Ainmhian Sample

Who: Jeff Calhoun (bardish) & Open
What: A semi-belated arrival catch-all!
When: Jeff's first few weeks
Where: Mostly around the castle
Warning(s): Drug use in one prompt. Possible references to past addiction and recent violence/torture. Will warn in threads where appropriate.
It says a lot about how utterly fucked up his life's become that getting kidnapped by the fae doesn't even break the top ten list of weird and/or traumatizing things that have happened in the past six months. If anything, it's kind of a relief, a little chance for some long-overdue R&R after a bout of imprisonment, torture, and demonic possession.

(And that's not even getting into the super unethical science experiments, rampaging deities, and weird sex stuff that came before the whole imprisonment/torture/demon thing.)

(Boy, there's still so much for him to process.)

So that's why Jeff spends his first few days wallowing in his bed. He may leave for the absolute necessities of food, water, and hygiene, but otherwise, he might as well be a ghost, haunting one of the bedrooms in the Spring Wing. Still, people passing by his room may overhear some singing from time to time. It's mostly classic rock, artists like Bowie, Queen, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones-- the kind of stuff he never really sang on stage, but would always turn back to for comfort. The first songs he ever learned. Music that reminds him of his childhood.

He may be a reclusive sad-sack right now, but if anyone's curious enough to knock on the door, he won't turn them away.

After a few days of this, Jeff can at least put on a smile and act like his usual self, which, thank god, because he's starting to go totally stir crazy in this room. He's got such long legs, he needs to go out and stretch them! And it looks like the castle itself agrees, because as soon as he sets out and turns a corner, only to chicken out and turn around, it hides his goddamn room from him. Either it's fucking with him, or it's looking out for his mental well-being. Either way, it's time for Jeff to really explore his new home.

(Don't worry, the castle lets him find his room again when it's time for bed.)

In the common areas, Jeff hangs around looking through books-- particularly any book about magic or the fae-- poring over them with a bright-eyed curiosity. He'll also strike up a conversation with just about anyone who happens to be nearby, here and at mealtimes, no matter how grumpy or stand-offish they seem. Even Vilo the satyr isn't safe from his labrador retriever-like levels of enthusiastic friendliness. Sometimes, Jeff even tries to start a jam session with Vilo. Please distract him before the grumpy satyr throws something at him. (Or rescue Vilo from Jeff's persistent friendliness.)

Once he's more acclimated, Jeff starts to leave the castle more and more, exploring the city, venturing into the Wilds little by little. Mostly, he'll either go for a run, or he can be found simply... relaxing. Sitting in the grass, head tipped back, humming softly, a smile on his face as he takes in the nature and magic around him. (Yeah, he's totally blazed about 50% of the time. The weed at NeverLand is some good shit.)

Oh and you'd better believe that Jeff takes his time enjoying the baths in the Spring Wing. There's another place you can find him singing, doing some magic as he makes sparkling lights dance together with the falling petals. It's silly and frivolous, the magical equivalent of eating candy. But after the shit he's seen lately, before getting pulled to this world, it's a comforting sort of magic.

Pretty. Harmless. Doesn't drive people into a violent frenzy that ends with guts spilled all over the floor.

Sometimes, Jeff can't stop himself from thinking about it, even in these moments. That's when his breath hitches at the memory, and he chokes over the melody of his spell, magical lights flickering out as the petals lifelessly fall into the water.

"Fuck."