Johnny Come Lately
From Changeling Venue
| Seeming | Beast Runnerswift |
|---|---|
| Court | Winter Court •• |
| Freehold | The Freehold of Youthful Springs |
| Player | Clete Collum |
Contents |
Overview
Alias(es): John Cummings
Real Name: Johnston Worth, Esq. (though the fetch has it now)
Age: 27-ish
Concept: Courier for crimelords and cutpurses alike
Entitlement: None, yet
Physical description:
Relevant Mechanics:
Character Information
Known History
Basic Timeline:
Current Activities:
Merit Details:
Background:
Motley
Allies
Enemies
Character Inspirations
Random Interview
The source of this recording has yet to be confirmed.
*recording starts*
Glad to do it. I have to say, you're looking very nice tonight. I hope that this interview wasn't the only reason that you called, of course. *laughs* Sorry, sorry, where do you want to start?
- Tell me what you don’t like about yourself…
--Pre-Kidnapping--
- How old are you? What year were you born?
I think I'm 27. At least, I hope I am. I was born in 1980, so I should be 27 and I feel 27.
- Who were you before you were taken? Who did you want to be? What were your goals and fears? Describe your mortal life in as many details as you can.
You want to know about before? Man, talk about hard questions. I feel like I should be talking to Barbara Walters about this or something. Do you have kleenex handy? You do? Oh. Sorry, me, you wanted to know about me. *sighs* Well, I know you might think of this as humility or something, but I was nothing before. No, really. An average student in school, awkward with the girls, no sports, no clubs, no friends. One group took notice of me, though, picked on me. They were, I don't know, punks or skaters or something, I didn't ask. They dressed different, were angry a lot, and thought they were better than me. They shaped my greatest goal in school - to get away from them forever. I dodged them mostly by running through service corridors and hiding in a maintenance room-shed-thing. Ended up doing that so much, I started putting up pictures and things in it. I'd sometimes go there even when they weren't chasing me, just to kind of escape and be me. It let me avoid the hard questions like "how will I get by after high school?" since I knew I wasn't going to get into any colleges, and "what am I good at anyway?". Those little shits made me feel worse about myself when I got away from them than when they caught me. At least after I was caught I'd have bruises and some anger and pain to distract me from my worthlessness. *sniffles* Sorry, it's nothing keep going.
- How old were you when your Keeper took you?
I remember spending my sixteenth birthday alone in my hideaway, so sixteen I guess.
- Describe your kidnapping.
I already knew it was going to be a bad morning from the rain. The punks -- yeah, you'd think I'd remember their names, wouldn't you -- they were especially moody that day, and I think their older cousin was in town or something, I don't know but I knew it was bad. As I ran that day, I learned that they had put some of their numbers ahead along my path to try to head me off. I just kept running and running, desperate to get away from them. I thought I'd found reached my sanctuary, my safety, only to discover that today the door was locked. For the first time ever. I could hear them coming, the fear rising in my throat, and that's when I heard it. Or at least I think I heard it. "This way... this way to safety..." I bolted, ducking and weaving through new passages that I didn't remember. My desperation grew so much that when I heard "Do you want me to distract them?" and practically screamed "Yes, please gods, yes. Anything, just don't let them catch me!" It was only a brief glimpse, and I convinced myself I saw things later on, but I passed myself headed in the other direction. And then... Well, we all know what happens then.
--Across the Hedge--
- How many days/month/years were you in Faerie in Earth time?
Almost four years.
- How long were you in Faerie in Arcadia time?
Why do you have to ask that? Time, over there? As a friend said often, "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies." Don't ask me how long I was there. *sighs* Fine. An eternity? No? *pauses* I'm not sure. There are distinct periods of memory, like a beginning-middle-end or a three movie trilogy or something. But don't ask me how long they actually lasted. I mean, look at me, though. They couldn't have really lasted that long, could they? Could they?
- Tell me about your Keeper. Who was s/he? Did he or she (or it?) treat you kindly? Cruelly? Capriciously? How did your Keeper interact with the other Fae?
It saved me from those punks, so I guess I owe it that much. Or I would have, if it hadn't turned out to be a much worse bully. I don't know it's name, but I know it liked to hunt. A lot. For sport, I think, but don't sports have rules? It hunted with beasts and trackers, in groups and alone. There were times it would hunt with it's fellows. And often, they hunted me. After all, what's a foxhunt without a fox, right? No matter how far I ran, or how well I hid, or how long it took to catch me, it always brought me back to be ready for the next hunt. *shudders* To this day I still don't like dogs. Or dog-like things. Or things named "dog".
- What about your time in Faerie? What were your days like? Were you a hunter or a servant? Maybe a court fool? Describe an average, nothing special sort of day.
Running. Fleeing. Navigating the grounds, the woods, the moors to get away from those blasted hounds and the master behind them. *pauses* Yeah, I know what you're thinking, but I did answer the question. See, the special sorts of days were the ones where I got to rest in the kennels between hunts.
- Is your seeming similar to your Keeper’s, or does it reflect your environment? Were you shaped for a specific purpose?
I was prey, a toy. It was a hunter. And for all I know, it grew the environment to match me.
--Being Lost--
- How did you escape? Did you have help?
Uh, *snort* Help? What's that? With the Gentry around, who has time for kindness, much less kindness towards others? No, see, I kept getting faster and faster, and the time it took to hunt me grew longer and longer. One day, I just kept going. I don't know if it grew tired of following me, or if I outsmarted it, but that day I just kept missing, kept thinking of my maintenance room. I'd convinced myself that if I could ever get back there, it wouldn't be able to find me again. Yeah, I know, that's where it found me the first time, but you try running at full speed for over a week and see how clearly you're thinking.
- Tell me about your Fetch. Are they alive? Dead? If they are alive, do they appear younger or older than you do? Are they happy? Does it matter?
Oh, it's alive. Well, at least the last I checked. See, those punks caught up with it, and they did beat it but good. A few hours later and a janitor found it lying there broken, barely alive. After a lengthy hospital stay, and an investigation and a lawsuit, it got a very nice settlement from the school system. It had little to do but read while in the hospital, so it did. And it got inspired by it's tragedy. It went to law school. It is now a children's welfare and legal advocate. Twenty-seven fucking years old, and it's already made something of a name for itself. MY name. *pauses* Sorry, I'm okay. It can have the name anyway. It's not like I could pass for a lawyer.
- Do you want your old life back? Why? Why not?
Want what back? The life that I had was mediocre shit. And the life that it made in my place? That's not me, I can't be that. I can't even fake that. So, what's the point? Stay the hell away from it, I say.
- How old do you appear to be? Younger or older than you should be?
As I said before, 27. I feel 27. I think I look 27. Do I look 27? *pauses* Well, I guess it wouldn't be proper for you to answer that, would it. But thanks for not saying that I look old, or laughing.
- What do you look like? What color is your hair? How do you dress? Do you have distinguishing marks? What does your seeming look like?
My mask, oh, well, hmmm... I don't look at it often, you see. Dusty colored hair, I guess. Like you'd think it's greyish, but then the light hits it and it looks more brownish, so you figure that maybe there's just dust or ash in it, but then it doesn't look dirty or dusty, and then you'd think on it more but by that time I'm either talking to you or already gone. Guess I drifted a little there. You asked about my clothes. Some people dress for comfort, and some people dress for success, and some dress for sex. Me, I dress for pockets. Well, pockets and mobility. Getting from A to B is my game, and taking things with me pays the bills. Is it stylish? Well, it can be. And vests are removable. Well, all clothes are removable, now aren't they? *rustling sounds* Oh, right, my seeming. I don't know why you're asking me, you're looking right at me. Oh, right, the recording. *sighs* My hair is more like grey fur, which I generally keep "sexily" unkempt. Sometime my fox ears poke up through the fur. I don't wear shorts, so my fox-like running legs don't show. I keep my face trimmed to maintain the soft, downy feel.
- How do you react to changeling society? Are you looking to create a new life as a changeling? Do you wish to be “cured?” What are your current goals in life? Do you have a motley? A position in the local Freehold?
How should I react? It's the only life I have left. The Winter Court, they got the right idea. If I had only stayed hiding in my hole, none of this would've happened. But what can you do? Now I stay hiding by staying moving. The courier business is booming for me. After all, not everyone can trust things to UPS, plus my packages don't have to go to some "central processing" before getting delivered. Sure, the legality of it all is questionable, but then why should I care. I don't exist anymore, something else is busy being me... *long pause* Motleys require trust, and more importantly they require you to slow down. Haven't felt I could do that yet. 'Course, that means I don't get trusted often in return. Fair's fair. I keep my head down, I'm good to my word -- when I give it. The rest of them either appreciate that silently, or... *intake of breath* Hey, you know, I'm not sure I'm up for this anymore. Perhaps another time, if you have more questions. Now, what do you say we do grab some dinner and then perhaps we could --
*recording ends*
