<div class="floatleft">(http://i27.photobucket.com/albums/c195/TheOneTheOnlyTheShane/0000ryt3.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Erik Crowley<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Shadow<br/><strong>Dorm Assignment:</strong>Floor 2, Room 4<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Auditorium<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 2nd, early evening<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Cassie, Megan, open<br/><hr/><br/><br/>It's kind of hilarious, in a way, if anybody saw 'Charlie' moving around the walls. The snake emerged from a pool of shadows, and suddenly turned itself into three exclamation points, before disappearing entirely. As Cassie's touch brings him out of his mind, so to speak, his shadow returns to behaving exactly like one would expect a shadow to. His hand lowered from his face, and he offered the girl a weak, but<em>seemingly</em>sincere smile. "Hi, I'm Erik. Nice to meet you. I'm okay, just got a headache." He spoke smoothly. Some may realize he's actually a very good liar and has a really good poker face, but some might not pick it up. The real 'tell' is in how quickly he seemed to do a 180. Just a bit too quick to be natural, if one knew what to look for.<br/><br/>But, Hey, it's not a real lie! More like a white one.  It's not why he was being the way he was, but he did have one. Cassie will almost definitely note the very obvious sun glasses he was wearing, tinted a heavy black.  Most people would never get to see him without those glasses; the only time he really could take them off was when it was almost pitch black.<br/><br/>Also, the girl with the brilliantly colored hair seems to swoop on in, and provides a good distraction from people that might try to analyze him. When he greets her, everything seems natural, even if the anxiety was lingering there, like a simmering pot on the back burner. "Hi, Megan. I'm Eric. Or Shadow, which is what I do. You ever been to New York?" He inquired, politely, as he shook her hand.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, 'Charlie seemed to be at it again, the shadow seeming to pull itself away from the one who ought to cast it. For anybody paying attention to that peculiarity, they'd see it seemingly twirl, as if waltzing, spinning and twirling first Cassie's shadow, then  Megan's... but somewhere in the twirling of the last one, both of the shadows seem to blend together into an amorphous, pulsating mass that defied the logic of how shadows usually operate.<br/><br/>"I'm not really doing that, though. My shadow has its own mind about things. I call him Charlie." He would say, while chuckling, face lighting up a bit; though the dark glasses tended to detract from the intended expression.