Malcolm De Witt: He enters
the park from Fifth Avenue, crossing it on his way toward Lincoln Center
Harvey Forrester: *enters the park after feeding the homeless kinfolk
types*
Malcolm De Witt: He's dressed casually, in dark
glasses and summer colored designer cargo shorts, a short sleeve button down
shirt. The swirling scars going all the way down his left arm to his left hand
are clearly visible, as is the gold nose ring through his septum
Malcolm De Witt: He's a tall, handsome,
powerfully built youth who looks to be about 16-17 years. His copper colored
hair is a shaggy few inches, long enough to almost cover the two scars crossing
the left side of his skull. He's got a goatee of the same copper color, and
under that, piercing his septum, is a heavy gold nose ring that is exquisitely
worked in the shape of a snake eating it's own tail. His bone structure is a
tad exotic for his fair coloring, but not traceable to any one ethnic group.
Those who do see him and have any access to modern media will more than likely
recognize him as Malcolm De Witt, billionaire bad boy and heir to the De Witt
diamond fortune, who has been in the news quite a bit over the past few years.
(Notoriety. Check IC News forum and Who’s Who for details)
Harvey Forrester: *He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and just sort of
wanders around a bit*
Harvey Forrester: DD>Harvey is a standard 19-year-old boy, whose face
hints at both French and German blood. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, and he
stands fully six feet tall. He weighs about 175 pounds, though it’s mostly lean
muscle. He carries himself regally, as though a noble, and it seems to be
subconscious.
Malcolm De Witt: The bums who hang around the
entrances regard him with suspicion. Several have thier hands out. He smiles at
them, looking genuinely happy, almost dreamily so, and hands them $20 bills
Ùrsus: (Be back in 5)
Malcolm De Witt: They let him pass, and he
continues on, seeing Harvey and waving to him, still smiling. Happy, Happy,
Happy. Maybe he's high?
Harvey Forrester: *sees Malc's wave and returns it and starts jogging
over*
Malcolm De Witt: "Hi. How are you?"
Harvey Forrester: "I'm alright, and you?"
Malcolm De Witt: "Good! Really good."
He smiles so wide it looks like his face will split in half. "It's a
beautiful day, isn't it?"
Harvey Forrester: *nods* "Yes it is"
Malcolm De Witt: He looks like he's about to
hug Harvey, but manages to stop himself before he gets that demonstrative.
Malcolm De Witt: "I'm
on my way to Lincoln Center. I'm going to apply to Julliard."
Harvey Forrester: "Well, good luck! What do you want to study
there?"
Ursus: *It's a nice evening, darkness
having barely settled upon the park*
Ursus: *A raven
sitting on a branch eyes Malcolm and Harvey sceptically, tilting it's head*
Malcolm De Witt: "Ballet," he says,
unable to keep the smile from his face and the stars from his eyes. "I
love to dance."
Harvey Forrester: "It's best to do something that you love."
*nods*
Malcolm De Witt: He nods, slapping Harvey on
the back, not really taking notice of the raven, since there are quite a few
birds that roam the park.
Ursus: (Per+Alert,
both of you)
Harvey Forrester: "I'm guessing that that's what's got you so
cheerful today?"
Harvey Forrester: 6,8,5,4,6,
Malcolm De Witt: 2,3,4,2,4,
Malcolm De Witt: He nods, looking like a little
kid on his way to Disney World. "Yeah. Do you want to come with me?"
Harvey Forrester: "Sure, I don't have anything else to do
tonight."
Malcolm De Witt: He grins, happy for the
companionship, and continues along, oblivious of anything but his own good
cheer.
Malcolm De Witt: "So,
what do you love to do, Harvey?"
Harvey Forrester: *follows along a bit, but looks over at the bushes*
"Hold on a sec" *he heads towards the bushes* "Excuse me, sir,
do you need help?"
Malcolm De Witt: He pauses, frowning as he
hears Harvey ask if someone needs help.
Ursus: *Harvey seems to be adressing a
tall, rangy guy in an old overcoat, the "cowboy" kind some people
like, who is leaning over a bush, struggling with or pulling at something. A
mutter escapes the figure* Bloody miserable son-of-a-gun.
Jeremy Thomas: ((*waves*))
Malcolm De Witt: He politely waits on the path,
keeping an eye on Harvey and the man but not getting involved. Taht would be
rude.
Harvey Forrester: "Sir?"
Malcolm De Witt: The man doesn't look like a
'sir' to him, but he keeps that opinion to himself.
Jeremy Thomas: *Walks his way into the Park
from Uptown, his trusty walking stick one step ahead of him*
Ursus: (Hi, Jer.
It's half an hour after dark. Feel free to jump in)
Jeremy Thomas: ((Change "into" to
"through. Gaar))
Ursus: *Something
seems to give, and the rail-thin figure topples backwards out of the bush,
falling on his back, giving a brief cry of surprise that is oddly muffled* Dag
nabbit!
Harvey Forrester: "Are you alright?"
Malcolm De Witt: He doesn't see that the man
poses much of a threat, and after seeing what Harvey is capable of at the
trial, has confidence that he can deal with any potential problems, and so he
just sort of stands there, quietly humming 'Swan Lake' to himself and running
through dance routines in his head.
Malcolm De Witt: Smiling like an idiot or a
pothead all the while.
Ursus: *On the
ground, he looks even less like a "sir". The oddball must be
somewhere over 7 feet tall at least, with long, peculiarly thin arms and legs.
Seems to be wearing some pretty worn out brown trousers and a pair of cracked
boots underneath the overcoat, as well as a battered, brown stetson hat on his
head. What looks like a greyish-black braid of hair can be seen, and his skin
is nutty brown, tanned and leathery. A scarf covers his face below the eyes,
which are deeply set and grey*
Malcolm De Witt: ((I have about an hour before
I'll need to start dinner, just a warning timewise))
Jeremy Thomas: *A pair of headphones extend
from one ear to a CD Player (always one ear ready...Be Prepared, after all),
and he gently hums the tune to Stevie Nicks's "Crystal" as he hikes
through the Park, unknowingly heading toward Malcom & Harvey's direction*
Ursus: *His arms
seem to be way too long for the coat, with six inches of wrists and arms
sticking out from the sleeves, the long, thin fingers partially covered by
ratty, tattered gloves*
Harvey Forrester: *waits for the man to answer him*
Ursus: *His left
hand is holding onto a leather strap connected to a spotted leather bag, which
seems to have been just torn loose from the bush*
Malcolm De Witt: He glances around, more out of
curiousity than anything else, still humming to himself.
Ursus: *Slightly
muffled voice* Sorry. Did I yell? My bag got stuck.
Malcolm De Witt: He's a tall (6’4” and
growing), handsome, powerfully built youth who looks to be about 16-17 years.
His copper colored hair is a shaggy few inches, long enough to almost cover the
two scars crossing the left side of his skull. He's got a goatee of the same
copper color, and under that, piercing his septum, is a heavy gold nose ring
that is exquisitely worked in the shape of a snake eating it's own tail. His
bone structure is a tad exotic for his fair coloring, but not traceable to any
one ethnic group. Those who do see him and have any access to modern media will
more than likely recognize him as Malcolm De Witt, billionaire bad boy and heir
to the De Witt diamond fortune, who has been in the news quite a bit over the
past few years. (Notoriety. Check IC News forum and Who’s Who for details)
Malcolm De Witt: He's wearing summer colored
designer casuals, meaning a button down short sleeved shirt and khaki cargo
pants, with sandals. Swirling scars are easily visible going from his left hand
up his left arm and disappearing under that sleeve.
Jeremy Thomas: ((On a side note, is it just me,
or is the Who's Who all sorts of funky-looking?))
Ursus: *Those
thin wrists and the wrinkled skin around his eyes and forehead make him look
pretty old. Hard to say for certain, though. He folds and twists the freakishly
thin, tall body up into a sitting, then a standing position, clutching the bag
with thin fingers*
Harvey Forrester: "Need a hand?" *offers the man assistance in
climbing to his feet by extending a hand*
Malcolm De Witt: 2,9,8,3,
Harvey Forrester: ((looks alright to me.))
Malcolm De Witt: He sees Jeremy coming but
doesn't recognize him.
Jeremy Thomas: *Hearing voices, he altars
course slightly and heads toward the group, interested to see who's still in
the Park these days.*
Ursus: *Taking Harvey's hand with one of
his own thin ones, he pulls himself up* Thank you, youngster.
Malcolm De Witt: He waves happily to Jer,
trying to be polite and not get into the business between the ugly old man and
Harvey. Tho he's clearly getting a bit impatient.
Harvey Forrester: "No problem. How did you get your bag
caught?"
Ursus: *He let's
go of Harvey's hand, clutching the bag tightly* Er, the branches kinda wouldn't
let go when I was crawling out. *Looks the younger man over*
Malcolm De Witt: He looks at the branches, as
if comepletely believing they might have a mind of their own.
Ursus: *Standing
up, he seems even taller. Even without the stetson, he's got to be 7'5'' or
more*
Harvey Forrester: *nods understandingly* "Well, it appears that you
got your bag free."
Malcolm De Witt: 4,5,3,2,6,
Jeremy Thomas: *Seeing Malcom wave, he raises
an eyebrow...then shrugs, and waves back. He smiles at the site of
Harvey...then slowly raises his head back, to look at the giant thin guy*
Malcolm De Witt: He stares at the bush, then
glances over--up--at the man. It's not often he finds anyone taller than
himself.
Ursus: *He nods* Yes. The strap burst.
Damn old thing. *Peers intently at Harvey, then at Malcolm*
Jeremy Thomas: *Quietly,
under his breath* I say, damn...'ats a big boy...
Malcolm De Witt: His eyes are a bit unfocused,
and with that dopey smile, he looks pretty high.
Ursus: *Mutters
to himself* Crazy old fool was right.
Harvey Forrester: "Hmm?" *looking up, because this guy is a
foot and several inches taller than him*
Ursus: *His
accent is impossible to place. Sounds like it's been watered down from years on
the road*
Malcolm De Witt: "My uncle was that
tall," he blurts out, not directed at anybody, just unfiltered brain to
mouth.
Ursus: *He looks
at Malcolm, eyes narrow* Really? Must've had a hard time finding good clothes,
him too.
Malcolm De Witt: He shrugs. "He was
friends with several fashion designers. He always had good clothes."
Ursus: *He really
cuts an odd figure. If his arms are to be taken as evidence, he might be
concentration camp thin*
Malcolm De Witt: "Would you like me to
reccomend you to one?"
Ursus: *He
blinks* Fashion designers, eh? Good clothes are a blessing for us tall folks to
have, so I'd count him as lucky, then. *There is something a bit odd about his
way of speaking*
Harvey Forrester: *listens to Malc talk with the guy, but he's quiet, as
he often is*
Jeremy Thomas: *Takes opportunity provided by
the conversation between Malcom and Stick Man to look over at Harvey. he grins*
Hey, man. How ya been?
Malcolm De Witt: "I can have some made for
you," He offers, still smiling.
Ursus: *He
chuckles in a slightly foreboding way* I think most of them fancy tailors are
too expensive for me, really. But thank you, kid.
Harvey Forrester: "I've been alright, and you?" *to Jer*
Harvey Forrester: "I've been alright, and
you?" *to Jer*
Malcolm De Witt: He frowns slightly at the
foreboding attitude. "I'll pay for it."
Ursus: *A look of
puzzlement in his eyes* Well, that's mighty neighbourly of you. But there's
plenty folks out there who needs good clothes more than Ol'Ezra. Better they
have them.
Malcolm De Witt: 7,5,3,2,5,
Jeremy Thomas: *Shrugs to Harvey* Been better,
been worse. *Glances at Stick Man, registering the name and replacing
"Stick Man" with "Ezra" in his mental RoloDex*
Ursus -> Malcolm De Witt: *Hmmm...No real Wyrm smell...But still a tingle of something
odd*
Malcolm De Witt: He shrugs. "But they're
much more likely to find somethign to fit them in a thrift shop. The only way
you're likely to get good clothes is to have them made."
Ursus: *He looks
over at Jeremy, narrowing his eyes, seems a bit surprised*
Malcolm De Witt -> Ursus: (and the bag?))
Ursus: *He looks
at Malcolm, yellowy-grey eyes shadowed by the brim of the battered stetson*
You've got that right, son. Haven't had a really good set of clothes since my
ma last sewed me some.
Ursus -> Malcolm De Witt: *Ze bag...Doesn't really have any Wyrmish scent, either*
Malcolm De Witt: "So, I'll buy you
some." He shrugs. "A man needs good clothes."
Jeremy Thomas: *Looks up at Ezra, a bit
confused at the eye-narrowing* Uhhh....hi.
Ursus: *He leans
forward a bit, like a thin tree bending in the wind* One of them good
Samaritans, are you, son? Ain't really from around here, are you?
Harvey Forrester: *continues observing the conversation, not really
having anything to add*
Ursus: *Looks at
Jeremy* Fancy meeting lots of you young fellers here tonight. Is there
something special going on, or are you all going somewhere?
Ursus: *Looks at Jeremy* Fancy meeting lots of you young fellers
here tonight. Is there something special going on, or are you all going
somewhere?
Malcolm De Witt: He pulls back, not quite
cowering but definitely lowering his head. He glances quickly to Harvey as if
asking him if he did anything wrong? "Uhm...well...I just...thought I
could help."
Ursus: (Y'all can
make another Per+Alert, folks)
Harvey Forrester: 9,2,3,5,6,
Malcolm De Witt: "I'm just passing through,"
he adds quickly, continnuing his submissive behavior. "Just crossing the
park, that's all. I don't want any trouble."
Malcolm De Witt: 4,5,3,8,
Ursus: *He leans
forward even more, looking almost absurd* Now, don't you get me wrong, son.
It's a mighty fine thing to be kind to strangers.
Jeremy Thomas: 8,8,4,7,2,
Ursus -> Malcolm De Witt: *As he keeps speaking, the movements of the scarf does seem
to indicate that there must be something odd with his mouth...It almost seems
to protrude more from his face than normal*
Jeremy Thomas: *Looks at Harvey, not quite sure
what to make of this guy*
Malcolm De Witt: He turtles his head into his
neck, bending his knees to keep the same distance between himself and Ezra as
he bends.
Ursus: *He shakes
his head* Ain't gonna cause you no trouble, son. I'm just visiting myself.
Malcolm De Witt: He nods, glancing sideways at
Harvey, his look saying "Help me! What do I do?"
Ursus: *Straightens
up again as he notices Malcolm bending away, again towering over them in his
dirty old overcoat and tattered stetson*
Harvey Forrester: *shrugs, he himself clearly doesn't know what to make
of this guy*
Malcolm De Witt: He stays scrunched up. Not
quite cowering, but confused enough about the ettiquette here to reman submissive
so as to not piss anyone off.
Malcolm De Witt: his face is starting to turn
red, and he seems eitehr embarrassed or frightened. Or both. He clears his
throat and says "May I go?"
Ursus: *He sounds
almost embarassed as he waves his hand at Malcolm* Now, don't you go all polite
and scared for my sake, son. It's not like I'm a schoolmaster or something.
Jeremy Thomas: *Breathes in, raises and eyebrow
again, and shrugs. He steps forward, toward Ezra* Hello..Ezra, is it? *Bows his
head* My name's Jeremy Thomas...or, simply "Dream," if you like.
Malcolm De Witt: He takes the wave for a
dismissal and hurriedly moves off, waving a goodbye to Harvey and Jer.
Ursus: *He arches
an old, grey eyebrow* Dream? That's pretty short'n'sweet, right there. Sorry,
must've lost my manners somewhere farther down the line. I'm just Ol'Ezra.
Malcolm De Witt: "Have Harvey contact me
if you still want the suit," he ventures, when he's about 20 feet away.
Harvey Forrester: "I'm Harvey."
Ursus: *He looks
after Malcolm, blinks* Eh, thank you, son. *Looks at Harvey* Oh. Right you are.
Sorry if I scared your friend away. Or something.
Jeremy Thomas: *Quick nod goodbye to Malcom,
then looks back to Ezra* A pleasure to meet you, Ezra. Where are you from?
Malcolm De Witt: He continues hurriedly toward
the Central Park West, crossing it and heading toward Lincoln Center.
Ursus: *He looks
after Malcolm a bit, then back at Jeremy* Oh, eh. Not nearby. Mid-West.
Malcolm De Witt:
2,7,2,9,9,7,
Jeremy Thomas: *He grins a little* Compared to
me, your a local. Pacific Northwest.
Harvey Forrester: *falls silent once more, not really having anything to
add*
Ursus: *He peers at Jeremy* Ah, right.
That's pretty far off, haven't been there for a...long time. I hail from around
Kansas Territory.
Malcolm De Witt: 9,3,8,6,2,
Jeremy Thomas: *He nods* My adopted
grandparents on my mother's side came from Nebraska...I passed through it
briefly on my way here the first time. Beautiful country.
Ursus: *A
chuckle* Yeah, Nebraska territory sure is a sight. *Looks at Harvey, curious
expression* How about you, son? You from around here?
Harvey Forrester: "Yeah, from Upstate."
Ursus: *He nods*
Right. Say, that friend of yours with the accent. Where's he from?
Harvey Forrester: "Not entirely sure." *Shrugs*
Jeremy Thomas: *Falls silent and lets Harvey
talk for the moment*
: ((*waves* thanks for the RP all, I'll bb
after dinner if you're still around))
Ursus: *He
furrows his wrinkled, nutty brown brow* The two of you I can place...But he's
kind of a different type altogether, isn't he?
Ursus: (Later,
Singha)
Jeremy Thomas: *Nods* He might be,
yeah...different then all of us, at least.
Ursus: *A nod* He sure
is. If I had me a bag of dead squirrels here, I'd be mighty surprised to find a
racoon in there suddenly, you know?
Harvey Forrester: *nods quietly*
Jeremy Thomas: *He smiles a little* Not sure I
totally follow you there, but that's fine. What brings you to New York City,
Ezra?
Ursus: *He
clutches the bag a bit tighter* Er, see, that's a damn good question. Kind of
an accident, really.
Ursus: *Looks
around, muttering* Can't believe what they've done with the place.
Jeremy Thomas: *Tilts his head slightly,
looking up at Ezra* Accident?
Ursus: *Voice
still muffled by the scarf* Somewhat. Not really. Someone gave me odd
directions, and it sort of happened.
Jeremy Thomas: Then what happened?
Ursus: Then I
came here.
Jeremy Thomas: *Shrugs* All right...well, then,
welcome to New York City, Ezra. Anything I can do for you to help you get
settled in?
Ursus: *He tugs
on one of his two greying braids a bit* Er, yes. Maybe you can. I'm kind of
wondering where the nearest place people who are a bit special tend to gather.
I mean, dead squirrel type people, if you know what I mean.
Harvey Forrester: *continues to be silent, listening, but deferring to
Jeremy to do the talking*
Jeremy Thomas: People like us? *He smiles*
Ursus: (BRB)
Jeremy Thomas: ((K))
: ((Damn, dinner's almost cooked and my last
post is still on the screen.))
Jeremy Thomas: ((Crap, I gotta run...gf needs
to go shopping for gf stuff, and as she's legally blind, I'm her ride. I'll try
to be back later...))
Harvey Forrester: ((Well, becuase it's getting early where Ursus is, he
probably won't be on...shall Jer just be quiet and Harv finish the scene?))
Jeremy Thomas: ((Sure...sounds like a plan.
Laters, all...)) *POOF*
Harvey Forrester: ((Ursus, when you get back, ping me on ICQ))
Harvey Forrester: ((nevermind, I see that you're back as I say that))
Ursus: (Sorry, guys. Discussing silver
anniversary gift for our parents with a fairly intoxicated sister. I really
have to cut it a bit. I'll talk to you in 10, Janothar)
: ((Dinner's cooked, I gotta eat and will
probably be another half hour or so. I'll ping you guys if anyone's on when I
get back. *G*))
Harvey Forrester: ((alrighty))
Harvey Forrester: ((ICQ me when you're ready for me))
Ursus: *He nods*
People like us. As opposed to raccoons.
Harvey Forrester: "Then this is it."
Ursus: *He looks
around, a bit puzzled* Oh.
Harvey Forrester: "What has you so confused?"
: ((And I'd come back but while it's been 1 1/2
hrs, OOC it looks like it's been only a few minutes IC. *G*))
Ursus: (Also, I really ought to log off and get some sleep soon *s*)
Ursus: *He tugs
on his braid* Well, I did feel sort of a tingle, so I suspected I was heading
into some kind of turf, but I haven't really seen anything to indicate...Well,
there's you guys, of course.
Harvey Forrester: "We're just a coincidence. I'll go get someone in
charge here for you."
Ursus: *He furrows his brow* Oh, that
won't be necessary. I think I see what you mean. *Seems to be staring off into
the distance a bit* I'll go take a look.
Harvey Forrester: "Ok." *nods*
Ursus: *He looks
around* So, Harvey, was it? I feel a bit bad about the kid who offered to buy
me clothes. Didn't want to scare him away. He said to talk to you. Do you live
here?
Harvey Forrester: "I live nearby."
Ursus: *He tugs
on his braid a bit* Er. This might seem like an odd question. But could I have
some of your hair?
Harvey Forrester: "That's a very odd question...why do you want
it?"
Ursus: Well, I
could maybe have good use of some clothes, and the kid said to talk to you if I
did, and I don't know where you live. So if I have some of your hair, I can get
in touch with you.
Harvey Forrester: "Or I could just tell you where I live..."
Ursus: *He nods*
That's true. If it's easy to find. I've never been here before. Almost came
here by railroad once, but it sort of didn't happen.
Harvey Forrester: *gives his address, and directions...he lives fairly
close to the park...then gives his phone number* "Give me a call if you
need me."
Ursus: *He blinks
at the phone number* Eh?
Harvey Forrester: "That's my phone number."
Ursus: *Tugs a
bit more on the braid* Eh. Right. I...don't think I'll be needing that.
Harvey Forrester: "O...k..."
Ursus: *He
looks...oddly lost, somehow. As if a bit unsure what to say*
Harvey Forrester: "Well...do you want me to tell him that you want
the clothes?"
Ursus: *He looks
around* Eh, I don't know yet. Don't know how long I'll be staying.
Harvey Forrester: "Alrighty...umm, well, you know where to find
me."
Ursus: *He nods*
Yes, I know the directions. *Clutching the bag, he looks around* I really ought
to go looking. Good night, son.
Harvey Forrester: "Good night." *heads off*
Ursus: *The
scarecrow wanders off, roughly in the direction of Mera's fountain*