Flashback [Flashback] This Is Why The Good Die Young (Closed)

[Calen]

Day 01 fall 512 AV The rain pelted against the windows and walls with an almost inconsiderate amount of force; almost as if to say, just as that body in the coffin hinted, mother nature ran this bitch. The wind mimicked the howling of one of Calen's many, obese aunts, he could only see the woman on the very edge of his peripheral vision and he did not intend to waste any time figuring out who it was; the only real way to tell his aunts apart was to gauge them by degrees of rotundness, bust and horrific unattractiveness. Needless to say, Calen was not looking forward to having to hug any of them. He also wasn't looking forward to the walk from the funeral home to his dormitory; being soaked to the bone was a thought about as attractive as his aunt Cecilia. Strangely enough, now that he thought about it, Calen could not remember a single time in his eighteen years where he had hugged his aunts or uncles. With the one exception of his Uncle Liam, who had died all those years ago. He had been the only one who didn't believe Calen to be a queer little fellow; he was going to have to remember to put some flowers at his grave. It was just as Calen made this little mental note that he felt something rather sharp jab him in the thigh. Reacting purely upon his poorly honed instincts, Calen turned to face whatever had touched him. Unfortunately, Calen realized two things a bit too late; one, the thing that had touched him was the bony index finger of one of his annoying younger cousins and two, he was leading with his left hand in a manner that would result in a back-hand slap. Oh and what a slap it was! Having unintentionally put his back and hips into the blow, Calen sent the scrawny, black haired youth stumbling backwards into his gargantuan mother. For an instant Calen was lost in the sheer splendor of his aunt's almost purely spherical form. It was like someone had taken a ball, stuck it on some stubby, disgusting stilts and plopped a dress on it. Unfortunately, Calen’s gawking was cut short as withered, callused hand dropped itself heavily upon his shoulder, turning him forcibly to face its owner. Calen instantly recognized his Uncle Roy. Though Calen typically had trouble putting names to faces, it was hard to forget a face when you hated the person it was attached to and they hated you right back. Calen's nose wrinkled instantly and he began to squint as his uncle's sour breath leaked forth from that appalling catastrophe he called a mouth; it was as if the man had never heard of oral hygiene before. Which, now that Calen thought about it, was actually quite possible. "You want to explain why you're trying to beat my kid" his uncle snarled. It was less a question and more of a statement, not that it made much sense as one. In fact, it made so little sense that Calen found himself ceased by the urge to inform his uncle of this. Fortunately, or unfortunately, dependent on how one viewed the situation, Calen found himself cut off just as he opened his mouth to reply. Having appeared seemingly out of nowhere, Calen's father managed to jostle his son free of his brother-in-law's grasp with a firm push on the both of their chests. "Alright gentlemen, I think its time Calen said a few words about your brother, Roy. After all, you guys can always talk later" Calen's father, a man of about Calen's height, size and athletic prowess, precisely none, seemed perfectly at home speaking to Roy. Calen wasn't sure whether it was because his father did not understand that Roy could probably pummel him or if it was because of some belief his father held that Roy couldn't. Either way, it was amusing. Logically enough, Roy perceived the interruption much less positively, walking away, his wife waddling after him and his son scurrying in pursuit. Turning to face his father, Calen caught the wisp of a smirk on his lips, but nothing concrete. "Go up there and give a speech about your Uncle Ray, would you Calen?" now while his father seemed enough of an intellectual to remember to end the request with an inflection that made it clear it was a question, he seemed profoundly stupid enough to believe that Calen had anything good to say about his late uncle. It was Calen opened his mouth to point out this flaw in his knowledge base that he found himself propelled by his father, who seemed to be deceptively strong, towards the front of the hall, near where the coffin was elevated on a podium. Calen was going to have to remember to get revenge on his father for this; there was no way a crime this heinous could go without punishment. Clearing his throat so as to both gather attention and give himself time to think, Calen decided to simply jump right into it; if he was going down, he was going down kicking and screaming. "What can anybody say about my Uncle Ray" Calen began, sweeping over the crowd with his eyes, making sure to meet the gaze of at least half of them. He figured it couldn't HURT his chances of not botching this up too terribly. "My Uncle Ray was a many of....great character" Calen knew the instant the words left his mouth that they were lies and that everyone within earshot who had actually known Ray knew that, but nonetheless, Calen's words managed to elicit another bout of sobs from the more emotional crowd members. "I remember on one occasion, my uncle Ray took me fishing" Calen was lying through his teeth and he intended to love every minute of it "because my father was too busy helping my brother throw rocks at some neighbor boys" he also intended to have his father hate every minute of it. Needless to say, his last revelation had drawn a mixture of snickers, gasps and one look of utter rage from a man about Calen's size who Calen owed half his genetic make-up to. Calen then set into motion his plan to get out of further impromptu speech preparation and recitation. Closing his eyes and adopting what he imagined was an appropriately pained and melancholy expression, Calen began to prepare his body by releasing a small, almost completely unnoticeable, to users of auristics or otherwise, of Res. The Res was released and contained in a small ball in the palm of his upturned palm. Focusing, Calen morphed and molded, slowly and meticulously changing the, now, near formless energy into one of the two elements he was familiar with, air. In layman terms, he made a small ball of wind to irritate his eyes. Raising his hand, the air moving with it due to the fact that only it's outermost layer was made of air and the inner was still easily manipulated res, Calen clapped his palm over the bridge of his nose, thus propelling a portion of the exceptionally small gust into his eye. Biting back the urge to jump or flinch, Calen allowed the irritation to his eyes take its hold and tears began to flow, exactly as he planned. "I-I-I'm sorry everyone" Calen whispered shakily as he rushed away from the podium. The voice shaking was more due to his sudden urge to sneeze than anything else, which he did just outside of the room where the body was currently being held. Just as he had expected, he had a quite a few murmurs and more than one 'Poor thing'. Smiling inwardly, though he kept up a solemn expression he turned to walk back into the room, still rubbing his left eye. Taking a step backwards, having been caught off guard Calen found himself face to face with his father who looked anything but pleased. "We're going to have a nice long chat about this later, you know that, right." He said it as more of a statement than he did a question.

[Arcane]

Rewards and Treasure! Experience Points +1 Reimancy +2 Subterfuge +2 Acting Lores Utilizing Magic in Acting Making a Speech at Uncle Ray's Funeral I am going to get fixed by Dad Comments This is so hilarious! I would wished to see more of Calen being sarcastic and all that... I would've been even more generous with the XP Good job! I hope to see more of such quality humor and of Calen's antics in the future