#thread 1

@sanjitxgupta at WonderWorld Market

It felt like Ryder was standing here in the wine aisle for a few days now. That is an over exaggeration more like a few minutes but for Ryder it felt like a few days. He didn’t know what kind of wine to get. What tastes good? Sour? Sweet? Spicy? Red? White? Dark Red? Was there even a dark red? Ryder wasn’t a wine expert in anyway. He would have a glass every now and again but he was mostly a beer drinker or iced tea. Was there a certain brand that tasted better than others, so many questions ran through his mind. He wished that someone with knowledge would walk by. Ryder looked over next to him as someone walked up. “Do you know anything about wine? I have no clue where to start. Could you help me pick one?”

Finding a new world wasn't an every day occurrence, nor was owning his own home. Though he was informed he was a co-owner he still owned his room.

However, he knew nothing of this place. Watering holes, be it Taverns or Inns or even food stalls were the best place to find any and all information. Perhaps companionship as well, already feeling the painful ache of loneliness itch at his skin until he's fighting down a sneer.

He calms, entering the tavern and gravitates with ease towards the bar. He looked to the little pouch he has, finding coin and strange slips of paper in it, figuring he'd be able to work it out from there.

"The currency sure is different here." He states idly, spotting an older man nearby he slides closer, ever light on his feet, the rogue in him cringing as he forced his steps to make noise.

"Is this seat taken by chance?" He asks the man, pointing to the stool beside him, the two tucked away off to the side.

One could see all entrances and exits, but were out of the way enough eyes were not often drawn here. Though his elegant attire might change that fact, he seemed uncaring of it all.

Brooch set and mask tightened, you step towards the portal that quietly nestles itself in the corner of the ballroom. Rumors flew about this oddity that you couldn't ignore; magic is an interest in and of itself, yes, but supposedly there were things beyond the swirl that you couldn't even dream of. Who wouldn't want to take a look?

After gaining approval from the bishops that keep the portal alive, you walk through and find yourself nearly gaping at the extravagance. Those rumors were right! This place is amazing! The world inside glitters with jewelry and crystal the likes of which you've never seen. Marble stretches to the ceiling and the floor is so pristine you almost feel dirty for walking on it.

spoilers

@dyshonor ;

She knew it. She knew something was off.

Ever since she stepped foot in this new place, Niamh had the sinking suspicion that something had also come here. No, there was a high probability that it was a someone. A very, very dangerous someone.

If she was right, this would complicate many things. Still, Niamh despised being left uncertain more than confirming a harsh truth. She had to take the opportunity to look into matters while she could! And if she was able to prepare in time-

Waaaaait. Halting awkwardly in the hallways, someone catches her eyes. It's the sight of a someone in different attire that usual, yes, but that's often the norm for the two of them, wasn't it? But even so...

"...oh. It's you..."

"I used to think that it was the illustrations." Sabrina put the book down, having not seen it since she was a child. She'd taken a copy of it from the library years ago, unable to stomach having the book in her own collection. Now at the Institute, it was much harder to pretend that they were nothing more than children's stories. There might just be grains of truth hidden within Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. Now sitting with the newest folklore teacher, she leafed through some of the stories that haunted her nightmares. "I never said a word to anyone about it. Not even the librarian who original showed her the book knew how much the stories had effected the young woman. "Have you heard any of these? Know the origins? Maybe the truth is more logical than the fictional accounts."

“They are rather... gripping illustrations.” Leslie held his hand out for the book and once she’d let him look, he glanced through the book, meant for older children. He hadn’t read them, of course. They appeared to be only 30 years old tales, but he was sure some were new spins on some rather old ghostly yarns.

“You know what they say, ‘truth is stranger than fiction’... I suppose being here, the creatures inhabiting his island certainly is proof of that.” Leslie smiled to the computer teacher. If she was interested in bending his ear on his particular area of study, maybe she wouldn’t mind him doing the same. He wouldn’t mind getting his television up and going. Whatever an HDMI was... Leslie was old fashion, he simply couldn’t be bothered to keep up. It all moved so bloody fast.

It was rather unfortunate that his parents have pushed through their business trip and it was the reason for their untimely demise. Perhaps they should have been more careful. If they had a keen eye, perhaps they would have seen through the tiny speck of flaw in that venture they had been offered. It was clear as day to Azrael and yet they were blinded by the generous offer. Their demise did not go to waste as he was left with everything they ever had, their only and precious son.

The neighbors were kind, or they simply wanted to gossip and witness firsthand how the only son was coping. Azrael met through several people until he had enough. He grew weary easily and all he heard was ‘poor boy’, ‘he must be suffering’, ‘will he be alright?’. It was amusing, really. They had no clue. Every now and then, there would be people who would come by and Azrael would be gracious enough to open the door, partake in a mediocre conversation and accept the little gifts they offer. How funny.

Among the people who had seen him on the day he buried his parents, there was a certain blonde that caught his eye. The last thing that should be on his mind was to play with a pretty trinket but this one had been glancing curiously at him more times than those prying eyes of the gossiping people. All at the right time. Perhaps that time has come earlier than he thought.

[ cont from here with @lisaheaven​ ]

“You were here before, Miss?” 

Cherry asked, looking up from her crochet work, sitting under a tree. She looked pleasant enough, this mistress, and Cherry had yet to have a very bad run in with anyone... other than the vampire that attacked her, the one who went too far at the bar and getting yelled at in the lounge, but... it wasn’t so bad here.