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Dariusprime

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About Dariusprime

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  • Birthday 01/21/1982

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  1. In for a penny, in for a pound. Is that how it went? Having extended the olive branch, Nick must have decided to make the best of it. Ashley's raised voice startled him as he began typing. The tiny smile he hid must have been about what she said to them. Although to be frank, "Fun-Sized Mark Walhberg" was pretty good zinger. At the thought, he glanced over to Claude before going back to typing. His new message read, "I bet we can make peace. Worth a try? Please?" As held up the tablet, he glanced back and forth between the sisters. He pointedly did not look in the direction of the boys working on the cube. Nope.
  2. Nick didn't really know what else to do. His appointed rounds complete, including offering a hug to Abby, he hovered by the snack table and accepted a slice of pie. The stories made him lose his appetite. A poke or two at the pie with his fork and he opted to eat it, if only to be polite to Lulu. Beyond that though he listened and watched and tried to be supportive. He voted, hesitantly, after looking around to see if he was legible to do so. Ill-at-ease transitioned to visible discomfort. He glanced at the door with the plain intent of perhaps sneaking out. The club centered the right people. He was a fifth wheel so to speak. Although unexpressed, Nick thought Mia would be an excellent officer. One, she didn't like hierarchy and thus would understand the responsibility. Two, she didn't really sound like she wanted a officer role. In Nick's mind, someone that didn't want "political" power was the perfect person for the job. As he inched his way towards the door, he gave her a thumbs up and nodded his support. Maybe she interpreted it as more support for Abby or herself. Either way was a win.
  3. Nick couldn't help but feel amused by Aquaria's mannerisms. The chameleon eyes especially made him smile. That didn't subtract from the conversation, but for lack of a better term, actually "humanized" her somewhat for him. She was already a person in the philosophical sense, but the more he interacted with her, the more she real she felt. Her seeming defensiveness though did subtract from the conversation. The reply reminded him of the talk earlier. She had to carefully phrase and dance around certain subjects. Didn't always work given the reaction from some of the students. The Atlanteans he understood, even if he didn't understand the history. But curiosity remained, and Nick hoped he could find a way to continue the conversation. Constructively and politely. "That's the issue," he wrote on the tablet, "That's what I'm asking. The mechanics of human speech that hurt your throat can be quantified. Understood on a physical level. Adapting for language outside of your normal range." He ran a finger around the edge of the tablet, and after they finished reading, presented another message momentarily, "You are saying that Lemurian has deleterious effects on the human brain. I want to know the hows and whys." "I'm hearing is that understanding the words is the problem. What are 'words that go beyond your words' then?" He munched on a double chocolate chip cookie as he presented the message. Offered the plate of cookies to the two again as a cover for creeping anxiety.
  4. Nick grimaced as he slid off the scooter. A quick stretch and pop of his back signaled that he was okay. Just that the ride didn't exactly do his tailbone any comfort. A few circles and he stood up straight. Adjusting his shoulder bag, NIck shrugged at the scooter comment and hung the helmet up. He signed, "No need. Faster anyway." He glanced at Claude curiously at the follow up but said nothing. Or signed rather. That house though. Nick looked it over approvingly. Craftsman style did not occur often in his neck of the woods, and he seemed to like it. Then he paused as his senses took the place in. The sensation was akin to watching an out-of-sync video. He blinked and turned his attention to Claude. Nick wondered what the big secret could be. Having his world turned upside down ironically made him more open-minded. Claude was really a cyborg from the future? He was an apprentice to a shape-shifting dragon with a Boston accent? He was, in fact, the Scout from Team Fortress 2? The weirdness of the property suggested the dragon. "My pleasure," he signed as the two headed up to the door. He smiled and patted Claude on the back reassuringly. Everyone had secrets, and if by choice or necessity, certain ones needed to be shared, then Nick would keep them. Standing on the front porch, Nick turned and looked over the property. The neighborhood sounds were...gone. Even some of the cosmic particles that whistled in the undertone felt muted. Except for a tinkling rhythm at once familiar and foreign. His smile faltered a bit, but he turned his attention back to the door.
  5. Okay, late to the party. Rolling and will edit as needed, AA! Search: 1d20+5 = 12.
  6. "That is all I ask," Nick signed back. Retrieving his tablet, Nick looped around the ill-fated cube and back to the Judy and Ashley. His gaze followed the action among the cube group. Took a lot of willpower to refrain from doing a "I'm watching you" gesture at the cube itself. Eventually, he stopped next to the pair, still watching the techies set up their experiment. His thoughts dwelt equally on the cube and his brief conversation with Claude. Actually stopping the other group himself seemed unlikely, and the few moments journey let him rationalize its safety. Surely, such a thing couldn't be that dangerous. Maybe fry Ben's computer but nothing more. Claude's keen eye watched it now. Even if Nick's censored version of Claude's "time cop" rule book still felt worrisome. 'No one can serve two masters' and all. Plus Ms. Velasquez stood ready to intervene. Right? Looking to the sisters, Nick typed out a message, "I should get back to my group. Would you like to join us? Be easier for Ms. Velasquez to keep up on two groups too."
  7. Nick left straight away after breakfast and chores. The hike to the seacoast intrigued him the most, and off he set into the brush. The hike took him nearly three hours. Leisurely walking and frequent pauses under falling leaves ate up the time. Classmates heading to the sea likely spotted him dozing under a tree. Eventually, his path emerged onto the rocks where he overlooked the sea. A sea he had never seen before. Today the topic centered on the theme of the trip: birdwatching. He spent hours with his arms wrapped around his knees watching the seabirds. His mind processed the sounds as it always did. The quiet however shifted the process from a frantic search for understanding to a tranquil inquiry. One of the few conscious thoughts the entire day came as a mental note to thank Lulu for the meditation lessons. This must be what serenity felt like. In the late afternoon, a parakeet landed on a rock near his perch. The bird studied him. He studied it back. It chirped. He listened and smiled. Only days later would he learn about the species and its extinction. In this moment, the birds, whales, and the deep rumblings of the sea were about perfect solitude. Until the radio signal came. Slowly his head turned toward the source. Davyd needed help, and his calculations suggested a location down the beach. Turning back to the rock, the bird was gone. Nick smiled, stood up without aches or pains, and stretched. A quick check of landmarks, and the location of his rocky perch, followed. Once confident of his navigation, Nick scrambled down the rocks and jogged along the beach hoping to spot Davyd.
  8. As the stories began, Nick began looking more ill-at-ease again. In this case, the awkwardness began creeping back into his shuffling in place. Eventually, he steeled his courage and began signing. Realizing the obvious issue, out came the battered tablet he usually carried. Frowning and shuffling, he held up the tablet like at chest level. The framed message and stance looked like a mug shot. The tablet read, "I haven't spoke to my favorite cousin since I was eight. My family cut off contact." The message only displayed for a few seconds. Tablet on the table, Nick held out his arms in offer of a hug to Lulu. Looked like she needed one. Then he offered to Mia, Ashley, and Àjàṣorò. Àjàṣorò hadn't shared yet, but her earlier round of introductions keyed her as a hugger. Nick had been otherwise engaged with cupcakes at the time.
  9. Nick cocked his head to the side as his face scrunched up in thought. To Lulu, and perhaps Aquaria, he looked quite confused. Vague hand gestures, half-formed ASL words, punctuated his thought process. Finally though, he typed a reply and held up the tablet. Now looking both bashful and curious. "How could a language have such a profound effect? Your Lemurian was translated in real time, and I can hear the components outside of normal human range." He didn't add the tongue-in-cheek rejoinder about going mad from the revelation. Once they finished reading, he turned the tablet to begin typing but stopped. One thing at a time as he concentrated on Aquaria for her answer. So many more questions.
  10. Nick shifted uncomfortably at being the center of attention. He looked back-and-forth between Lulu and Aquaria. Now that the opportunity presented itself, all of his questions fled his mind. Quickly, a review of his thoughts were conducted. Standing there, he seemed to be staring off in thought for a moment or two. A lot of them focused on convincing himself to even ask Aquaria anything. Probably one of the reasons for his vanishing act. Others approached from the angle of what sorts of questions to ask. He didn't want to focus on trivial, though to him very interesting, things lest he annoy her. Conversely, he didn't want to get lost in the clouds with big picture questions. The central thread was that he had a lot of questions. Taking a slow breath, he began typing on his tablet. He held up the resulting question for them to read, looking a bit bashful. "Why exactly is Lemurian unhealthy for Surfacers?"
  11. Nick somehow dragged his attention from Ben and gave Mia a thumbs up before moving his seat so she could join the group. He looked at Judy for her preference before focusing back on Octo-Ben. His shenanigans were already the stuff of legend and very endearing, if he was honest. Seeing him on the ceiling, calling out for telepathic(?) assistance, didn't really phase Nick. Hearing Heroditus not only volunteer but possibly suggest the perfect interface between the cube and Ben's computer filled him with dread. Now Nick had enough self awareness to know he was a bit of a scaredy cat. Well, more like cautious in his own opinion. Still he only needed a few seconds to realize he didn't like this idea. Combining Ben's mad skills and programmable matter should be done under...more controlled conditions. Not that he distrusted Ben. He seemed like good octo-people. Heroditus, although he didn't know him well, seemed generally quite level-headed too. But this was ill-advised. Benny spurred him into action. For the most part, Nick had been polite and inclusive with Benny as anyone else. After all this was Claremont. Looks really didn't mean much here. Benny though had the look of someone that had seen or started some stuff. If he was nervous, something was afoot. Now he just had to deal with the situation in a productive manner. His face furrowed in thought. Typing on his tablet, he held it up for Judy and Mia, "Would you excuse me a moment please?" After which he moved quickly. A big circle around the cube landed him next to Claude. The tablet passed to the Bostonian, reading in small font, "Would you make sure they don't blow up the school or call forth Dagon or something? You're trained for this weirdness. Please?" He didn't want to plead, but the small teen looked worked up and kept glancing at Ben's cube.
  12. Nick figured out a couple of things between cupcakes. One, the cupcakes were among the best he ever had. Barring his grandmother's, but bias may have been in play there. Two, the room had a certain tension. He couldn't put his finger on it precisely. Judy played a gracious host and tried to break the ice. Yet the arrivals felt rather awkward. Hesitant even. Àjàṣorò tried valiantly. Nick knew Lulu would likely try the same. How then to get the ball rolling? Thankfully, the other cupcake brought his fidgeting under control. Still his gaze crossed the room looking a little confused as well as out-of-place. He really had no clue how a meeting like this should proceed. Although unknowing, Lulu and Nick came from similar situations. The Iowan may be coming out of his shell a bit, but this situation came completely uncharted. During his musings, Nick gave a thumbs up at Elizabeth's praise of the cupcakes. Nick's enthusiasm seconded their high quality. Pie beckoned though. Nick moved away from the snack table to make room for Lulu and Mia. Lulu didn't need telepathy to know the target of his next snack attack. He smiled and nodded in greeting to Mia as Lulu set down the pie. Letting things develop naturally was the safe bet. That thought seemed to placate him a bit, judging from his shoulders relaxing.
  13. Nick froze at receiving a new signal. The signal felt...strange...to say the least. The analysis rang strongly of matter-anti-matter and sounded like what he would guess a black hole would sound like. He slowly turned and watched wide-eyed at Leroy's display. Yes, the prince impressed him. Especially given the effort required! Once the strange object emerged, Nick pursed his lips to whistle but managed to clap his hand over his mouth in time. The energy signature from the block pulsed alongside the glow, an eerie, cosmic chant that was at once mesmerizing and sending chills up his spine. He decided, for his own sanity, to study it at a respectful distance. That Judy had another block of the stuff on her desk made Nick blink. Now while it wouldn't put out anything dangerous, particularly to Judy, the "programmable matter" thing still made Nick nervous, and he looked it with a bout of fidgeting with his hands. Part of him was curious as to what the "thing with the lights" entailed though. Thankfully, his conversation with Judy picked back up. Typing away, the tablet read, "No sleeping or eating? Lucky! Seriously though, how about Tuesdays and Thursdays around 4 pm? We can practice until dinnertime. Add time/days as needed." The follow up message, after glancing around the room and ignoring the creepy Lego, read, "I'll see if I can scavenge up some old computers and other electronics. If you fry them, they go into the recycling." Surely Claremont had at least a closet of old office devices, or failing that, the local thrift shops had to have a few Windows 98 PCs languishing in obscurity. They would go to a good cause or go out in a blaze of glory! Maybe their new teacher would know a cache?
  14. Nick returning to the group of Mia, Micah, and Claude was the original plan. As noted though, herding cats.
  15. The peace reminded Nick of good memories. Going down to the creek by his great uncle's house and fishing all day. And sometimes all night. Watching the stars. Setting campfire food ablaze. Laughing at his uncle's corny jokes. Good times. Better days. Up until that point, Nick pitched in with enthusiasm. One couldn't call him a survivalist, but he knew enough to pull his own weight whipping the camp into shape. All the while he listened, listened, listened. Every once in a while he'd freeze in place and stare off. Occasionally, what interested him was readily apparent. Like the very large tom turkey that studied the camp in the late afternoon. Other times he seemed to stare off blankly into the trees. Though loathe to admit it, the whales singing lower than human hearing intrigued him the most. While he couldn't sing along with Snow White, Nick did clap along with the song. Before the delicious campfire cookin' put him out, Nick could be spotted stargazing across a sky that had never known human pollution. Jupiter sang loud and clear, and if he concentrated, he swore he could hear the rumblings of Io's volcanoes. The cosmic microwave background stole the show though. As the soothing echoes put him to sleep, he felt like he was listening to the divine.
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