the raging maelstrom of emotion inside. Just like he's learned his whole life.

"I talked to Vincent the evening before his death; likely just a handful of hours prior. I asked him if he would be joining me to study that night."

A wry smile plays at his lips as he thought back to that day, one of the ones that only occurred around close friends. One of his last interactions with Vincent. At least it had been a good one.

"He just smiled, shook his head; told me he had other matters to attend to that night. He was never quite as stuck in his books as I was. Am." "I thought nothing of it. I bid him farewell; figured I would see him the following day."

Near-imperceptible, a muscle in his jaw twitches. If only so much hadn't gone left unsaid between them. Perhaps he would have less regrets. Less...pains.

"...but I didn't."

{ ✦ } Where were you at time of death of [ THE TRAGEDY ]? And what were you doing?

"I was doing my usual: ...studying."

He gives the dark-haired woman a somewhat apologetic glance, though when he speaks, there's a hint of amusement to his tone.

"Sorry, I'm not all that interesting. That night was psychology research...ironically. Spent the entire night in the library reviewing the cortico-striatal-thalamic loop in preparation to discuss how it interacts with Tourette's syndrome. Fascinating stuff, really."

His eyes shift back to his interrogator from where they'd roamed towards the bookshelves, skimming what little bit of the spines he could read. Older volumes had more wear-and-tear to the lettering, making it nigh impossible to make them out. Didn't stop him from trying, though. All knowledge was worth having. Milo offers the woman a half-smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"...but you don't particularly care about that, do you? So for both your sake and mine, let's move on. You'd rather not get a lecture on Tourette's, and I'd truly rather not think about my dissertation at the moment. So what's next?"

{ ✦ } Who can attest to your alibi?

"In the library, I was alone. However..."

Milo shifts his weight slightly, crossing his arms. He casts his eyes upwards, thinking back to the night of his friend's demise. After a moment, he nods, and his gaze settles back on the woman.

"Nicolai Arlay-Sinclair. I messaged him the night of Vincent's death, and mentioned I would be in the library all night. I thought he might join me."

His lips twitch, settling ever-so-slightly into a frown. Showing about as much emotion as he ever did, merely a ripple in his icy façade. But whether it was concern or suspicion was practically unintelligible.

"...it seems he never made it out to meet me."

Shaking his head, as if to clear his thoughts, Milo returns his gaze to the interrogator. He gives another half-shrug, a finishing signal, leaving little room for expansion on his following point.

"Sarai Odena can also attest."

{ ✦ } The SOCIETY requires your verdict on [ THE TRAGEDY ]'s demise: Was it the calculated hand of murder? The cruel whim of accident? Or the final, desperate act of self-annihilation?

There it is again, the faintest twitch of the muscle near his jawline. He stills, gaze dropping to the table for a moment. After a few beats of silence, Milo nods.

"A knife is too personal a choice of weapon for an accident, and I doubt someone interested in a quick exit would have slit their throat. It's not exactly a common choice."

He glances back at the woman, a hint of that firm tone from the end of his statement returning.

"I do, in fact, believe it was murder."

[miloricci]

DINNER DATE at Il Giardino

with. @neslihvns

na direção do restaurante, camilo não pensava muito sobre a maldição, almas gêmeas ou o ocorrido naquela noite misteriosa. como se recuperasse finalmente um pequeno resquício da sua vida antes daquela notícia, ricci dirigia divertindo-se com a simples ideia de que aquele encontro representava sua vitória de alguns dias antes. e ele sabia que seria deliciosamente interessante testemunhar neslihan ser agradável consigo, contrariando seu instinto feroz que geralmente não falhava em colocá-lo em seu devido lugar. como tudo que envolvia os dois, toda a situação em que se encontravam não era mais do que uma briga de egos. eles tinham palavra suficiente para honrar a aposta, até mesmo camilo teria obedecido qualquer que fosse a exigência alheia, e portanto sabia que a turca não falharia. mas verdade fosse dita, a proposta do encontro não tinha um verdadeiro envolvimento com as questões recentemente levantadas a respeito de como eles poderiam estar envolvidos na lenda da maldição de khadel. milo não achava que a gökçe era sua alma gêmea, e sinceramente, nem queria achar. um ano para descobrir quem seria seu verdadeiro amor? impossível. preferia focar em algo muito mais concreto: traduzir, eventualmente, toda a inquietude alheia diante de sua presença em uma inevitável química, levá-la para cama, e finalmente riscar o nome de seu caderninho. mais cedo, solicitou que um motorista a buscasse em sua residência, e aguardou do lado de fora do restaurante a sua chegada. ao estacionar do carro, o motorista chegou até a porta antes que camilo o pudesse fazer, e assim ricci ficou, parado no meio do caminho, observando a figura magnética que deixava o automóvel em um vestido que parecia ter sido feito para uso exclusivo de neslihan gökçe. “uau” escapou-lhe, passando a mão pelo próprio peito como se desamassasse a peça de roupa, mas na verdade buscava mandar um aviso discreto para que o corpo diminuísse um pouco a palpitação no peitoral. piscou algumas vezes antes de voltar a se concentrar, e caminhou até a jovem sem demora. “você está… estonteante.” ele já estava na vantagem ali, certo? que mal fazia um elogio sincero? não era como se neslihan não soubesse o quão atraente era. talvez ela aguardasse algum comentário engraçadinho e presunçoso, até por ter exigido que ela lhe oferecesse simpatia independente de como ele se comportasse, mas sabia que somente havia uma forma de pega-la desprevenida: ser agradável. pelo menos até sentarem à mesa. ofereceu o braço para que caminhassem juntos até a entrada do restaurante. “escolhi a mesa do lado de fora, mas eles podem mudar, se você preferir” a música no ambiente interno era boa, mas estar ao ar livre parecia mais agradável. imaginava, pelo que conhecia dela, que a morena também escolheria o mesmo. “e já confirmei também o cardápio. as opções, para nossa mesa, são todas vegetarianas. até as minhas, então não precisa se preocupar” sorte a dele que sua má fama faria a mulher pensar que tais esforços eram apenas charme temporário: imaginem se descobrissem que as vezes camilo ricci conseguia pensar em outra pessoa além dele? “vamos?”

[honeyedking]

GAME ONE • FIRST THREE TEXTS_

Nicolai grimaced as he pressed the wrong button yet again, holding back an aggrieved sigh. Given how the trial had started, being given outdated technology seemed a rather tame challenge in comparison. Perhaps it was more the implication - that they were cut off from the outside world, from his sisters. ( or perhaps it was that foreboding, insidious feeling that whispered how every carefully crafted message could very well be his last. )

[ Outgoing message to Vittoria Arlay-Sinclair_ ]

Vita, it's Nico. Just lost my phone. Got this temporary number in the meantime. Left some documents that need signing on your desk at home. Might be busy the next couple of weeks with exams. Sorry if I don't reply as quickly, but call me if you need anything. Love you.

[ Outgoing message to Amelie Arlay-Sinclair_ ]

Amie, it's Nico. Just lost my phone. Got this temporary number in the meantime. Yes, loved the gown you showed me. You're going to kill at the gala. Sorry I can't make it. Might be busy the next couple of weeks with exams, but call me if you need anything. Love you.

[ Outgoing message to Unregistered Contact_ ]

It's Nico. Changed numbers again. Might not be able to reply. Call if its urgent. Take care of yourself.

[lambentine]

NEW CONTACT CREATED: Caroline Liggins (HJ&A)

> Hi Caroline, I'm just letting you know I'll only be available on this number for the time being.

NEW CONTACT CREATED: arrow of my heart [Archer Drake]

> lunch my queen???? i can't text with emojis ):

NEW CONTACT CREATED: momma bear

> borrowing a friends phone!!!! will be out of cell range for a while xxx

[intheseaofred]

Conrad remembers the face of the last customer that came into the small grocery store around the corner, the one he had worked at since he was fourteen. He remembers counting the change quickly, eager to get home knowing that his sisters must be expecting him. He remembers the pouring rain and the way his disheveled, honey curls got soaked through clinging to his forehead as he raced home. And, even if he wishes to forget, he still remembers the sound of a gun going off, the way his heart raced when he slipped on the cobblestones because his feet couldn't carry him fast enough and the dreadful feeling that wouldn't leave his bones. He still remembers wide scared eyes staring at him and the deceased body in the middle of his kitchen, the feeling of blood underneath his palms and the rush to get it out from under his fingernails.

He remembers it all. It haunts him in his sleep and then his mind fight back just a little, just enough to let him to wake up.

The routine is always the same, he lets himself stay in bed for the seconds that follow, heart racing as he tries to grasp reality, to ground himself, to make sure he is not back there and that he is safe, then, slowly, he gets up and walks to the kitchen, finally flicking on a soft light in the kitchen and with trembling hands he prepares a cup of tea, staring out through the open space and into the living room window just as he waits for the water to boil. The lack of safety and paranoia often take over, especially after the current climate that the island is surround by, which makes some thoughts take over:

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS. What’s the most damning rumor you’ve heard about any of the families that you actually believe is true?

Thought: The truth is that Conrad doesn't like rumors, he tens not to listen to them and even when he does he tries not continue the chain, choosing to take them just as they are and not make any more of it. But, he does remember going through that man's wallet, just after his life had ended, he remembers retrieving a note with his address and the name del bosque under it, he remembers his mother retrieving a quite generous sum of money every last Sunday of the month, every time she went to the bank, even when she was unemployed and even if that money never made it to the rest of the family, always spent in more unnecessary things and her vices. He knows something is going on he just can't seem to connect the dots. Reality: What happened exactly is something that Conrad is still unaware of, he knows that him and his siblings don't share the same father, but what he doesn't know is that there was a rumor going around about how maybe, one or two of them are the result of an affair, during the brief time when their mother worked for the family. That is why the attack happened, it was never a robbery like Conrad initially thought, the rumor made its way to the wrong pair of ears and someone thought that maybe they could get away with some threats and pockets full of money. It ended badly of course. But the truth is not what it seems and there are only two people who know what exactly went down before Conrad was born. He was born into the del bosque family in secret, his real mother was a member of the founding family, however, she was also a woman who was not willing to raise a child at that moment and one who knew very well the values that her family carried so she decided to make a deal with the woman Conrad has been calling mother his whole life - once she had the baby, this woman would take care of him as her own in exchange for money.

PERSONAL VENDETTAS. Does your muse have unfinished business with any particular family member? What happened, and how do they plan to settle the score?

Thought: Just like it was said above, Conrad knows that there is something going on with the del bosque and his family, he knows that somehow there is some kind of involvement in what happened, even if it's not necessarily a personal vendetta, it's definitely a constant in his mind and something he intends to clear up. Reality: While I am still unsure of whatever will happen once he finds out the truth about his life, I can say for sure that will unleash so many conflicting feelings within him and what his beliefs are in the sense of Coronado's future too, the very foundations that make his existence will be shaken up. But, not only will this affect his thoughts about the del bosque, it will also affect his thoughts about the shibata family. Unknown to him, his middle sister, the one closer to him in age and the one he has raised up until her adolescence, has been recruited to be a kahegito, something that Conrad obviously does not know. However, back then, he thought he was making the right choice by breaking any contact he had with his family, but now, he is currently looking for them again, which means, there will be many complications ahead - one of them being none other than Katashi Shibata, who is determined to see her succeed and stop Conrad from being a stone in her path.

POWER PLAY. What’s your prediction for who will control Coronado in five years? Will any of the current families remain, or will we see new players emerge from the ashes?

Thoughts: Part of him doubts the del bosque will remain in power, but not without some fight. Their traditions, values, influence are the very foundations of what make Coronado, Coronado and this is not lost on its people, they need someone to adore, to look up to. But, the reality is that some of their control is slipping, giving way to new ways of maintaining and changing things and maybe that is exactly what everyone needs - some change, a chance for the population to be heard more, instead of individualistic pretenses. It would be interesting to see some new people in a more important role, someone unexpected.

[papaflynn]

TASK 002 — Happy Holidays, everybody!

Does your character celebrate Christmas?

Yes, very much so. Callum is big into Christmas and always has been since he was young.

If yes, how do they celebrate? Are they super pro Christmas, or a grinch?

Super pro Christmas. They decorate the small apartment in late November, and then, in December, there is a Christmas-themed movie every night with his daughter (Avie). Christmas Eve is a family night. He will spend the day cooking, and they will put on matching pyjamas, watch more movies and shows, then eat lots of Christmas treats. Avie gets to pick and open one present, and then they put out milk and cookies for Santa and Reindeer treats before they go to bed. Avie likes to sleep with her Dad on Christmas Eve, and he will read her different books until she falls asleep. When she's sound asleep, he will go out and fix all the presents for her, eat the cookies and drink the milk, then climb back into bed. A very tired Callum is woken up VERY EARLY, like 5am, and he shuffles out to watch Avie excitedly open presents. He would usually FaceTime his mom around this time, and they all share in the moment.

What do they eat on Christmas?

Christmas dinner is turkey, stuffing, ham, roast potatoes, carrots, parsnips, and sprouts with lots of gravy. Callum likes cranberry sauce, too. They like cake and custard for their Christmas dessert. Outside of that? Lots of chocolate and snacks. Callum has some wine, and Avie has some grape juice or other fancy juices that are her kid's wine.

What their favourite traditions?

Before they settle down for their Christmas Eve night, they carol sing door to door in the apartment complex to raise money for a local shelter, then donate it and help out for an hour at the shelter. That's Callum's favourite tradition, as he loves to share those moments with Avie and friends but also help others. Avie's favourite tradition is chocolate for breakfast (only on Christmas...and maybe Easter), and calling her Granny Flynn back in Ireland as she opens her presents.

What do they love most about Christmas?

Time off with Avie, making memories, and seeing her happy little face.

What’s the best Christmas present they’ve ever gotten?

For Callum, it was his first guitar when he was 9.

What was their favourite Christmas?

The second Christmas with Avie. The first Christmas had been hard as he came to terms with Hayley leaving them; he was sad and heartbroken. However, the following year, he vowed to make those traditions and moments with his daughter, and he's never been happier since.

Have their Christmas traditions changed since they were a child?

There is much more American influence and culture in his Christmasses with a young daughter growing up in the US. Callum keeps some Irish traditions going with movies, food, and treats, but overall elements have changed. The holiday is much smaller as he doesn't have all of his family, but Callum likes to invite friends around on Christmas day, as he loves a big, happy, laughing home on Christmas.

What’s the Christmas wish this year?

That Avie's troubles ease up. She's been having a tough year since the storm and feels her mother's absence more than ever. Callum hopes that sadness lifts from her and that with the new puppy (he bought her for her birthday) and time off with the family she does have, she will feel better. He wouldn't mind a Christmas kiss from a particular woman friend, but he's not expecting anything. They're just friends having some fun...

What’s their Christmas like? Do they dress fancy or in pyjamas? Presents before or after breakfast, presents on Christmas Eve? What’s their typical Christmas day?

Christmas Eve is pyjamas, and Christmas Day is cheesy jumpers. Presents early on Christmas morning before breakfast. After that, Avie naps on the sofa, watching cartoons, as Callum tidies up and preps dinner. He will invite friends over and then help Avie get ready. They will both be in cheesy Christmas jumpers, and when friends turn up, he will dish out dinner. There will be crackers, and they will all wear silly paper hats. After dinner, there's dessert, and theeeeen its party games/board games with Christmas music.

Anything else?

Here's some gifs from NP that give the vibe:

[imogenrhittrp]

Resilient little thing, just like mama raised you So you got that wildfire in your soul Don't you ever let it go Make it burn so bright that they all know

- Superbloom - MisterWives (2020)

[kretina]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝔭𝔬𝔳.

local: chalé de éris.

trigger warning: o texto abaixo contém menção a suicídio.

raiva. dor. solidão. incerteza. foram as palavras que katrina escreveu na folha de louro, sentimentos que lhe atingiram durante aquela missão. não havia sido a primeira, tinha o sentimento de que a segunda deveria ser maior, melhor, inesquecível. o isqueiro que detinha no bolso fora aceso, queimando aos poucos a folha e por fim, antes que houvessem apenas cinzas, o chalé de éris se transformou, a mente mergulhando no passado. 

estavam cansados, katrina e outros três semideuses inertes em fome, sede enquanto caminhavam pelas ruas de new orleans; tinham na mochila um artefato importante, que havia sido recuperado e deveria ser entregue a quíron. a missão até então, eles consideravam um sucesso, haviam encontrado monstros, mas nada que os tirassem do foco. katrina estava contente consigo mesma, havia controlado seu ímpeto de estragar tudo e seguiam em harmonia. contudo, o cansaço estava falando mais alto, os fazendo entrar em um bar com estrutura formosa, chamava atenção pela sua beleza, pela música agradável e pelas pessoas, que pareciam alegres. ela não havia prestado atenção no nome do lugar, mas o cheiro que atingia a todos era de torta de carne recém assada, refrigerante e batata frita. não hesitaram em entrar, mesmo que um frio os atingissem na espinha, mesmo que em letras garrafais estivesse escrito PERIGO sobre suas cabeças. 

o pedido fora feito, enquanto comiam, o artefato mágico na mochila fora esquecido. pareceram minutos enquanto deleitavam-se, matavam a fome mas horas se passaram até que algo aconteceu. um dos semideuses levantou-se, chorava enquanto dizia que a pessoa ao seu lado era mais bonita que ele; do centro do bar, um outro ergueu-se afogando-se em comida, vomitando e bebendo do próprio vômito, cheio demais para que continuasse, sedento para que parasse; além dela, havia outro semideus em nudez, agarrando-se com outras três pessoas. os sete pecados capitais rondavam aquele lugar, a névoa havia abaixado e dava para perceber as pessoas que haviam sucumbido ali antes deles. para katrina, estava reservada a ira. 

esta aproximou-se com cautela, uma dor de cabeça, um aperto no peito; imagens da família a abandonando, o sofrimento de saber que ninguém a amava, foi o bastante para que começasse a bater a própria cabeça no balcão, para que copos e pratos fossem arremessados, cadeiras sendo quebradas; e antes que alcançasse uma faca para cortar-lhe os pulsos (já que a ira era muito sobre sua incapacidade de ser amada), a mente tornou-se calma, a voz de éris a guiando para a verdade, que ela nunca estivera sozinha, nem mesmo nas ruas quando passava fome e sede. e ali, conseguiu desligar-se do transe, trazendo consigo, todos os outros três semideuses para o acampamento.

ainda no chalé, katrina chorou; baixo para que ninguém a ouvisse, porque era mentira. éris nunca havia falado consigo, o que a ajudou a sair do transe foram os próprios poderes; tinha mais ódio do que o bar comandado por um espírito antigo esperava. katrina gritou a plenos pulmões, ódio lhe escorrendo pelas pontas dos dedos, pela respiração cortando a ligação mágica, a deixando sobre os pecados. mas com aquela onda de poder, o âmbito se transformou em um antro de carnificina; corpos eram dilacerados, mordidos, o ódio que a pertencia tocando a todos os presentes, os envolvendo em loucura. com exceção de katrina, todos foram machucados, machucaram uns aos outros e naquela noite, ela deixou que sua equipe fosse reduzida a dois membros: ela e um outro semideus. por fim, katrina sabia que jamais se recuperaria daquele dia e agora, tinha uma conta de argila com um símbolo de uma mão em punho quebrada, a lembrando daqueles que havia confiado nela e morrido esperando.

@silencehq

[oftatteredwings]

"do you have the time to listen to me whine? about nothing and everything, all at once. I am one of those melodramatic fools, neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it."

✧ task 02; ben scott.

[lavendcrhazed]

✦・character development task 002: lucas souza (featuring @wntrdnvn

[cogitxre]

TASK 2.2 :: THE PHONE.

TO: Nicolai

> [SENT] I wonder if these bookshelves have any books on biopsychology...

TO: Clem

> [SENT] Doing alright?

TO: Sarai

> [SENT] And so, the games begin. I wonder what's next.

[miloricci]

SPA DATE at Studio Aurora

with @oliviafb

ele não estava ansioso para descobrir quem era sua alma gêmea, na verdade, estava era com medo. pensou que talvez pudesse lidar com tudo aquilo do jeito que costumava fazer: ignorando seus problemas até sumirem, ou subornando alguém. infelizmente camilo não podia oferecer dinheiro a um ser místico numa pedra na cascata jack, e tampouco havia se tornado possível ignorar o ocorrido depois que olivia se mostrou incapaz de manter a boca fechada por mais de um dia. ele amava atenção, mas ter todos os olhares em si com expectativas para algo que o aterrorizava parecia um constante pesadelo. naquela manhã, a situação para a qual ele caminhava não era a ideal; longe disso. acima de tudo ele não queria nem dar chance ao azar de ter olívia como sua alma gêmea, mas a mera possibilidade pareceu colocar o peso da expectativa de ambas as famílias nos ombros dos dois herdeiros mais do que nunca. ‘estava destinado!’ alguns pareciam pensar. ‘que história linda, as duas almas gêmeas prometidas em casamento antes mesmo de descobrirem seus destinos’. até alguns dos funcionários do ricci estavam animados com a ideia, como se os dois saíssem de alguma espécie de conto de fadas. e se não fosse a insistência externa sufocante, ele não teria se sentido tão desafiado com a maneira debochada que olivia ainda insistia em mencionar domenico. quando havia concordado com aquela palhaçada de encontro, estava embriagado, mas mesmo na [dolorosa] sobriedade havia raiva suficiente inflamando seu peito para que camilo estivesse disposto a mostrar o que olívia vinha perdendo desde sua terrível escolha. ah, sim. ela sairia dali desejando que fosse ele, e somente ele, sua possível metade. camilo havia chegado uns minutos mais cedo que a outra (o que antes das onze da manhã era uma vitória), e ergueu-se da poltrona de espera assim que a avistou. “esta linda, cigno.” o uso do apelido há muito aposentado foi proposital, mas a gentileza falsa servia para os que os observavam — estavam ali primeiramente para manter aparências, ambos. “espero que não se importe, mas eu já comecei com as mimosas.” ergueu a taça quase vazia, colocando-se ao lado da jovem em seguida “agora que minha companhia chegou, acho que podem começar a explicar o que faremos hoje” com o braço repentinamente apoiado nos ombros alheios, ele aproximou o corpo do dela. “estou… ansioso por essa experiência”

[honeyedking]

GAME ONE • THE INTERROGATION_

That his composure was on the verge of shattering was unthinkable. Nicolai simply chose to ignore it, stepping into the interrogation room as if he owned it - a sense of entitlement that he wore like a gilded circlet on his golden head.  “Rather playing too hard into the noir mystery film aesthetic, aren’t we?” Nicolai slipped into the only other available seat, the metal chair ice cold. “I’m assuming once more this is all recorded? Or perhaps we have a live studio audience tonight?” A soft, disarming laugh. Effortless ease written into the script of his character. 

{ ✦ } Where did you last see THE TRAGEDY? Or when did you last hear of THE TRAGEDY?

Nicolai paused, as if scouring his memories for the day of their first meeting (as well as the horrific one that followed.) The cleft between his brows deepened. His soul fractured, as he stared at its broken halves standing across the room from him - Odelia, Mazen. And even those that did not own parts of him, threads of familiarity still binding them together. Sarai - she'd been a thorn in his side for years, but would their verbal blows evolve into something deadlier? Lachlan, Cassiel - boyhood companions, their paths a mess of crossed lines, at first diverging now carelessly entangled. Milo - an unexpected, quiet friendship built on the sacred quiet of late library study nights. Vincent - perfection given blood and bone, skin and sinew. Nicolai's nails bit crescent moons onto his palm. He hadn't expected him, for what could he even want, wish for, that was not already his to have, to keep? Yet the irony was not lost on Nicolai - yet again, Vincent stood leagues in front of him on the same grueling track; a pace he could never match, a boy he could never surpass. Another memory played, unbidden. Almost a year ago. A clasp on his shoulder, genuine remorse and concern written in the downturned tilt of his mouth - Nicolai realized he'd rarely ever seen Vincent frown, in all their years of knowing. It was Nicolai's first foray back into high society after news of his family's brutal fall spread like wildfire. He'd underestimated the commotion his presence would cause, like an untried fool. Vincent had taken one look at him, stiff and frozen at the entranceway, before the taller blonde strode forward and placed himself between all the stares and whispers. A solid presence in front of him - not an obstacle, but a shield. “After our first meeting with all the trial participants? No, I didn’t see him again. I perhaps exchanged a word or two with Vince before we all left - just a polite acknowledgement, really. Nothing seemed amiss, but I cannot say I looked too deeply. In my eyes, he seemed his usual, golden self.” Nicolai shook his head, regret a heavy weight on his shoulders. "Perhaps, that was my fault..." A terrible, soft whisper.

{ ✦ } Where were you at time of death of THE TRAGEDY? And what were you doing?

"I was at the University all throughout Saturday, catching up on my course work. I had finished perhaps an hour before the sunset? Just before we were all set to meet." The paper invitation a weight, a brand in his pocket. "I wanted to speak to Odelia before we convened - perhaps I should have taken it as a sign when I couldn't contact her." There were, after all, three things his girlfriend seemed permanently attached to - he, Sarai, and her beloved cellphone. "Later that night, after all the participants saw each other for the first time -" Eyes dark and stormy with painful recollections. "I went to meet with my sisters at their apartment. I have standing dinner plans them every Saturday evening. Since I had to beg off that time, without a proper explanation-" A reproachful look in the interrogator's direction - a look one would offer perhaps an erring subordinate, a silent reminder to 'do better next time.' "I made up for it by bringing them some dessert - a delectable set of mille crêpes, their favorite. I couldn't stay too long however, as I still had to catch up on some work - so I headed to the office after hours." A nonchalant recounting, as Nicolai gave an elegant, dismissive shrug. "Turned in perhaps no more than an hour later - I was at my apartment near Blue Ivy by midnight." Body aching. Soul-tired. "I woke up early on Sunday morning, as per usual, for my daily run around my block. Was about to have brunch when the news of Vincent-" A painful twist of his mouth. "-reached me."

{ ✦ } Who can attest to your alibi?

Nicolai's lips thinned, his first fully genuine show of emotion. He did not want to name them, his beloved sisters, for fear of entangling them in this perilous web. "My driver Sawyer, certainly. He chauffeured me around most of the evening. Also the doorman at my sister's apartment saw me come and go - Bernard, I believe is his name." Nicolai was certain, actually, having made it a point to know who monitored the ins and outs at Vita and Amie's place. "Harrison was night guard on duty at the office and naturally he let us in, but I fear I was the only dedicated employee present during those ungodly hours." A head-shaking sigh, accompanied by a wry smile. "And while I often run alone in the morning, there is no shortage of other joggers in the area - I'm certain you could get a handful of positive IDs. I'm afraid I stand out, after all." An arrogant statement delivered in a matter-of-fact tone, as Nicolai carefully buffed his nails on his suit jacket.

{ ✦ } The SOCIETY requires your verdict on THE TRAGEDY's demise: Was it the calculated hand of murder? The cruel whim of accident? Or the final, desperate act of self-annihilation?

Nicolai did not even need to pause to think, for this one. "Murder." And though he could not fathom any person who would have such cruel, vicious intentions towards Vincent, an act that brutal, that...performative...had to be driven by the darkest, basest of emotions. Or perhaps, the even more frightening possibility - that a psychopath was stalking their shadows, carrying a ledger with their all names written in red.

[drmatildamason]

Under the surface, I hide my nerves and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us Under the surface, the ship doesn't swerve as it heard how big the iceberg is Under the surface, I think about my purpose, can I somehow preserve this? Line up the dominoes, a light wind blows You try to stop it tumbling, but on and on, it goes

- Surface Pressure - Encanto (2021)

[bxllaaddison]

High achiever, don't you see? Baby, nothing comes for free They say I'm a control freak Driven by a greed to succeed Nobody can stop me

Are You Satisfied - MARINA (2010)

[pjxtorres]

Character development task 002 - Penelope Jane Torres.

El remedio que tengo está intenso Va a doler, pero te va a gustar la calentura Ven, agárrate de mi cintura Un poquito 'e fiebre así suda' Que esta noche hacemos travesura

@brooklynextras