dessicant

For a solo and/or "with an NPC" scene.

Who: Jordan and Dessicant
Where: The Supermarket
When: After school

Ditching band practice, avoiding Chance, avoiding home and her parents, trying to figure out who she was and where her life was going Jordan found herself in the magazine section of the supermarket. As she flipped through a Rolling Stone, a woman walked up and started to look at the birthday gift cards behind her. Jordan glanced over at the woman, who was completely unaware that she was there and slowly reached out. The woman was occupied by her search that Jordan probably could have snagged her purse from her cart and walked away, instead she carefully grazed the small of the woman's back with her fingers and pulled a bit of energy from her.

Quickly, Jordan pulled her hand back and turned the page on the magazine barely in time for the woman to turn around and look at the gothic teenager behind her. As if by instinct, she pulled her purse closer to her and grabbed one of the cards before leaving the isle.

Who: Dessicant and Judiel
Where: Judiel's apartment
When: Early afternoon

If Dessicant had, had any say in the matter, he wouldn't have left the apartment today. Not since he'd left in the morning for his usual trip out to the lake to swim and sun, and he'd wound up with more of those damn shadow people following him. They were like nothing else he'd ever seen or heard of, and that made him uncomfortable. The only up-side was, they didn't follow him back inside when he'd retreated irritably back to the apartment.

Except he didn't have a say. Ethan's computer had broken down, the screen flashing blue every time he tried to do something, and Dessicant was the one designated to take it out to the computer repair guy Ethan had looked up in the phone book. After all, running such errands was his job. So he'd walked over-- the guy lived in Tourville, too, but in a different building-- looking over his shoulder the whole way until he got inside the other building, with the massive computer balanced on one more-massive shoulder until he found the right number. Upstairs, of course. He was wheezing by the time he got there.

The demon resituated the computer a little on his shoulder and used the hand not balancing it to knock.

who: eben and buttah, dessicant (still open for a separate thread if anyone wants!)
where: the craft show
when: midday

Who: Rubius and Dessicant
Where: Somewhere center city, a back-way path to Rubius' home from work
When: Mid day

Heading back to work was always such a bore for Rubius, so sometimes he tried to change the path in order to make it more interesting for him. It helped after having such a dreadful day without being able to work on his experiment. It was all dead. Everything was gone. Starting from scratch one, of course. There was one attempt of trying to get one of the others to act as his partner to try and transfer the sample from one dish to another. But... clumsy fool.

Maybe later he wont notice that Rubius had sliced about a 1 mm hole into the back of his protective suit. Whoops. He had better things to attend to anyway...

Who: Dessicant and Peyton
Where: The lakeshore, where the art show had been
When: Morningish

If Dessicant couldn't bask in the sun, he had decided he would at least find someplace chaotic to soak up in place of sunlight. As much as he loved rain, he hated clouds that refused to drop their rain on the waiting world, because if he could not have rain, he at least wanted sun.

Where he wound up, grumbly and chilly and not particularly interested in getting in the water for once, was the now-deserted site of the Art on the Rocks show. There was a lingering vibration of chaos here, the remaining peg holes marring the ground and scuffed up earth from a few hundred people's footsteps, a bit of forgotten litter here and there. It was better than nothing, and so Dessicant took up residence, at least for an hour or two, on a rock overlooking the water.

Who: Dessicant and Jordan
Where: The Art on the Rocks show
When: Late afternoon

The demon was enjoying himself terribly. Crowded places-- that were not blessed to the Beyond and back-- were rife with chaos and easy to disrupt in small ways to make everyone's day a little more miserable. Things like this were exactly what someone of Dessicant's meager cursing ability lived for: when it was important that things run smoothly, one small thing going wrong could cause so much trouble. He'd thrown away three small curses already, one on a tarp peg that decided it didn't want to stay stuck in the ground anymore, one on a stand for some china plates which promptly broke and cracked the hand-painted pottery, and one on the clasp holding up a woven rug which suddenly let go of its burden, letting it flop and fall against the ones next to it. Then he drank in the resulting irritation and chaos like a fine wine, breathing comfortably for the first time in days. Aaah, this was the life....

Who: Dessicant and Rubius
Where: The lakeshore
When: Morning

The bullet-wound was almost healed up, Dessicant thought. It'd been almost a week, or it would be that evening, and things looked to be closing up nicely. There'd be a scar, of course, but Dessicant wasn't exactly a stranger to those. He'd had lingering injuries before, over his long lifetime, he just didn't like them. And now that it was almost healed, he could get to work on finding out just who had done it to him, and whether or not he could get back at them for it....

Or, rather, how soon he could get back at them for it.

Who: Peyton and Dessicant
When: Early morning
Where: Lakeshore

With the news that the town was supposedly safe now... and that school was back in session, Peyton had gotten up early, as she'd been unable to sleep much the night before, regardless. She was tired, but she didn't want to just lay in bed until her alarm went off, so after a few moments of internal debating, she rolled out of bed and changed into a pair of jogging pants and a tank top. She took her iPod with her and after pulling her hair into a ponytail, took off down the quiet street for a jog. It'd been several days since she'd done so... actually she hadn't been out jogging since seeing David as a demon snake. She was telling herself that she wouldn't go near the lakeshore. That she'd just run through town, as depressing and hollow as it looked at the moment. But after a few minutes, she found herself in the direction of the lake, her usual routine. She wasn't planning on running into David. Isaac would kill her if he found out, but luckily, he wouldn't. Because she was just jogging. No intentions, no ulterior motives. Just exercise. Peyton focused on her breathing as she hit her three mile mark and turned to head back down the lake. Her eyes were alert, her heart picking up pace as she neared David's usual spot. She didn't see him yet. Maybe he wouldn't be there, which would be just fine with her. Though maybe she was just a tiny but curious - morbidly so - to see if he'd be there.

Who: Joshua and Dessi
When: mid-day
Where: along the lakeshore

Drunk-sleeping away almost the entire day before made it hard to keep doing it, and Joshua had been up since early morning. He still felt kind of all over the place emotionally, but at least he hadn't cried since his sobby pity-party the day before, right before he passed out, so he was counting that as good. He was thinking about her obsessively, however, and that was not. He'd gotten his phone back from Sean at some point, and sat listlessly around the apartment until he just couldn't anymore, and had gone out for a walk.

In an attempt to distract himself, and to stop punching in long badly-spelled text messages to her only to delete them, Joshua rode his board down toward the lake and then stashed it to walk. It looked like the drizzle-rain was stopping, though that hadn't prevented him going out in it, and he was kind of damp. He didn't care. He paused to snag up another rock and hurl it out into the water, mind grinding on in that unstoppable way it had.

Who: Doc, Kurt, Liadan, Jovie, Dessicant, Seven, Eben, and Evan
Where: Washington Street
When: night

This had officially gone on too long. In Doc's mind, it had been too far with the first death, but he knew that he'd been powerless to stop it at the time. He'd been trapped in the basement of his home, an intangible victim of his own power and the decisions he'd made for Eva's sake. There had been no choice for those first few days but to sit and wait, to listen to Teddybear's status reports and wonder if the twins would get in over their heads. Finally, they had... People were dying and those that were alive were trapped in their fear, resigned to hiding until the plague that had come to town forced them out. But that wouldn't be the case. It was time to do what he'd made a life out of, to cleanse this place the only way he knew how.

Who: Derek and Dessicant
Where: Outside the Wooden Nickel
When: Evening

Derek was used to having to leave places to smoke so in habit he left the bar, which could only be classified as a ‘dive bar’ for a quick cigarette. He chuckled to himself thinking of what his stock holders would think to see him leaving such a place. It would probably some big scandal that would turn into him having a mythological drinking problem or even worse, a drug problem. Then his board of directors would insist that he check himself into a rehab center to deal with his ‘problems’, when in fact he hadn’t had a drink all night and had already tried most drugs and found them boring. Of course no one would even believe the -real- reason he was there. Gossip.

Derek leaned up against the side of the building and pulled his pack of reds from the pocket of his jeans and his lighter. He’d dressed down for his night out, not wanting to attract too much attention. However, those with a keen eye for fashion would know that even though he didn’t look like a rich business man, everything he wore was still a designer label. Pulling out a stick he set it caringly between his lips and lit it with the small flame from the lighter. Leaned his head back, letting out the stream of smoke from his first drag, watching the sky start to slowly let go of its tears again. It was almost as if it wasn’t crying, but sweating.

Who: Peyton and Dessicant
Where: Lakeshore
When: 6:30amish

It was still incredibly early by the time Peyton left the house to start her run before getting ready for school. She didn't have her iPod today, as she'd given it to Herbert to borrow for awhile, so she just attempted to sing in her head rather than let her mind wander. The sun was barely rising, and the morning was cool. She had a feeling summer was almost over which made her a bit sad, and at the same time, relieved. She'd had a great summer, seeing her mom, coming home, Isaac...the last couple of weeks had sucked hardcore, but maybe with the passing season, things might get better. Wishful thinking, sure, but the hope was there. As per her usual routine, after she hit the three mile mark and reached the lake, she slowed down to rest. Hands on her hips, she walked along the water's edge, taking in deep breaths to calm her heart rate. The breeze from the water felt good. Calming. It felt like, for a moment, that she was the only person in the world. No worries. No confusion. Just her, and a beach. The rest of the world seemed distant. And she was embracing that for the moment.

Unfortunately for Peyton, she wasn't the only person in the world, and even more unfortunately, she was earlier than usual. The other person sharing her beach wasn't expecting her for another couple minutes-- if, given the impending rain, he was expecting her at all. Dessicant was just finishing drying the lakewater from his scales after a quick swim, catching what little sun there was to catch before the clouds darkened even further. Whether it was his recent meal-- which, given he only ate once every fifteen months or so, was definitely still digesting and dispersing throughout his serpent form and slowly preparing to add inches; maybe even a foot-- or the early hour or the chill making him sluggish or just karma making up for his evening before, he didn't notice Peyton coming. He was too busy gnawing carefully at a feather that was trying to shed itself but didn't quite want to come out, coils bunched together across the sand. At least compact, he stood a little less chance of being spotted.

Who: Dessicant and Geo
Where: Fenton's Music
When: Evening

After a decent end to the carnival affair, Dessicant decided he could stand a treat to make up for dealing with blessings all over town for days now. And since he'd had such a delectable meal so recently, he could afford to spend on music rather than snacks. Music was cheaper, anyway, and lasted longer. He was starting to get quite a collection, which was ironic given he really didn't hear half of it when it was playing.

Who: Dessicant and Linn
When: Tuesday, early evening
Where: Just inside the carnival grounds.

Bundled up in his dark blue hoodie, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets, Linn felt pretty cozy. The outside air, after all, was pretty cold. But he could swear he smelled hot chocolate, and that was tempting him something awful, even if sugar was a bad idea because of wrestling. Plus, without his usual entourage of siblings with him, he could get something tasty without having to buy it for the rest of them, too. Definitely a good thing. He wandered to the edge of the carnival grounds, looking for a booth that might be selling something warm and creamy, and most importantly of all, sweet.

The blessing on the carnival grounds-- and high school, and college; who the hell had time and energy for such strong blessings on three damn places?-- was fading. Slowly but surely. Dessicant was prowling around the edges of it, not tempting fate by actually encroaching on it, but testing it, pacing the edges of it like a cat stalking the edges of the water as it slowly receded.

Who: Peyton and Dessicant
When: Early morning
Where: Lakeshore

Peyton was quickly realizing that the best way to get away from the weirdness was to immerse herself into things that would effectively distract her. She found if she stayed home, she ended up thinking way too much. And thinking brought worry, and worry stress and stress...well, she wasn't a big fan of it. The little things helped. Talking to people about anything insignificant. Everything insignificant. Playing her music on the piano. Playing music in her bedroom, singing along in her head. Anything to keep her mind occupied. Distractions kept her from wanting to cry, or panic. It kept her from wanting to call Isaac just to hear his voice, which may not have been a bad thing if she knew for sure he would appreciate it. He needed distraction and help much more than she did and she knew he didn't need her to be bugging him all day long. Of course, that didn't stop her from missing him, or worrying about him. That was part of the problem. And so, she left the house early to go for a run, music playing loudly in her ears. She focused on the melody, the lyrics, rather than allowing her mind to wander. Every time she felt herself starting to think about the things that made her stomach hurt, she picked up the pace, trying to stay focused on her breathing. By the time she hit the third mile on the lakeshore, she was sweaty and felt the muscles in her legs aching. Slowing down, she bent over, hands on her knees to inhale deeply.

Dessicant was actually dozing in the sun that morning-- human form, luckily for him, and actually clothed. He'd had that much sense before he gave in to the urge to sleep, out in the open, in the sun. Because he was "safe" in that way, he didn't even stir at Peyton's approach, stretched out on his back in the sand, bare feet crossed at the ankles and hands tucked behind his head. It was a bright, sunny day: might as well take advantage of that, right?

Who: Dessicant and Mike
Where: Mike's hotel
When: Late morning

Ethan had finally succeeded in kicking a sluggish Dessicant out of the apartment for a few hours. He'd utterly failed at it the day before-- after being forced to change and work so soon after feeding, to get Manhattan out of the damn hotel room two nights ago, he'd needed to spend all of Thursday sleeping-- but today, since his demonic meal was at least partially digested, he was merely lethargic, full, and as content as a demon ever got.

Something Ethan had said was sticking with him, though... something about the musician being out of town for the weekend for a concert-- visiting one, not playing one. Weekend. It was weekend. Which meant it was Friday. Which meant... something. There was something he needed to remember about Friday, except it was taking an awfully long time to come around to his brain in any form he could put a feather on. Succubus tended to do that to him. Maybe another reason he liked them so much. Hmm.

It was when he was wandering past Nevermore that he remembered. Mike. Mike was leaving Marquette on Friday, which meant he needed his damn book before the psychic disappeared on him. Dessicant fished out his phone and hit the number for Mike's cell.

Who: Dessicant and Manhattan
Where: The Ice Arena, then Venture Motel
When: Just after sundown

Again, Dessicant was early, very very early. He stood in the drizzle of the evening and watched the carnival slowly putting itself together-- it was almost done-- and occasionally, when someone passed close enough, amused himself by cursing something of theirs. Nothing too damaging or life-changing, unfortunately; he'd lost that talent a long time ago. But small, annoying things. A hammer dangling from a tool belt would, for the next few hours, hit thumbs more than nails. A drill bit would miss the head of the screw two times out of three. The button to activate and shut down a ride, for testing sequences, would stick in one position or the other.

Hey, it passed the time.

Who: Dessicant and Manhattan
Where: A bar in Ishpemig
When: A little before 11AM

Dessicant was early for his meeting with Manhattan. Very early, in fact. Truth be told, the prospect of getting a meal himself-- and a succubus, if he was right about her; by the pits, those were some tasty demons-- had him restless. He'd wanted to be out of town for this meeting well before his idiot employer might actually want him for something, so he was waiting inside before Manhattan even bothered to get there, by ten at the latest. Whenever she deigned to show up-- probably early as well, knowing her-- she'd find him parked in the back of the room with an untouched whiskey and am impatient expression on his face.

She was early, though not arriving at their designated meeting place as early as the demon had, Manhattan still arrived a few ticks before the clock hit the stroke of 11. Leaving her truck parked in the closest spot she could find near the bar's entrance, the hunter locked it up tight and took the short path to the door.

Not being all that big of a place it didn't take Manhattan long to locate Dessi once she stepped inside the establishment and her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit and slightly smoke filled interior. Still being morning the hunter got herself a cup of black coffee before trekking toward the back where she spotted Dessi sitting.

"Glad to see you made it on time." Manhattan said sourly as she settled in at his table.

Who: Dessicant, calling for Manhattan
When: 3:34PM

Hello, miss Manhattan. Are you still vehemently against hunting in your own backyard, or can I tempt you with news of a young succubus who has taken up residence in Marquette? We would, of course, share the spoils as much as is possible. Let me know, and we can plan an outing.

Who: Dessicant and Mike
Where: The phone
When: Late morning

Dessicant stood outside Arcadia with a scowl on his face and his phone in his hand, the former not unusual but the latter a little different. He glared at the door between dialing, confused and no little irritated. He put the phone to his ear and waited for Mike to pick up.

Mike had gotten his things together to be ready to leave Marquette - which, since he was so organized and didn't have all that much with him, had only taken about five minutes - and had decided to put in a bit more work on his Tarot algebra before going out to Nevermore. He'd finished transcribing that nightmare of a journal a couple of days ago and had found it even more useful than he'd thought before. He was closing in on the general shape of what he wanted and starting to think ahead to working out details.

He was deeply absorbed in his work when his cell phone rang, and he glared at it in deep resentment for a moment before flipping it open (still too far gone to check the Caller ID) and saying, "What?"

Who: Dessicant and Mike
Where: Outside Babylon
When: Mid-morning

Since Babylon was the place both of them new how to find, Babylon seemed the best place to meet Mike for their non-violent form of demon-hunting. Dessicant waited outside, leaning against the wall next to the door; Mike wasn't inside, he'd checked, and he'd rather wait somewhere where he didn't need earplugs just to stay focused.

Because today? He wanted to stay focused. A new demon in town, without a brother to take revenge, young and without experience, was the best thing that'd happened since he'd met Mike. Hothrem would get his dinner and Dessicant would get his peace, at least for a while. So the demon was early, and waited with barely-contained impatience and anticipation.

Who: Dessicant and Chloe
Where: Lake Superior
When: 8AMish

It was a good morning. Breezy, which was nice, not too hot but not cold at all. The air tasted clean with a hint of rain in the distance, but not close enough for comfort. He had his morning free-- his idiot employer was going to be out until noon, since he had been up until all hours of the night playing-- so he could go hunting with Mike. Best of all, though, it was a school day. So there was no Peyton Marsh running down the beach to intercept him.

Not that he really minded, since she was amusing and a fun object of the random curse now and then. But too much of her meant too much nice, and that just ruined his whole day.

That morning, though, Dessicant had left the lakeshore without interruption. He had gotten all the way out to the cold, deep middle of the lake before settling himself just below the waves and just... floated, the tip of his nose and part of his spread frill above-water so he could breathe but the rest happily submerged. With an expected good day ahead of him, he could relax a bit until he tackled it.

Who: Dessicant and Mike
Where: Babylon
When: Around 5PM

It seemed that Ethan had figured out exactly when Dessicant wanted to be somewhere else, and made sure he was needed at home or on some errand of his own. He'd had all morning to himself, which was a waste because his intended destination, Nevermore, had been closed, but as soon as two came around and Mike would be at Babylon, the phone had buzzed in his pocket and he was off catering to the whims of his idiot employer.

Who: Peyton and Dessicant
Where: Lakeshore
When: 7am

It took Peyton awhile to roll out of bed when her alarm went off. The effects of drinking a few beers and making out with her boyfriend until the wee hours of the morning took a toll on her sleeping schedule, but she was determined not to waste a whole Sunday in bed. Forcing herself up, she turned off her alarm and changed, muffling several yawns behind her palm. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she wandered downstairs to where Tyler was still curled up on the recliner, snoring loudly. She grabbed a trash bag, several actually, and began the tedious task of picking up the plastic cups scattered about the house. It took about an hour to do everything, including running the dishwasher, taking out the trash and scrubbing a few stains off of the carpet. If Tyler wasn't awake by the time she got home, she'd wake him up to get rid of the kegs and few bodies still sleeping on the couch and floor.

Yawning again, she slipped her earphones in and left the house. Per her usual routine, she jogged toward the lakeshore, feeling a bit more sluggish than usual. But she didn't stop once. At least not until she hit the third mile mark. It was then she slowed down and turned to walk a few minutes along the water. Eventually she knew she would get to the point where she could just run non-stop without the break. Maybe if she just pushed herself a bit further. Maybe she could join track or something this year...do something actually worthwhile in school rather than just showing up.