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voicemails etc.
Jun. 3rd, 2020 05:56 pmHey, it's Delsin! Leave a message after the whatever-it's-called.
Delsin is nervous. He's not sure he's ever been this nervous in his life. Not when he'd climbed the Space Needle to take on the Dupes. Not when he'd had to chase down Fetch and Eugene to get their powers. Not even when he'd faced off against Augustine at the bitter end. Maybe when he'd first gotten his powers — but he'd recovered from that quickly enough. He doesn't know if he'll recover as easily from this. This is way bigger than that. This is way bigger than anything he's ever done.
This . . . is a date.
He's pretty sure he's never been on a real date before. So, naturally, he'd panicked and texted Emma at length about what flowers to get — he'd read online that flowers were a bad idea, but he's not just going to not get her flowers. Liz is important to him. He wants to show that to her. So, screw the internet: flowers it is. But not roses, because Emma had said no roses. Roses are too big, she'd said. Roses mean too much so soon. So, Delsin had gone down to the flower stall not far from Dimera and looked at what they had. Get something that reminds you of her, Emma had said. He'd seen some pretty, pink roses, partly bloomed, that he'd seriously considered. Instead, he's got a mixed bouquet of purple and cream wildflowers, wrapped in parchment paper and tied with a purple bow. Get something that reminds you of her, Emma had said.
These feel pretty right.
With flowers accomplished, Delsin leaves his apartment and hits the sidewalk. He feels a little awkward in his outfit. It's not his usual look, but he wants to look nice for her. He'd gone for a sort of dressed-up-dressed-down style: a dark red button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up; a light, cream-colored button-up vest (the clerk had called it a waistcoat, but Delsin isn't that fancy); black slim-fit jeans, and his usual sneakers. He doesn't have any nice shoes, and he hadn't liked any of the ones he'd seen when he'd gotten the vest, so he hopes she doesn't mind. At least he's not wearing his beanie. Tonight, his hair is lightly styled, pushed back off his forehead. It actually makes him look his age.
He wonders what Reggie would think about all of this. Going on a date. Having a job. Being mature. He wonders if he'd be proud, or skeptical.
Delsin takes a deep breath and lets it out a little shakily. He can do this. He can totally do this. He walks up nervously to the Bramford Building and looks for the right buzzer to press. He bites his lip, then taps out 'Shave and a Haircut' on it. The flat, tuneless beat feels loud in the close stoop.
This . . . is a date.
He's pretty sure he's never been on a real date before. So, naturally, he'd panicked and texted Emma at length about what flowers to get — he'd read online that flowers were a bad idea, but he's not just going to not get her flowers. Liz is important to him. He wants to show that to her. So, screw the internet: flowers it is. But not roses, because Emma had said no roses. Roses are too big, she'd said. Roses mean too much so soon. So, Delsin had gone down to the flower stall not far from Dimera and looked at what they had. Get something that reminds you of her, Emma had said. He'd seen some pretty, pink roses, partly bloomed, that he'd seriously considered. Instead, he's got a mixed bouquet of purple and cream wildflowers, wrapped in parchment paper and tied with a purple bow. Get something that reminds you of her, Emma had said.
These feel pretty right.
With flowers accomplished, Delsin leaves his apartment and hits the sidewalk. He feels a little awkward in his outfit. It's not his usual look, but he wants to look nice for her. He'd gone for a sort of dressed-up-dressed-down style: a dark red button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up; a light, cream-colored button-up vest (the clerk had called it a waistcoat, but Delsin isn't that fancy); black slim-fit jeans, and his usual sneakers. He doesn't have any nice shoes, and he hadn't liked any of the ones he'd seen when he'd gotten the vest, so he hopes she doesn't mind. At least he's not wearing his beanie. Tonight, his hair is lightly styled, pushed back off his forehead. It actually makes him look his age.
He wonders what Reggie would think about all of this. Going on a date. Having a job. Being mature. He wonders if he'd be proud, or skeptical.
Delsin takes a deep breath and lets it out a little shakily. He can do this. He can totally do this. He walks up nervously to the Bramford Building and looks for the right buzzer to press. He bites his lip, then taps out 'Shave and a Haircut' on it. The flat, tuneless beat feels loud in the close stoop.
(no subject)
Sep. 19th, 2014 01:28 pmHe's managed to get at least ten blast shards from the drones, and Delsin's feeling almost high. He's spending the day before his shift the same way he's spent the last ten days: running around the city, looking for more drones, draining what he can from the shards inside. He has more energy than he's had in weeks — maybe longer. He hadn't really been himself since coming here, and he knows it. Liz has helped; Aurora and Arya have helped. Shikamaru and Emma have been a help. But it isn't the same.
He's long since moved on from worrying about the Akomish to instead missing Fetch, Eugene, Betty, and Reggie intensely. Delsin finds himself unfairly comparing his Darrow friends to his Seattle friends, and although he tries to stop, he can't. He knows it's not good practice to get into, but when has he ever done anything good for himself?
But these drones are a godsend. They've got a little taste of home in every one, and although they appear to just be here, wandering like everyone else, there is still the background concern that the DUP have somehow followed him through. Maybe Augustine is seeking her revenge somehow. Maybe he should be expecting another Curdun Cay.
Not today, he resolves. Today, Delsin is going to find the last two drones on his map, and he's going to absorb the power of the blast shard, and then he's going to paint a triumphant tag somewhere high and visible, for the city of Darrow to feast their eyes upon. Maybe he can find a billboard that no one likes.
He spots a drone circling ahead and grins. It dips down, ducking under the overhanging awning of a streetside shop. Delsin leaps off the building and swings his arm up. The first smoke shot misses, singeing the fabric of the awning, but causes no real damage. He fires again mid-air, and this one hits home. His feet hit the concrete of the sidewalk just as the drone lands with a clang. Some Darrow natives gasp and dart away — others sort of just stare in distaste. Delsin's tempted to fire a smoke shot at their feet to scare them off, but he's not that much of a dick.
Usually.
He approaches the drone confidently and drains the radiation from it. It zings through him. He grins and shakes his wrist out. Time for the next one.
It's out by the boardwalk. Delsin's lucky someone else hasn't gotten to it. He downs it with ease and drains it quickly.
That's when he feels it. It's sharp and sudden, and it's been awhile but Delsin still recognizes the feeling of a new power. He gasps, then aims his hand: the smoke rocket that leaves it sends a shower of sand into the air. It rains down on him and gets through his beanie and hood.
"Oh, shit," he says with a laugh. "Oh my god, it's back!" He fires off another one. It feels amazing. He whoops and dashes forward, then shoots off a third. He's got one more — he can feel it — so he hangs onto it. They'll regenerate when he absorbs more smoke, but he wants to see if they're as powerful as they used to be.
It's time to head to the nearest abandoned building.
He's long since moved on from worrying about the Akomish to instead missing Fetch, Eugene, Betty, and Reggie intensely. Delsin finds himself unfairly comparing his Darrow friends to his Seattle friends, and although he tries to stop, he can't. He knows it's not good practice to get into, but when has he ever done anything good for himself?
But these drones are a godsend. They've got a little taste of home in every one, and although they appear to just be here, wandering like everyone else, there is still the background concern that the DUP have somehow followed him through. Maybe Augustine is seeking her revenge somehow. Maybe he should be expecting another Curdun Cay.
Not today, he resolves. Today, Delsin is going to find the last two drones on his map, and he's going to absorb the power of the blast shard, and then he's going to paint a triumphant tag somewhere high and visible, for the city of Darrow to feast their eyes upon. Maybe he can find a billboard that no one likes.
He spots a drone circling ahead and grins. It dips down, ducking under the overhanging awning of a streetside shop. Delsin leaps off the building and swings his arm up. The first smoke shot misses, singeing the fabric of the awning, but causes no real damage. He fires again mid-air, and this one hits home. His feet hit the concrete of the sidewalk just as the drone lands with a clang. Some Darrow natives gasp and dart away — others sort of just stare in distaste. Delsin's tempted to fire a smoke shot at their feet to scare them off, but he's not that much of a dick.
Usually.
He approaches the drone confidently and drains the radiation from it. It zings through him. He grins and shakes his wrist out. Time for the next one.
It's out by the boardwalk. Delsin's lucky someone else hasn't gotten to it. He downs it with ease and drains it quickly.
That's when he feels it. It's sharp and sudden, and it's been awhile but Delsin still recognizes the feeling of a new power. He gasps, then aims his hand: the smoke rocket that leaves it sends a shower of sand into the air. It rains down on him and gets through his beanie and hood.
"Oh, shit," he says with a laugh. "Oh my god, it's back!" He fires off another one. It feels amazing. He whoops and dashes forward, then shoots off a third. He's got one more — he can feel it — so he hangs onto it. They'll regenerate when he absorbs more smoke, but he wants to see if they're as powerful as they used to be.
It's time to head to the nearest abandoned building.
". . . Wow," Reggie says.
He's sitting on Delsin's couch, in Delsin's apartment, and Delsin's just broken the news that Reggie's dead. He'd been standing at the door when Delsin had brought Spark back from his morning walk, and the dog couldn't stop barking at him so Delsin had tucked him into the bathroom to get some quiet and privacy. He's exhausted and his head hurts, and he's got Reggie.
"Yeah," he says softly. "I tried so hard to save you."
"I . . . I know," Reggie assures. He grips Delsin's shoulder. "I remember, Del. You did your best, okay? I know you did." He leans back, arms out to the side. "But, hey. Here I am, right?" He smiles, chin lifting in that achingly familiar way.
"Here you are," he agrees. His eyes are soft and maybe still a little surprised. "God, it— it blows my mind, Reg. You're right here." He reaches and touches his shoulder, and for a second, Delsin almost believes his hand will pass right through him. But it doesn't. It lands firmly on Reggie's shoulder and stays there, and he clutches tightly before yanking him into a hug.
"That's right, Brother," Reggie whispers. "I'm right here. And I'm never gonna leave you again."
It's exactly what Delsin needs to hear, and he grips tighter with a soft, broken sound. He ignores the weird, worried knot in his belly. This is Reggie. Reggie is real, and here, and safe.
Later, Delsin is feeling tired. He's always cold, now, which seems to make the fatigue even worse. He hasn't been cold in so long, not since he'd gotten his smoke powers. But now he is, and it's . . . weird. He takes a deep breath: he's ready to tell Reggie he's going to go lay down and rest for awhile. Reggie pops out of his seat like there's a tack under him.
"Hey, Brother, why don't we go for a walk?" he suggests. "You look like you could use some fresh air."
Delsin looks up, and he's about to protest, say that he just wants to take a nap, or something. Then Reggie's hands are under his arms and hauling him up.
"Yeah, come on!" he assures. "It'll be great! You can show me around, introduce me to your friends; I can help you find a job to keep this respectable apartment."
"Creepy apartment," Delsin corrects with a little mumble. Well, it is! It's just kind of here for him, with no precursor, right? Did I just use 'precursor' right? he asks himself.
"Ah, it's not so bad," Reggie says, looking around. "Come on, let's go!"
"Hang on, lemme get Spark." Delsin doesn't like to leave him alone anymore, not since he's been forgetting to lock him in the bathroom. Reggie sighs heavily, but he lets Delsin hook the dog up. Delsin gives him a look, but brushes it off to typical brother annoyance at the barky beast.
Delsin's feet hit the sidewalk heavily, and he has to continually tug at Spark's leash to quiet his barking at Reggie. He leans into Reggie occasionally as they walk, just listening to his voice. It's nice. The cadence is familiar. He has no idea what Reggie is talking about, but that part doesn't matter. It's just for the sake of hearing his brother again.
They're just outside the park when Delsin has another dizzy spell. He clutches to Reggie with a gasp. No, no, no. He can do this. He can breathe through this. Reggie's arms are around him, holding him up carefully. Delsin's sure he'll come out of it. Only he doesn't. This time, the world spins black.
The last thing he hears as his body slumps to the sidewalk is Spark barking.
[ Timed to August 10th, 2014, around two PM. Find Delsin sprawled just outside the park, or have Spark find your character and drag you to him! Either way, he'll be unconscious when you find him and you'll have to shake him awake. Open for forever! ]
He's sitting on Delsin's couch, in Delsin's apartment, and Delsin's just broken the news that Reggie's dead. He'd been standing at the door when Delsin had brought Spark back from his morning walk, and the dog couldn't stop barking at him so Delsin had tucked him into the bathroom to get some quiet and privacy. He's exhausted and his head hurts, and he's got Reggie.
"Yeah," he says softly. "I tried so hard to save you."
"I . . . I know," Reggie assures. He grips Delsin's shoulder. "I remember, Del. You did your best, okay? I know you did." He leans back, arms out to the side. "But, hey. Here I am, right?" He smiles, chin lifting in that achingly familiar way.
"Here you are," he agrees. His eyes are soft and maybe still a little surprised. "God, it— it blows my mind, Reg. You're right here." He reaches and touches his shoulder, and for a second, Delsin almost believes his hand will pass right through him. But it doesn't. It lands firmly on Reggie's shoulder and stays there, and he clutches tightly before yanking him into a hug.
"That's right, Brother," Reggie whispers. "I'm right here. And I'm never gonna leave you again."
It's exactly what Delsin needs to hear, and he grips tighter with a soft, broken sound. He ignores the weird, worried knot in his belly. This is Reggie. Reggie is real, and here, and safe.
Later, Delsin is feeling tired. He's always cold, now, which seems to make the fatigue even worse. He hasn't been cold in so long, not since he'd gotten his smoke powers. But now he is, and it's . . . weird. He takes a deep breath: he's ready to tell Reggie he's going to go lay down and rest for awhile. Reggie pops out of his seat like there's a tack under him.
"Hey, Brother, why don't we go for a walk?" he suggests. "You look like you could use some fresh air."
Delsin looks up, and he's about to protest, say that he just wants to take a nap, or something. Then Reggie's hands are under his arms and hauling him up.
"Yeah, come on!" he assures. "It'll be great! You can show me around, introduce me to your friends; I can help you find a job to keep this respectable apartment."
"Creepy apartment," Delsin corrects with a little mumble. Well, it is! It's just kind of here for him, with no precursor, right? Did I just use 'precursor' right? he asks himself.
"Ah, it's not so bad," Reggie says, looking around. "Come on, let's go!"
"Hang on, lemme get Spark." Delsin doesn't like to leave him alone anymore, not since he's been forgetting to lock him in the bathroom. Reggie sighs heavily, but he lets Delsin hook the dog up. Delsin gives him a look, but brushes it off to typical brother annoyance at the barky beast.
Delsin's feet hit the sidewalk heavily, and he has to continually tug at Spark's leash to quiet his barking at Reggie. He leans into Reggie occasionally as they walk, just listening to his voice. It's nice. The cadence is familiar. He has no idea what Reggie is talking about, but that part doesn't matter. It's just for the sake of hearing his brother again.
They're just outside the park when Delsin has another dizzy spell. He clutches to Reggie with a gasp. No, no, no. He can do this. He can breathe through this. Reggie's arms are around him, holding him up carefully. Delsin's sure he'll come out of it. Only he doesn't. This time, the world spins black.
The last thing he hears as his body slumps to the sidewalk is Spark barking.
[ Timed to August 10th, 2014, around two PM. Find Delsin sprawled just outside the park, or have Spark find your character and drag you to him! Either way, he'll be unconscious when you find him and you'll have to shake him awake. Open for forever! ]
(no subject)
Jul. 31st, 2014 08:46 amDelsin has been trying not to hover. Liz had been through one hell of a thing, getting those pictures and that weird, creepy dude on the weird, creepy record player. He doesn't want to hover and freak her out, and he doesn't want to stay too distant and make her think that what he saw or heard actually scared him off. Because it hasn't. It really hasn't.
He and Liz share an apartment building. They're floors apart, and it's not like it's any hardship to go see her, but . . . He doesn't need to stay glued to her side, right? He can just . . . be available for her. That's what he keeps telling himself. With Spark to take care of, it's easier. Having something else to focus on takes his mind off of how worried Delsin is about her, but it may be telling that he's having an issue taking care if the dog after all.
So, finally, he tells himself to man up and go check on her. If she doesn't want his company, he'll politely back off. But he just needs to make sure she's okay and maybe help her take her mind off things. He doesn't know. He just needs to do something.
Before he goes, he takes Spark down to the patch of grass just outside the building to encourage him to empty his bladder (and maybe more). It's not an easy visit, like normal, but he has treats, now, per Coraline's suggestion, so Spark is learning that when he does certain things, he's rewarded for them. Peeing on the grass is one of those things.
After he finally goes, Delsin brings him back into the building and tucks him into the bathroom. He's lined the floor with fresh newspaper and tossed in a few toys to keep Spark occupied and away from Delsin's things. Then, finally, he heads up the stairs to Liz's apartment.
(He hopes Booker isn't home.)
He and Liz share an apartment building. They're floors apart, and it's not like it's any hardship to go see her, but . . . He doesn't need to stay glued to her side, right? He can just . . . be available for her. That's what he keeps telling himself. With Spark to take care of, it's easier. Having something else to focus on takes his mind off of how worried Delsin is about her, but it may be telling that he's having an issue taking care if the dog after all.
So, finally, he tells himself to man up and go check on her. If she doesn't want his company, he'll politely back off. But he just needs to make sure she's okay and maybe help her take her mind off things. He doesn't know. He just needs to do something.
Before he goes, he takes Spark down to the patch of grass just outside the building to encourage him to empty his bladder (and maybe more). It's not an easy visit, like normal, but he has treats, now, per Coraline's suggestion, so Spark is learning that when he does certain things, he's rewarded for them. Peeing on the grass is one of those things.
After he finally goes, Delsin brings him back into the building and tucks him into the bathroom. He's lined the floor with fresh newspaper and tossed in a few toys to keep Spark occupied and away from Delsin's things. Then, finally, he heads up the stairs to Liz's apartment.
(He hopes Booker isn't home.)
(no subject)
Jun. 4th, 2014 08:38 amHe hates this place. He hates that he can't leave. He hates that he can't get to the Akomish. It's the first time since Augustine hit them with her concrete power that he's actually felt helpless, and it's a terrible feeling.
He paces his new apartment tensely for a long moment before he swears and runs out the window. He climbs up the side of the building, then hits the roof. There's a neon sign not too far away. Maybe if he drains it, he can try to beat the city's weird Mobius effect. With neon, he can run at the speed of light, right? So maybe he can beat this.
He makes his way to it, heart kicking up in excitement. He can do this. He can do this.
He reaches the sign, holds his hands out—
And stumbles back with a gasp. His hands feel burned, and even as he looks, he can see the red marks start to fade. He pants softly and looks at the sign.
"What the hell!?" he demands. "No. No, no, no, no, this can't be happening." He reaches for the sign again, and lets out a pained sound. He curses and walks in a tense circle as he shakes out his arms.
He's lost neon. How? He hasn't gained a new power, not since concrete . . .
Delsin feels his stomach sink, and he looks around. There are no DUP nearby to drain it from. But he needs to know. If he's lost that, too, then he really is screwed. Because without concrete, the Akomish are going to die. And everything, all of it, even losing Reggie . . . it would have been for nothing.
Delsin shakes his head and he runs for the edge of the building. He needs a TV. If he can drain video, maybe he's still got a chance. He leaps off the edge of the building and lands on the sidewalk beneath it. He gets a few odd looks from the locals, but he ignores them: he's on a mission.
[[ Set to pre-bees, shortly after Delsin arrives in Darrow. He's just discovered that he lost one, possibly three of his Conduit powers and it's freaking him out. He's not on a rampage, but he's definitely on the verge of panic and will need to be calmed down. ST/LT welcome! Closed to top-levels ]]
He paces his new apartment tensely for a long moment before he swears and runs out the window. He climbs up the side of the building, then hits the roof. There's a neon sign not too far away. Maybe if he drains it, he can try to beat the city's weird Mobius effect. With neon, he can run at the speed of light, right? So maybe he can beat this.
He makes his way to it, heart kicking up in excitement. He can do this. He can do this.
He reaches the sign, holds his hands out—
And stumbles back with a gasp. His hands feel burned, and even as he looks, he can see the red marks start to fade. He pants softly and looks at the sign.
"What the hell!?" he demands. "No. No, no, no, no, this can't be happening." He reaches for the sign again, and lets out a pained sound. He curses and walks in a tense circle as he shakes out his arms.
He's lost neon. How? He hasn't gained a new power, not since concrete . . .
Delsin feels his stomach sink, and he looks around. There are no DUP nearby to drain it from. But he needs to know. If he's lost that, too, then he really is screwed. Because without concrete, the Akomish are going to die. And everything, all of it, even losing Reggie . . . it would have been for nothing.
Delsin shakes his head and he runs for the edge of the building. He needs a TV. If he can drain video, maybe he's still got a chance. He leaps off the edge of the building and lands on the sidewalk beneath it. He gets a few odd looks from the locals, but he ignores them: he's on a mission.
[[ Set to pre-bees, shortly after Delsin arrives in Darrow. He's just discovered that he lost one, possibly three of his Conduit powers and it's freaking him out. He's not on a rampage, but he's definitely on the verge of panic and will need to be calmed down. ST/LT welcome! Closed to top-levels ]]