perfectsymmetry | Entries tagged with he could use a hug

[Phone call filtered from drones]

Ah, happy "new" year, Mayfield. I-I'm glad I'm back to being myself, o-or more like everyone recognize that I'm me again. Did anyone catch that radio broadcast? It was on late. I-I was wondering if anyone else could make out what was said at the end, there, or what you thought about it.

Speaking of the new year, my birthday is coming up near the end o-of the month. I'll be 18. How many people here have turned 18 while here, and have woken up as an "adult" soon after? I've been wondering if that's what will happen to me.

Um. I've done a lot of baking during that whole, um, previous incident. I really didn't have much else to do... So if anyone's interested in coming over to my place and having some, feel free too.

[This is Crowe-speak for "I'm lonely, please come hang out with me." Anyone is welcome to stop by his house, where he'll be readying tea and cookie for visitors.

Later, Crowe will be found at his usual haunt, the rec center. Today he'll be borrowing the gymnastic balance beams. He's no gymnast, but he's got great balance and speed. He'll be running up and down the beam, going frontwards, backwards and sideways, trying to go as fast as he can without falling off. He does pretty well but he does have the occasional slip up or fall to the mats. Care to pop over?]

[Action 1: Coming across a droned Kay Faraday while on his paper route was startling to Crowe. It practically gave him chills. Immediately excusing himself from her, he made his way over to her house. There would be an easy way to tell if it was permanent, and that would be her belongings. One look through the living room window would confirm the worst - her big flat screen TV was gone.

Just to make sure, the young thief quickly snuck his way around the back and up to Kay's room while she was still out. Sure enough, her Little Thief computer was gone too. Heartbroken, Crowe collects his former friend's notes she had on their investigative work, and slipped back out, hopefully unnoticed by her housemates.]

---

[Phone call filtered from drones/NPCs. Crowe sounds distracted.]

Ah. Everyone might here the drones whispering about the bowling alley. O-Or I think for some, maybe the hotel or a camping trip? Last year it was Makeout Point... A-Anyway, sometime soon we're all going to be stuck somewhere for a few hours. Nothing bad should happen if it's like last time, but you never know what Mayfield will do. Last year we all were, um, paired up in cars for several hours. Ah, the teens I mean. The adults were in the hotel and the kids were at camp, I believe. So. Um. Just to warn you all.

Uh, also, if anyone knows Kay Faraday, she... she's gone now. For good. I thought I'd just. Let people know.

[There's a moment of silence before he hangs up.]

---

[Action 2: Oh look, a package for Crowe! Standing at the mailbox, Crowe opens it up, wondering what he has left for the town to send him. Inside is a small, well-worn soccer ball, obviously meant for young child. He gives it a fond smile, turning it over in his hands. His first name is scrawled on it in childish handwriting.]

---

[Action 3: Later, Crowe can be found at the diner, sitting in a corner booth by himself with a milkshake. What else would his old BFF do in this situation by cure it with ice cream?

It doesn't seem to be working though. He's barely touched it, opting to sit there with his headphones in, drowning the world out.]

( cut for typical Crowe angst! Locked to housemates & visitors to 1247 Williams this weekend. )

[Did you ever notice that the more you try to avoid something, the more it continues to show up in your face? That's the problem Crowe is having with the prom.

He's not really been in a socializing mood, not to mention he knows he'll never find a date. A lot of his friends already seemed paired off, even though the event was announced just this week. So naturally, because he doesn't want to go, it seems to be haunting him wherever he goes. You'll find him:

A) Politely trying to turn down a nerdy drone girl's offer of a date. Crowe is one of the few people in town who actually feels bad for drones, but there's no explaining to them that drones aren't allowed in to this event. Or that you'd rather not go with an brainwashed automaton. Or a girl. But that's beyond the point, really. While being gentle about it, the girl eventually starts to cry at the rejection before running off. Crowe looks beyond exasperated.

---

B) In the halls between classes, being followed by a recently-redroned BFF, who pleasantly chatters away, while Crowe looks like he'd rather be dumped in boiling oil.]

I think I'm going to ask Suzy to go! Boy, it'll sure be swell. I hope she says yes!

Yeah. Good luck.

What about you, Calleo? Have you asked anyone yet? What about Jeanie? I hear she likes you!

Maybe.

You better hurry up, before someone else asks her!

Okay.

[Someone, please rescue him.]

---

C) A drone art teacher has approached him now, asking if he'd like to be the official photographer for the dance. Never mind that Crowe doesn't want to go, or that drones aren't welcome to this particular festivity. The teacher prattles on about how Crowe has been improving a lot these last few months and that he knows what a good job he'd do. Crowe looks a bit confused, but mostly unimpressed. But maybe if his friends are going to insist on dragging him to the actual non-drone prom, then photography would be a good way to keep his mind off of being a dateless wonder.

You might find him practicing with his camera around school later, since he hasn't used it in a few weeks. He'll be snapping some candid shots. Smile for the camera?]

[Crowe knew better than to send a letter asking for a peaceful Christmas. He should have known his wish would be granted in the most twisted way possible.

Residents of Mayfield will find him today wandering around town looking like he's trying not to panic, and muttering to himself. You'll see him looking in windows of houses, running through the streets, occasionally calling the names of his friends.

Any attempt you might make to talk to him is completely ignored. He doesn't even notice if you touch him, as he brushes right past you. He looks scared, and angry, and lost.]

No, no, no! You know this isn't real, i-it... it's not. It's just Mayfield. They're not... they're not really dead... they can't all be...

[Mayfield has him completely trapped in a delusion. To Crowe, everyone in town but him is dead. He's utterly alone, and the longer it goes on the harder it is to convince himself this isn't real.

Later you'll find him sitting on a curb, head in his hands, looking defeated. Nothing anyone says or does to him seems to get through. His not!family will find an empty present and a letter on the floor near the Christmas tree.

That night, he returns home, and hurries to his room, and locks the door.]

[Crowe is nowhere to be found on Saturday. He's not at home, the rec center or the park, and his papers have gone undelivered. Strange, for this kid.

After he wakes up Sunday morning, it wakes awhile for what happen to sink in. And he notices today is *Sunday*, not Saturday. He was dead for longer than overnight.

He manages to crawl out of bed when the phone rings, though. Crowe listens to Kay's call, then decides to make a call of his own. His voice is quiet and slightly shaky.]

[PHONE: Filtered from Mayor/Grady/drones/etc/]

...Wh-what Kay says is true. We learned s-some invaluable information, so I-I hope it's of some use i-in our overall efforts. Ah, i-if you have any follow up questions, I'll be at at my house at 1247 Williams. Feel free to stop by, I'll be in the kitchen.

[After that he hangs up. He really doesn't want to speak over the phone, but if you insist, he will.]

[ACTION: for household:

Crowe will be sitting at the kitchen table this morning, with some papers and photos strewn around it. The photos are of various people around town, mostly Crowe's friends and acquaintances. There's also an open journal in front if him he's periodically writing in, but mostly he's listlessly tapping the pencil on the table looking lost in thought. Family and visitors are welcome to find him there.]

[[OOC - the log is here if you're interested]]

[The hazmats broke into Crowe's house again last night, burning and killing everyone inside. He thought his house would be safer, since they had already checked there and turned up nothing, already killing him once for no reason... but apparently he was wrong.

The next morning when he awakes, Crowe doesn't call anyone or go anywhere. Any other residents, guests, or visitors of 1247 Williams will find him in what's left of his room, sitting in a corner, knees to his chest. He doesn't know what else to say, or what to do. And there he will sit. Anyone is free to come by and try to talk to him.]

( private action )

---

[Action: Some time in the late morning, Crowe wanders out of his room. He's looking to make sure Hol and Ash are alright. If Mukuro ran into the hazmats... well, he could handle himself.]

---

[Phone: Crowe's voice is quiet.]

Everyone. You're... you're not even safe in your homes, alright? The hazmats.... They came in to ours. I didn't touch them and they killed me anyway. Lock up your houses, and if they come in, just get out of their way. Don't confront them or they'll just turn on you. Just stay out of the way. Get to your basement or something.

...

I-Is everyone alright? They didn't... hurt anyone else, did they?

[Well, let's try to ignore traumatic date night, shall we? Crowe has other news to report to you all.

Call filtered from Rue:]

Um. I said I would let people know if I found out anything about what happened to those of us who were... victimized last week. Those of us who were infected with whatever it was. Mr. Hughes and I spoke with Rue, but it, ah, predictably didn't go very well. But, what we could gather from it was that it was due to something she slipped into drinks, that the town gave back to her. I think she knew it would do something strange to us, but not specifically what. And that once it started she had no way of stopping it. I figure that mostly from the fact that she herself was not affected by it.

But... I encourage you all to not do anything drastic. Please. She... I think she realizes how bad this all was, and is guilty enough about it. I don't think it'll happen again.

[A pause, and a quite sigh.] At least I hope not.

Anyway, I hope everyone is alright after, ah... a-all these recent events.

---

[Later, Crowe can be found back at the park per usual, with trees and ropes and the whatnot. Today he's got a rope tied in a high tree branch straight up vertically, trying his best to climb up it using only his arms. Woo upper body strength training! It's pretty tough, but he's going at a slow but steady pace. Surely there's no ulterior motives behind all this training lately...]

_{[[OOC: Chrona-mun, feel free to keep backtagging the date if you want~]]}

[Like a few other folks in town, something is up with Crowe. The usually bright paperboy, who chats pleasantly with everyone, is skulking about town looking downright volitile. Anyone who approaches him will be met with unusual hostility and bitter remarks.

He'll be still going about his usual business though. He'll show up to blitzball and combat practice with Jecht and his friends. He'll be absolutely ruthless today though, especially while fighting. Enjoy, Jecht!

Even after that, he can be found in the rec center, using the boxing equipment there, fiercely pummeling the practice bags. His fists, by this point, are raw and are starting to bleed. Occasionally, he stops and grabs his head, looking like he might be a bit dizzy. A small part of him is telling him that something is wrong, VERY wrong. But it's quickly quashed. This is the way he is now. The way he always should have been. Right?]

[Since he got to Mayfield, Crowe had barely stayed in his home. He always managed to find a way to keep busy so that he could stay out of that creepy house, with its drone for a mother and professional killer for a father, as often as possible.

But for the last few days, he's barely left his room. He skipped school and practice, and his paper route - always delivered with a smile and on time every day for the last three months - has gone ignored. The only time he leaves is late at night, for his town watch duties, but he ended up just sitting somewhere, unsure of what to do. He stays out of the park, his usual hang out, to avoid the gruesome reminders that his friends were still trapped in Westport. That he failed to do anything to bring those people home; that they were still over there suffering through God knows what.

When he returns home at sunrise today, he goes to his room, but the phone keeps ringing. And ringing. And ringing. Wait, could that mean --- okay, something obviously happened. Maybe… maybe the rest have finally…

Picking up the phone, Crowe is treated to one of the many familiar voices of Mayfield screaming and sobbing in utter agony and grief. Startled, he hangs up the phone without thinking, and stares at it, scared.

For a few moments he stands there, a million thoughts going through his head. He tried so hard to do whatever he could to bring those people home safely, to do anything to help, to be any use at ALL, but nothing worked. Everyone just came back to Mayfield a broken mess, and he could do nothing about it.

Nothing.

He walks back upstairs to his room, and quietly closes the door.]

[Call to all non-drones]

The road disappeared? This is... no. There's got to be a way in. There's a lot of people over there! If they can't get out, they're done for. And whatever did this could come back for them.

Look, you... there's so many of you out there with weird powers or magic or whatever. There's got to be something you can do! I don't -- [sigh] ...I'm going to go look. I don't know where. Everywhere I can, I suppose. We can't give up on them. If you want to help me, I'll be around town. I... I'd like to think if I was trapped there, my friends would do the same for me.

[There's a slight pause as Crowe sighs shortly, regaining his composure.]

I'll make another call if I find anything.

[Crowe spends his first few days in Mayfield observing. He watches everyone and everything. He see the drones going about their business, all smiling and vacant and enjoying their day. He watches those who he assumes to be fellow prisoners, who, from what he has been told, come from all over time and space. Fascinating! Who knew such things were possible? A lot of people seem to have been pulled to this place with their family and friends, as well. While he's glad no one he knows would have to suffer from this fate, he can't help but feel envious that others have a familiar face to turn to.

He'll also attend school, more out of curiosity than anything. He's feeling a bit unsure of himself at the moment, and he's never quite sure how to approach people in the first place, so the sophomore class will have a new addition who will sit quietly alone for awhile. Anyone who approaches him, however, will definitely be greeted warmly, politely and with a smile, every time.

Worry has been keeping him awake - he's a night owl, anyway - and in his insomnia early one morning he discovers a bundle of newspapers on his porch, with his name and delivery route attached. Well, his Mayfield name, anyway. Calleo Brown. Goodness, he'll never get used to that. But it appears he has a paper route. Interesting! He's never had a real job before. Why not give it a try?

So residents of Mayfield, feel free to talk with/annoy/harass Crowe at any point in time! He's a bit lonely and has a thousand questions, so he'll be glad to talk with anyone!]
----

[And, for good measure, here's a call to the town! Unfiltered to one and all.]

Hello? I guess this phone really reaches to everyone in town, then? How odd. Well then I hope that maybe I can get more insight to this town. I've been told a lot of people being held here have been here for several months. Is this true? I was also curious if anyone has managed to escape, or at least get a message to the outside world. Worlds. Whatever. Thank you in advance.

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Calleo Crowe

June 2025

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Page generated Jun. 8th, 2025 11:12 am

It gets harder to believe, but be honest

If the sun don't shine tomorrow, we'll survive

Entries tagged with he could use a hug

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