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City of Mist: Sad, Sad Situations

Dice System


A Very Good Boy
A Day in the Life

"-got some rain, some wind. All in all, today is not sounding very pleasant is it, Tom?"

"That it is not, Sheila, but let me tell you later this evening it's going to be absolutely gorgeous. The clouds are going to hitch a ride down south far, far from Elton and we are going to see some sunshine. We're going to see highs of 53 degrees, which isn't too bad for a Monday like this one."

"Well, I suppose every cloud has a silver lining after all."

"I suppose you're right, Sheila."

It's noon, and every gray cloud above the city seems content to pour their big, heavy buckets of rain down on every Tom, Dick, and Jenny trying to get from one place to the next. And if being pelted wasn't bad enough, the wind was blowing so hard it was practically whipping you in the face. It took one poor kid all his might trying to walk against the immovable force that was the wind. He'd decided to run back home and get something when this poor weather started, and now he was going to show up back to school sopping wet and fifteen minutes late, at least.

It's 12 o'clock, it's pissing rain and there isn't an inch of sky or sun to be seen. At this moment in time, what is it that you are doing?

@AmongFoxesAndWolves @Felix @Kmbrly @Corvid15 @Young_Charles99 @DreamingBlackbird @Farrah


Dancing among the faeries
In the teacher’s lounge of Paul Simon Regional High School, Aurora Callahan was marking quizzes. She had a chair pulled up by the window, her colourful appearance contrasting the rain and gloom outside. She nibbled on her pen, brow furrowing as she wondered how some of her students got such wrong answers.

On the table in front of her, safely away from the papers, Aurora had a mug of fresh, Earl Grey tea and a blueberry muffin. She picked the mug up, which was bright green with a bundle of lavender painted along the bottom. A random gift from her mother, and one of her favourite mugs.

She turned to her coworkers, who were enjoying their break too, and chuckled.

“I’m looking forward to the weekend. Fingers crossed the weather isn’t this miserable.”

Aurora tugged the sleeves of her yellow cardigan over her knuckles, eyes drawn back to the weather outside.


A Very Good Boy
One of Ms. Callahan's coworkers, Mr. Denvers who taught history, gave a wry smile. "With any luck, we'll get a hurricane and have to close the school for a few days." It was always hard to tell if Tim Denvers was joking, mainly because his voice never seemed to carry a lot of emotion. What was most interesting about him, however, wasn't his monotone voice or even his 'I REALLY WISH I WEREN'T HERE RIGHT NOW' coffee mug.

The most interesting thing about him, that no one ever seemed to notice, was the faint, translucent aura that seemed to come off of him. It was like steam, a dull green fog billowing all around him but never seeming to travel too far from his body. And yet nobody ever noticed. Nobody except Aurora Callahan, of course.

"Though we're already two chapters behind where we should be in the textbook... What's so hard about just doing the work and handing it in when you're supposed to?" The other teachers in the lounge nodded their heads and chimed in in agreement, like a flock of birds tweeting in unison, only louder and sounding more irritated than cheerful.



Dancing among the faeries
“Don’t be too hard on them. We were all reluctant students once.”
Aurora waved a hand in the air, distractedly. She wondered about Tim and the aura around him, about how he became a spirit. She shook her head, reminding herself that it wasn’t her place.

“But a break would be nice. I don’t think I’ve slept properly since school started up again. It’s ridiculous.”


Behind that Crazy Premise
Missing. Robbed. Accident. As always, Joe was skimming over the newspaper articles of local crimes and accidents in the city and noting interesting leads and thoughts. Once upon a time, he had been in the newspaper himself, never under his name, but only asking citizens to come forth with information or when they apprehended one of the culprits. He was itching to go to the station, but it was one of his senior days and they had not arranged daycare for Martha.

He put the newspaper down as Martha was helped into the kitchen guided by her niece.

"There you go auntie. Is this comfortable? You go and eat your food now, okay?" Maria sat down his wife in front of him. Joe had just prepared some sandwiches for their lunch, as he didn't know how to prepare much else.

"Yes, thank you dear." Martha answered.

"but really, thank you." Joe wanted to stress their gratitude. Maria was such a blessing. They were so lucky to have a nurse in the family and Maria had always felt as close as a daughter would have, since Joe and Martha did not have children of their own. He did not know what they would have done without her.

"Don't mention it, you have always been very kind to me as well and now I can finally repay the favor. I should be going now though, my shift at the hospital will start soon. Will you be alright today?"

"I think we will be alright. We haven't really planned anything today." Joe responded.

"Look! I was knitting a sweater for your lovely Aurora. I hope it will be done today!" Martha proudly showed her knitting. Joe and Maria both had a sad look in their eyes, but Martha was too enthusiastic to notice. The sweater was clearly meant for a girl in her early teens, but Aurora had already become a fine young lady.

"I think she will love it," Maria lied. Sometimes it was better to keep her in ignorant bliss than to make her upset. They would find someone else who would be truly happy with the sweater. "Joe can I have a word in private before you go?"

Joe got up and walked with her to the front door.

"Look Joe, I know you don't want to hear this, but she is getting worse." Her green eyes were strict, but also emphatic. Deep down Joe knew she was right, but he wasn't ready to admit it. "Did you have a look at those brochures I gave you?"

"Yes" He lied. They were still in the cabinet. Joe had planned to look at them, but every time he saw those pictures of smiling elderly, all he could see was Martha's empty look. Her normally vibrant green eyes looked dull and missed that sparkle of familiarity and recognition. It made him incredibly sad.

"Please Joe, have a look at them. There are some places that are genuinely nice and can give her the care she needs."

"Yeah, you are probably right." He said with a defeated tone.

"You take care now. I'll be back tomorrow."

As Maria walked out the door Joe went back into the kitchen, where his wife had still not touched the food.

"Who was at the door?"

"No one, dear."

He sat in front of her and they started eating.


A Very Good Boy
"Yeah, not me. I got straight A's in high school." Mr. Denver's proceeded to sip from his appropriate, yet equally inappropriate, mug full of black coffee. Mrs. Caroline, the drama teacher, was sitting across from Aurora, looking quite happy as always. "So Aurora, will you be coming to the play tomorrow night? It's an anthology, my students wrote it themselves. I think they've done an amazing job this year!"

Of course, this wouldn't have been the first time Aurora had heard about the play. It was all Mrs. Caroline had been talking about for the past month. She had sent tickets to everyone in the faculty, badgering every teacher she came across to see if they were attending.


Dancing among the faeries
“So did I, but I also slacked off once or twice. It happens to the best of us.”

Aurora barely yanked her attention from Denvers to Caroline, her lips turned up in a half-smile. She had never really been a big fan of plays, especially not high school productions, but she loved supporting the students.

“I’ll be there. Unless something comes up, of course. I’m looking forward to seeing how well they did. I can only imagine how nervous they’d be.”

Aurora grinned, the corners of her vibrant green eyes crinkling.

“And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Rory. Aurora feels so...fancy. Which isn’t very me.”


A Very Good Boy
Right as Joe was about to start digging in, the phone on the kitchen counter began to ring, as it always seemed to do around lunchtime. Telemarketers, usually. But on occasion it would be one of Joe's friends from the force or a friend of Martha's wanting to check in and see how she was doing.

"Call from: Seven Zero Seven Five Five Four Six-" wailed the phone base's speaker, an annoying feature where it would say aloud the name or number of however had decided to grace the old detective with their conversation. "-Three Six Nine." The phone continued to ring, as it often did when no one picked up the phone, and would carry on doing so until the caller gave up or until someone answered. Whichever came first.


A Very Good Boy
"Oh, they get nervous before every performance. But they need that feeling, you know?" Mrs. Caroline clasped Aurora's hands in hers and gave them a light squeeze. "Thank you so much for coming, though! I think they'll really appreciate it! Besides myself, of course," she started, jokingly, "You're one of the most well-liked teachers in the school. They'll be really excited to see you there supporting them!"

It was true, Ms. Callahan was indeed one of the most popular teachers at Paul Simon High. A lot of freshmen who were lucky enough to get her would often take her Biology course in the later years and a lot of students would often stop her just to chat if they ever saw her outside of school. Some kids even joined her courses after hearing all the praise other students would give her, although sometimes their grades would suffer for it, thinking the class would be an easy grade.

The sudden ringing of the bell let everyone in the school know that lunch was over. It was time for everyone to get back to work. "I really hope you can make it!" Mrs. Caroline said as she exited the teacher's lounge with a handful of the others. Some teachers stayed behind as they didn't have any classes to teach until later. As Aurora lingered in the lounge, she would notice the distinct pitter-patter of rain had come to a stop and some much-needed sunlight was poking through the clouds to give the biology teacher a bit of welcome warmth.


Behind that Crazy Premise
"Shouldn't you get that? Maybe there was a break in your case." Martha said. He was not involved in any active case, but he probably had to answer the phone anyways.

"Yeah," Joe said with a mouth full. He swallowed it down and got up. "You behave while I get that." He winked and Martha chuckled.

He got up and picked up the phone. "Hello, this is Joe Moneta speaking."



A Very Good Boy
"Hey hey, Joe! It's Artie!" Artie, one of the older cops in the station. Old like, he's been there a long while, but he's still plenty old himself. Him and Joe would work cases every now and then, back when Joe was on the force. Artie is friendly enough, but he's the kind of friendly where sometimes it just gets on people's nerves. "How's it going? How's the wife doing?"


Behind that Crazy Premise
"Oh, hey Artie. I wasn't expecting you. Martha is alright, same old, same old. She is still knitting sweater after sweater, but at least she still knows how to, you know? Maria is worried she is getting ... ehm ... getting better, but enough about that. How have you been? And did you just call to catch up, or was there something else?"


A Very Good Boy
Artie gives his little chuckle, the same one everyone in the station makes fun of when he's out of earshot. It sounds something like a pig with the hiccups squealing. Not all too pleasant to listen to. "What's to worry about? If you've got nothing to do but knit all day you might as well get good at it. Hell, send me a sweater or two! My kid could use something embarrassing to wear!"

The laughing continues for perhaps a second too long before Artie calms down. "Anyway, I'm doing good yeah. Well, I do have a little problem. My kid got me a ticket to go see this play they're doing at school tomorrow and I can't take it off. I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go instead? I figured it might take your mind off things for a little while." Chances were that Artie had bought the ticket himself just to give to Joe, his way of being nice without admitting he did something nice. "So, do you think you'd be interested? It's supposed to be a sequel or something for the Phantom of the Opera."


Behind that Crazy Premise
Joe was really annoyed. No one got to talk shit about his wife, only he could, and he was not even serious about it. He ran his hand over the knitted sweater he was wearing. Besides,she was pretty good.

"So you are trying to wiggle yourself out of your responsibilities once again, eh? I am sure your kid will be very disappointed if you don't show up." He did not really feel like going to this children's play, but he knew Martha would love it. He would go just to see her smile. He looked at her taking a bite from her sandwich. "That said, I would love to go, but I can't leave Martha home alone. Can you get me a second ticket, so we can enjoy the night together?"


A Very Good Boy
"Yeah, of course! I'll text my boy Jason and tell him to buy another ticket before he gets back from school. He told me they still had a few tickets left for sa-" Click. The dial tone goes off. Artie must have hung up by accident. Ah well, regardless, it sounds like he's going to grab an extra ticket for Martha. All's well that ends well.


Behind that Crazy Premise
See, this is why they still had a landline, those smartphones sometimes just didn't do what you wanted them too. He put the phone back.

"Who was that?" Martha asked.

"It was Artie."

"I hope there are no troubles in your case."

"No don't worry, he called to invite us to a play tomorrow night. How does that sound?"

"Sounds wonderful. You should thank the lad for me. It will be so nice to get out of the house for a bit."

Joe couldn't help, but agree. He sat down again and continued his lunch.


A Very Good Boy
Just as Joe was about to tear into his delicious sandwich, the phone went off again. "Call from: Seven Zero Seven Five Five Four Six-"

Artie again. Picking up the phone, Joe hears the sweet dulcet tones of Artie's gravelly voice. "Sorry, I hung up on accident! Anyway, I'll get Jason to get an extra ticket for Martha! Have a good one!" Click. Putting the phone back, our retired detective goes to pull out his chair and sit down for lunch.

Then the phone rings. Again. "Call from: Seven Zero Seven Nine-"

Answering the phone, you are immediately greeted by a man with an Indian accent by the name of Steve. "Hello, this is Steve calling from Bowiebank. It would appear that there some suspicious activity has been reported in relation to your Bowiebank debit card. And so we have put your funds on hold while we attempt to resolve this problem. To do so, I will first need the number of your credit card of choice, the three digits on the back and the experiation date-"

Click. This time it was Joe who hung up. Today was the third day in a row 'Steve' has tried to get his credit card info. And in his heart of hearts, Joe knew it wouldn't be the last. As the sun began to peek through the clouds, it shined its light down through the kitchen window onto Joe and Martha's dinner to bless their dinner.

Good day sunshine!


Happy kid
Calypso continued checking her students' artworks and typing the scores on her laptop, her favorite daily routine. Unending emails from the school principal pop up every now and then, emails in which she constantly ignores, and opens it hours after it was sent. She's lucky if those emails would actually stop and she would have the time to salvage her sanity.

Droplets can be seen trickling down her window, and aggressively pitter-pattered above. The rain outside poured down over the city with a frightening roar. Sadly, her apartment couldn't protect her from this cold climate, her heater's broken, and no one would come and fix it until next week, she only has her handmade Christmas sweater to keep her warm.


The sound of her microwave filled her apartment catching her full attention, her microwave's light turned green alerting her that her saviors ready. It was the pizza she ordered two days ago, its the last three pieces from her favorite "the jumbo-sized overload pizza". It's from the pizza place not far from her apartment, and its always delivered by her lovely neighbor Andrea. She quickly retrieved her pizza and plopped back down on her workspace, she then placed the artworks safely inside her desk cabinet away from the greasy food. With no time left to waste, she munched away in delight.
On any other day, Andrea would have taken comfort in the rain. She liked to watch it on her apartment window as it poured down on Elton City, listening to its pitter-patter and relaxing in its cold. Today, however, the rain was nothing but a detriment. It pelted at her jacket, the droplets seeping through her clothes and leaving her soaked as she drove through city traffic. The downpour had come unannounced while she was in the middle of a delivery, its accompanying wind forcing Andrea to slow the motorcycle--and consequently the delivery--down.

Thankfully, her destination wasn't too far ahead. Turning the motorcycle to the left, Andrea eventually found herself in the more suburban parts of the city--subtly clad in its neatly-trimmed lawns and lined-up trees, yet still having a small pinch of concrete jungle. She'd been to this area a few times already, although the order came from an address she'd never delivered to before. Not that it mattered that much--the only customer she could fully remember was her next-door neighbor, Calypso, and that was because the woman ordered with such frequency. Her, and a doctor named Helena who liked ordering in bulk.

Overhead, grey clouds continued their downpour as Andrea slowed her vehicle to a stop. Not wasting any time, she opened the hotbag strapped to the back of her motorcycle, grabbing the pizza box and running as fast as she could to the front porch of the designated house. A few raindrops have left their mark on the box, along with Andrea's wet hands, but nonetheless it seemed pretty intact and heated. Taking a few moments to catch her breath, Andrea then reached out an elbow to the house's doorbell.

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A Very Good Boy
As Calypso was enjoying her fairly greasy slices of pizza, a notification popped up in the bottom right-hand corner of her computer's desktop. An email from the principal titled 'URGENT!" It probably wasn't nearly as urgent as the bold lettering may have implied. The principal's, Mr. Croce's, caps lock had been broken on his laptop for the past year and a half now. The message wasn't anything new to Calypso, just a reminder that Paul Simon's Regional High School's play was tomorrow.

Though there were some suggestive themes, Mr. Croce had deemed it appropriate enough that the entirety of Judas Priest's Middle School attend, including Ms. Domingo's kindergarten class. Her job would be to make sure that her children stay in their seats and keep their voices down to a minimum, if possible. Truly a daunting task.

Almost as soon as Andrea presses the doorbell, a man wearing a spotless, sleeveless white undershirt opens the door. He stands almost six feet tall with well-toned muscles and a stubble beard. His face wears a serious expression, like a bouncer about to toss some poor drunk out during happy hour. "How much do I owe ya?" he asks in a gruff, straight to business voice. Obviously someone wasn't paying attention when they were told the total over the phone.
"That'd be twelve dollars and twenty-five cents, sir." Andrea answers, forcing a smile on her face. No good was going to come out from showing exasperation, especially towards the man in front of her right now. He didn't seem like the type someone would risk angering. Lightly tapping a foot on the floor, Andrea waits for the man to pay.



A Very Good Boy
The man digs into his pocket and pulls out exactly twelve dollars and twenty-five cents as if that was all he had in his pocket. He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin in a way that reminded you of when you were trying to figure out why your motorcycle was making that rattling noise last week. He reaches into his pocket again and this time pulls out a five-dollar bill. "Your tip," he says bluntly. Not much of a conversationalist this guy. "Anything else," he asks, arms folded, the fingers on his right hand drumming against his biceps.
Andrea accepts the bills, giving the man a grateful look as she unzips the small pack on her side and places the money in. "Thanks," she says, smile still on her face. It would most definitely last up until the moment she'll have her back turned on him and towards her motorcycle. Eventually, she stretches an arm to hand the box over to the man, "Nope, that'd be all sir," she says, taking one small step backwards to see if the man had anything else to say. The sooner she was out of here, the better. "Enjoy your pizza!" she would say if there was nothing else left to do. The phrase was something of a finality, words that she used almost too often during deliveries. Today was no exception.


A Very Good Boy
The man takes the pizza and steps back into the house. You both stand there for a short while, examining each other's faces. "Until the next time, Ms. Caine." Then the door shuts. Normally, having a complete stranger ominously address you by your last name before backing into their house would be a total mindfreak. However, in Andrea's case, it might as well have never happened.

As the door closes on her face, she almost instantly forgets what the man had just said to her, and shortly after that, she forgets what he looked like all together. It was like when you'd just thought of something brilliant but you get distracted and lose your train of thought. It was just another thought to be forgotten. All she could remember is that she delivered the pizza to some rude guy who actually gave her a not-so-bad tip. As she began walking down the steps back to her motorcycle, she sees a ticket for a play in her hand.

Paul Simon High's: 'The Phantom'
Admittance One


A Very Good Boy
CoM Castle.PNGWith the clouds having parted and the sun shining bright, the city of Elton looks like a shimmering jewel from way up high. One might even think that they could see clearly, now that the rain was gone. They would be wrong. Though they could see the vast endless sky, they were still blind to the true world that was all around them. An all-encompassing mist shrouded their minds and turned their heads away from what it didn't want them to see. But perhaps it was for the best? Only time would tell if mankind would thrive or suffer under the unfeeling tyranny of the fog.

There were those among them, however, whose minds were beginning to clear.

A lonely man sits alone in a restaurant, feared, revered, and undisturbed. For he is the lord and master of his realm and soon his power will spread like a cancer throughout the entire city, claiming all who still draw breath.

Another man plays the organ in a great hall, his music is haunting but the people can't turn away. They don't want to miss even a single note of their own requiem.

A young woman walks through the streets of Elton, everything she owns sitting unorganized in an oversized backpack. She is not from here, but everywhere she goes she makes friends. Sadly, not all make it home by the end of their celebrations.

Three young adults sit on park steps, gossiping about the latest styles and the who's who of Elton. A fourth sits with them, listening to their conversation with bemusement. They could hold on to whatever childish amusements they liked, but he knew that soon they would lose everything, just as he had already.

One older man sits in a lab, watching a mouse scurry inside a cage, his fingers laced together. He holds the cure, he knows he does. He just needs to make it work. He can make it work. He just needs more time.

Though their minds were open, none of them were cursed with the truth that one man had come to know. This man sat, surrounded by screens, windows to the city that would allow him to see all that transpired throughout his jurisdiction. So he sat, unblinking, fixated on the screens. The only time he'd allow himself some respite, was to eat a slice of greasy pizza that he felt he may have tipped too much for. Truly, these were-

Sad, Sad Situations

The next day, whatever your reasons, you arrived at Paul Simon Regional High School. There was some time before the play would start and mostly everyone was standing either outside chatting or in the main foyer of the school... chatting. Near the entrance to the gymnasium was a table where shirts were being sold, "I Saw The Phantom" in bold white letters with a picture of a half mask beneath them, all on a black t-shirt. Though you didn't know most of the people here, there were some you might have recognized. The biology teacher, Aurora Callahan, or the retired police detective, Joe Moneta with his wife in hand. The kindergarten teacher, trying desperately to keep her children under control, Calypso Mae. The pizza delivery girl, Andrea Caine, or Dr. Helena E. Fleischer, the pharmaceutical expert.

@DreamingBlackbird @Kmbrly @Felix @AmongFoxesAndWolves @Corvid15

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