[Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Rook Seidhr on 30-03-2017, 04:57:00</h2>
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				Title: <strong>[Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rook Seidhr</strong> on <strong>30-03-2017, 04:57:00</strong>
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				This is an IC thread for "Welcome to Holy Question Mark," a game of the Amber Diceless RPG run by Rook Seidhr. It is dedicated to transcripts and summaries of scenes that involve Meliai's character Maple MacAlistair but not other PCs.<br><ul class="bbc_list"><li>OOC thread (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=264140.0)</li><li>IC—The Socinian Institute (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=264461.0)</li><li>Wiki (https://elliquiy.com/wiki/Welcome_to_Holy_Question_Mark)</li></ul>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rook Seidhr</strong> on <strong>30-03-2017, 17:43:35</strong>
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				Much of what Maple has done in solo scenes consisted of Trump-related experiments, alone and with BC, and I think I already summarized the results of those OOC elsewhere. If I haven't, I will post a summary in this message.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Meliai</strong> on <strong>05-04-2017, 12:27:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f9/MaplePortrait1.png)</div><strong>Character</strong>: Maple MacAlistair<br><strong>Who:</strong> <br><strong>Where:</strong> 908 East Tower<br><strong>When:</strong> 4th arrangement, near the end<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Clicky link! (http://www.polyvore.com/frogrun/set?id=217844701)<br><hr><br>Maple heads to the rooftop garden and finds a nice, out of the way spot to sit. She pulls her sketchbook out (her every day sketchbook, a much-abused spiral-bound number, not the smaller black moleskine that holds her slowly growing collection of permanent 'wizard portraits') and dumps a small mountain of pens and pencils and markers out on the grass to her side. Next, headphones. The sound of unseen traffic below isn't quite enough to keep out intrusive thoughts. She pulls up an all-purpose playlist and gets to work.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rook Seidhr</strong> on <strong>05-04-2017, 13:18:58</strong>
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				<strong>Who:</strong> Maple<br><strong>Where:</strong> Socinian Institute rooftop garden<br><strong>When:</strong> End of 4th Arrangement until 5 PM or so<br><hr>Maple's first attempt at a Trump sketch of Min-joon as he had been before last weekend is unsuccessful. Maple knows that she had looked at Min-joon before—in fact, she can find more than one (non-Trump) sketch of the boy in her notebook, made during dull moments in Shakespeare class—but to her inner eye, the memory of how he used to be has been overwritten with the memory of how he was before he died: hollow, threatening. It's as though the emptiness inside Min-joon ate not only the boy, but the boy's metaphysical properties, going backward through time. Or something.<br><br>Maple's try at a Trump sketch of the hollow Min-joon goes more smoothly, but it remains warm: no one to whom to connect, apparently. Park Min-joon has left the building.<br><br>She considers making a third sketch, of the hollowness without the veneer of Min-joon, but it seems like a bad idea: what if the emptiness spread from the page to her?<br><br>All in all, these experiments take more than an hour.
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rook Seidhr</strong> on <strong>09-04-2017, 21:11:41</strong>
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				<em><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">Posted with Meliai's permission</span></em><br><br><strong>Maple's Sketchbook, March 14, 2017</strong><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Image (large)</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f5/MapleDiaryPenn.jpg)</div></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Transcript of image</div><div class="spoiler_body">March 14<br><br>Penn's been acting strange lately. She keeps approaching like she wants to talk or something, then aborting the mission before she actually makes contact.<br><br>Weird.<br><br>Perhaps recruiting for some kind of coven? I know she's the most violently Catholic woman alive but I was hoping at least <strong>one</strong> of the heathen cults grandma was concerned about would try and recruit me. Maybe I should wear more black?<br><br>Very sad someone so cute insists on dressing so blandly<br><br>Pretty sure the fact that she pulls off black lipstick IS WITCHCRAFT (no seriously how is it always perfect?)</div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rook Seidhr</strong> on <strong>09-04-2017, 22:01:34</strong>
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				<strong>Character:</strong> Penn Solomon<br><strong>Who:</strong> Maple<br><strong>Where:</strong> Penn's room in West Tower<br><strong>When:</strong> a little after 5 PM<br><br>Maple takes a meandering route to the dorm tower, turning Min-joon's phone over in her hand the whole way. She eventually ends up at Penn's door and knocks after pocketing the phone. Min-joon's laptop is still in her messenger bag.<br><br>After a moment, Penn opens the door. She looks immaculate, different T-shirt than this morning (this one has a fretwork of interlaced pentacles in white on a black background), makeup apparently freshly redone. When she sees Maple, she smiles a little (a rarity for Penn). "Come in," she says, and steps aside.<br><br>Maple blinks in surprise at the smile, but smiles back. She does not ask if Penn's entirely sure she wasn't possessed. Too soon. "Hey," she says, moving inside. "Everything okay with your surprise visitor I take it? No one coming to drag you back to class~?"<br><br>Penn has a single, which is unusual. The bed is covered with crap—books, papers, a couple of medium-sized cardboard boxes the contents of which Maple cannot see without going over and poking around, a fishing tackle box, a small titanium briefcase of the sort used by technicians for tools and such, and a collection of a half-dozen padlocks of assorted brands and shapes. At a guess, Penn must sleep curled up in the big beanbag chair by the window.<br><br>"I'm fine," Penn says. "Dr. Balthazar is giving out excuse notes like candy. Happy birthday." She seems not to think of this as a non-sequitur.<br><br>Maple blinks and the precise moment she remembers it's her birthday is practically broadcast across her face. "Oh! Oh…um, thank you."<br><br>"I got you a present," Penn says. "It's over on the windowsill."<br><br>It's a bonsai. It's a bonsai…dwarf Japanese maple? An elegant little tree, sculpted in an organic asymmetry, in a pot that's a marvel of its own—hand-thrown pottery, cracked and then repaired with gold mortar.<br><br>Maple stops and sort of stares at the pretty little tree, puzzled and conflicted. "I—you didn't have to—I—I mean thank you but…"<br><br>It's probably rude to ask someone why they got you a gift, right? She could probably count the number of words she and Penn had exchanged on her fingers and all she'd given Penn for her birthday was a quick little pen and ink doodle of a bat. Maple realizes she's been quiet an awkwardly long time and goes rather red. <br><br>"It's too much," Penn says, and turns away. "BC said it was too much, I should have listened…I just saw it and thought of you…because it's small and cute and has red leaves." Her voice is low-pitched and monotonous, her posture stiff. "It's too much though."<br><br>"I, um, I mean," Maple stammers awkwardly, twining and untwining her fingers and shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to the other. "It's really sweet and thoughtful and I love it but—it's, it's a lot yeah…"<br><br>"Sorry." Penn falls silent. She's still turned away and stiff. It looks as though that might be the last word she ever says in her life, as though she might become a monument here in this dorm room, perhaps titled "Awkwardness."<br><br>"No! No you don't have anything to apologize for," Maple says, half propelled by guilt, half by a need to fill the horrible awkward silence. "I just—"<br><br>"You brought the phone?" Penn interrupts.<br><br>"Yeah," Maple says quietly.<br><br>Penn turns back to face Maple. "Let's see it."<br><br>Maple pulls the phone from her pocket and stares down at it for roughly three seconds before the floodgates open and she bursts into tears.<br><br>Penn physically rocks back on her heels, then summons up her nerve and makes an awkward shuffling motion toward Maple, holding out her arms.<br><br>With a half-suppressed sob Maple steps forward and throws her arms around Penn, burying her face in the other girl's shoulder as a good two hours of repressed grief and guilt pour out.<br><br>Penn slowly relaxes and lets Maple cry out the tension. She holds Maple gently, as though something might break. She doesn't say "shhh" or "there there" or any of the usual meaningless noises people make when holding someone who's crying; she just stands there, arms loosely around Maple, and lets Maple cry herself out.<br><br>The sobbing and the trembling eventually fade, and several minutes later Maple pulls back, trying very hard not to make eye contact. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, her eyes red-ringed and eyeliner smeared a little as she tries to dry her eyes on her sleeve. "And thank you."<br><br>"You're welcome," Penn says, and offers a box of tissues. "Is there anything else I can do that would be helpful? Would you like some water?"<br><br>Maple takes a few tissues but says, "No, no I think I'm okay now. Just…been a rough day."<br><br>Penn puts the box of tissues back on the desk, turns the chair to face Maple and sits down. She says nothing.<br><br>Maple wavers indecisively for a moment before sitting in the beanbag chair. She sinks in further than she expected and makes a startled little "eep!" sound, then proceeds to pretend that that was not even a tiny bit embarrassing.<br><br>Penn starts to stand up, then sits down again. "I—really would like to do something about the phone," she says.<br><br>Maple turns the phone over in her hands a few times before taking a deep breath and holding it out.<br><br>Penn stands up to take it from Maple's hand, then turns the chair to face her desk and sits back down. She plugs the phone into her laptop and starts doing computer-y things.<br><br>"Um…you're the one he attacked, so whatever you want to do I won't try and stop you, but…" Maple trails off for a moment and it almost looks like she's about to cry again, but she pulls herself together and runs her fingers back through her hair. "But we don't know what happened to him. Like, at all. I mean he was always kind of a jerk but jerk to attempted murderer is a pretty big leap. If there's any way you'd consider helping me try and find out what happened, I…"<br><br>Penn sits silently for a while, staring at her computer and the phone, saying nothing. Eventually she says, "I'm going to download the contents of the phone's memory for analysis, but I won't destroy the phone yet."<br><br>"Thank you."<br><br>Penn resumes doing computer-y things for a while, making little "huh," "mm," "gnh" noises from time to time as she works.<br><br>Maple takes out a sketchbook after a few minutes have gone by and starts doodling.<br><br>About ten minutes go by before Penn says, "I can't make any sense of this. If machine code were DNA, this would be all introns, no exons. It's—I can't make any sense of it." She sounds bitterly frustrated, perhaps even angry.<br><br>Maple stands up and moves to look over Penn's shoulder, though it's not as if she's going to understand anything she sees. "Could it have, like, functioned as a phone like that?"<br><br>"Not conceivably," Penn says.<br><br>"Hmmm…I don't suppose you speak Korean?"<br><br>"No, sorry."<br><br>"I think he might have done something to it. Or the thing that was inside him did something? Right before he…before he died," she makes herself say it, "I saw him on the phone's screen. He yelled something at me. I doubt it'll be anything useful but I wrote it down phonetically. I've got a friend who's part of the Asian Students Union, she can probably find someone who could translate it for us, just in case."<br><br>"May I see?" Penn says.<br><br>Maple retrieves her little pocket notebook from her bag, flips to the appropriate page, and hands it over. "I mean, he was probably just calling me a stupid bitch or something…"<br><br>Penn glances at it and hands it back. "I'll look into it. Please ask your friend as well."<br><br>"I will. Thank you, again. Um…I have his laptop, too. Please don't wipe that either. Yet." Maple pulls it out of her messenger bag and sets it on the corner of Penn's bed.<br><br>Penn is silent for a while, then gets up, turns her chair around, and sits down again facing Maple. "I'm sorry about the tree."<br><br>"It's—it's really not anything you need to apologize for, it's just…" she trails off, biting her lower lip, and looks over to the bonsai. "…Tell you what. Why don't you hold on to it for me for now and we can…you know, hang out and stuff. Work our way up to teeny tiny tree level presents."<br><br>In a small voice, Penn says, "you would…hang out with me?"<br><br>"What? Of course I would! I didn't think you, like, liked that sort of thing."<br><br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">"um I like you"</span> Penn mumbles. She sounds like she should be blushing, but she isn't.<br><br>"Oh…" Maple is definitely blushing.<br><br>Penn clears her throat. "I've been meaning to ask you." Pause. Pause. It becomes apparent that the pause is more of a cliff and she's never going to say anything again for the rest of her life unless Maple encourages her.<br><br>"Yes?"<br><br>"It's too soon." She smiles a little, for just a second. "We should hang out first."<br><br>Maple desperately, desperately wants to push but it seems like too much too soon when Penn's already outside her comfort zone will only backfire. "Okay," she says with a little smile. "I'm going to head home for the night so I won't be at dinner, but how about you sit with me at breakfast tomorrow?"<br><br>"OK."<br><br>"Um, so…" Maple starts digging through her bag. "Between the fact that you hang out with William, who is full of secrets, and how well you took everything earlier, I guess you kinda know what's up with regard to, like, magic and other assorted weirdness?"<br><br>"Some. I know what you do in Advanced Spirituality."<br><br>"Like me specifically or the collective 'you'?"<br><br>" 'Y'all.' "<br><br>Maple giggles.<br><br>Penn smiles, a little longer this time. "Yes, I have an idea of the scope of paranormal phenomena represented at this school and in the wider world. By the way, please do not infer that I hang out with William. He employs me as a consultant. That's all."<br><br>"Oh, hmmm…I suppose you don't know anything about his 'higher power' then?"<br><br>"I am not aware that he has any religious beliefs."<br><br>"Not sure this is a religious thing, really…anyway, not important. I've probably got at least a week and a half before the curiosity starts to drive me mad." She pulls the little black book with her star symbol painted on the front and pulls one of her last sketches from the little pocket in the back and hands it over. "Do you know what these are?"<br><br>"This is one of your 'wizard portraits,' I take it?" Penn says. "It feels strange."<br><br>"Yeah, they feel kinda cold when they haven't been used up. Um, here, that one will only work once but if you want to try it you can use this one." Maple flips her sketchbook open to the first page, which has a self-portrait in an oval frame of vines and flowers in the center.<br><br>Penn sets the Trump sketch on her desk next to her laptop and accepts the sketchbook. She examines the Trump of Maple for a moment; Maple feels the connection starting to form, but Penn jerks her hand away. "Strange," she says.<br><br>"Yeah, it takes a while to get used to. Want to try again?"<br><br>Without replying, Penn touches the Trump again and concentrates. The familiar rainbow halo and overlaid image of Penn form in Maple's vision after a few seconds. <em>How very odd,</em> says Penn's mental voice.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">What Maple notices</div><div class="spoiler_body">Penn really ought to be in Advanced Spirituality, to Maple's judgment. Even if she has no training, her raw psychic talent is ahead of Ken's or Morgan's, almost on a level with Lara's.</div></div><br><br>Maple grins and waves, then tilts her head a little to the side, looking puzzled. "Huh…hey you're a decently strong psychic. Do you, like, hide that normally somehow? I've never noticed before."<br><br>Penn slowly removes her hand, and the Trump contact blinks out. "…William says I'm not a monster."<br><br>Maple tilts her head further to the side. "You were—worried about that?"<br><br>"Yes."<br><br>"Well I mean you don't seem monstrous to me. And William's apparently actually dealt with them so…um, would you like a hug?"<br><br>"Would," Penn says. After a pause, she finishes, "…you let me sit with you?"<br><br>"Sure."<br><br>"Move over a little, please?"<br><br>Maple obediently scooches over.<br><br>Penn gets up from her chair and sits down in the beanbag next to Maple, a little stiffly, then slowly, slooooooowly relaxes. Just about the time her posture appears to be comfortable, she starts crying quietly.<br><br>Maple hesitantly loops an arm around Penn's shoulder. If that seems to be helping, or at least not making things worse, she'll pull her in close.<br><br>Penn goes absolutely limp as a kitten. It's her turn to cry on Maple's shoulder now.<br><br>"You're not a monster," Maple says, calmly gathering Penn up in her arms.<br><br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">"then what am I?"</span> Penn mumbles into Maple's hair.<br><br>"I don't know," Maple says quietly. "But you're not alone. there's something…odd about me too. And William, and BC. Our whole Assembly class. I don't know what it is, but I don't think we're monsters."<br><br>"You keep secrets well," Penn says.<br><br>"What can I say, I have a weakness for pretty girls. Besides, you're part of the secret so it doesn't count."<br><br>"I'm—" Penn starts crying again, and mumbles something Maple can't make out.<br><br>Maple gently strokes her hair.<br><br>Penn quiets down, except for sniffles now and then, but doesn't say anything for quite a while. "You're nice," are the words that eventually pass her lips.<br><br>"I try," Maple says. "Besides, so are you."<br><br>"You're the only one who has ever said that to me," Penn says very quietly.<br><br>Maple squeezes her a little tighter.<br><br>"I told William…" Penn says, trailing off. A moment later she resumes, "When I was nine years old, a vampire attacked us. Me and my father. I turned into a Bug and told it to go away, and it did. I—Father said I must be a monster. William said he would be able to tell if I were, though. He sounded very certain."<br><br>There's a little pause, but it's brief enough that it might have just been a trick of Penn's mind and Maple keeps stroking her hair. "That must've been frightening for you. Also, no offense, but your dad sounds like an ungrateful jerk."<br><br>"He hits me," Penn says very quietly.<br><br>Maple definitely pauses this time, then hugs Penn tightly again. "My mom's a social worker," she says quietly. "And she knows a bit about weird magic stuff. She could help."<br><br>"No!" Penn stiffens up, pulls away from Maple. "No no no no! Don't tell anyone! No!"<br><br>"Okay! Okay…I'm sorry. But…maybe you could come stay with us over spring break or something? Assuming you won't let me kick your dad's teeth out?"<br><br>Penn relaxes, but doesn't cuddle up with Maple again yet. "If I ask he'll say no." Pause. "I won't ask. He'd rather I never came home anyway."<br><br>It takes Maple a moment to force herself to unclench her fists, then a few repetitions of her breathing exercises to calm herself down. "Okay. I'll ask my parents tonight, but I'm sure they won't mind. And I won't tell anyone what you told me without your permission. Any of it. But…I think you should consider talking to Reverend Foley. About the Bug thing. Maybe it was just some kind of weird magic? Like an illusion or something? She knows a lot about that sort of thing."<br><br>Penn nods.<br><br>Maple resumes petting Penn's hair.<br><br>Penn cuddles against Maple again. "This is really nice," she says softly. "I had no idea this would be so nice."<br><br>Maple blushes brightly, glad Penn can't see her face at the moment.<br><br>"I need to tell you something," Penn says. "If you don't think I'm a monster then this should be easy, right?"<br><br>"Yes?"<br><br>"I used to have a boy body," she says. "I changed it. That upset Father more than the Bug change. But I won't change back. I won't!"<br><br>"…yeah, sorry, I'm definitely kicking your dad in the teeth if I ever meet him."<br><br>"He's tall," Penn says. "You need to study Taekwondo. It has leaping kicks."<br><br>"I'll look into that."<br><br>Penn giggles. It is not a sound Maple has ever heard from her. When she calms down, she says, "Don't kick Father in the teeth. It'd be beneath your dignity. I hope you never meet him. He'd say nasty things if he knew you were my friend—" She stiffens up again. After a moment, she asks timidly, "Are you my friend? Is that too much?"<br><br>"Oh I think you wildly overestimate my dignity," Maple says. "But yes, I'd very much like to be your friend."<br><br>Penn wraps her arms around Maple and hugs her tightly without saying anything. It's hard to tell, because she's not sniffling or sobbing and Maple can't see her face, but she might be crying again. Eventually her hold on Maple relaxes and she lies there passively letting Maple stroke her hair. After a while, Maple hears her begin to snore. It is the tiniest, cutest little whistling snore ever~<br><br>"Ooooooh no I'm trapped," Maple whispers to herself. "Trapped forever."<br><br>Breathe. Whistle. Breathe. Whistle. Maple might be able to slither out of Penn's arms without waking her, but it is one of those things like getting out from under a sleeping cat: one risks disturbing something cute.<br><br>Maple veeeeery very slowly, veeeeery very carefully attempts to escape.<br><br>Penn instantly stops snoring. She rolls away from Maple and sits up. Her makeup is completely untouched by all the crying she's done.<br><br>"Sorry," Maple says sheepishly as she sits up. "I never escape without waking Patches up either, shouldn't have pressed my luck."<br><br>"It's OK," Penn says. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep like that." She sounds calm, un-Penn-like almost. As though she's in a trance. Or…happy? Is this what a happy Penn sounds like?<br><br>"I don't mind, I'm glad you feel comfortable with me. I just get twitchy if I'm stuck in one spot without something to occupy my overactive brain is all."<br><br>Penn stands up, seemingly without effort despite the deep, soft puffiness of the beanbag, and offers a hand to help Maple up. "I feel the same way," she says. "I have to find things to think about all the time. Math is good. I can do math all day while I'm in class."<br><br>Maple takes Penn's hand and stands. "I doodle mostly. Math and I've never really seen eye to eye."<br><br>"I like math because it's straightforward. There's nothing hidden. Everything is what it is." Penn slowly lets go of Maple's hand. "I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."<br><br>Maple's phone beeps with a text.<br><br>"Yeah! Plus, I mean, you can text me or message me on that weird chat app thingy you put on my phone. I'm guessing if you did that you've probably got my number, right?"<br><br>"I have everyone's number."<br><br>"She said ominously~"<br><br>"Every computing device on this campus that connects to the network is mine. Every computing device those devices connect to is mine. Et cetera. Maple, I have so much <em>time</em> on my hands! I read my textbooks the first two weeks of the semester, it takes me only as long to do my homework as I need to type it out and I type fast…I don't need much sleep. I have nothing to do but hack and prove theorems and dream. It <em>hurts,</em> I'm so bored all the time." She swallows. "I get along with William because he's the same way."<br><br>Maple stops in front of the door, lingering awkwardly. "Having a hobby that doesn't get repetitive helps. If you ever want to learn to draw or something let me know."<br><br>Penn quirks a little smile. "Maybe I should transfer into Advanced Spirituality. I have my math independent study in 7th Arrangement but I finished my thesis weeks ago. Could you ask Rev. Foley whether she'd accept a mid-semester add?"<br><br>"Sure." Maple smiles a little as well.<br><br>"See you later."<br><br>"Bye~"<br><br>Maple can feel Penn's eyes on her even after the door closes, as if Penn could somehow see through the wall. She can't, though. Probably can't. Not with all the wards. Right?
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				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rook Seidhr</strong> on <strong>11-04-2017, 03:30:46</strong>
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				<strong>Characters:</strong> BC; Maple's immediate family (Flannery, Elsinore and Willow MacAlistair)<br><strong>Who:</strong> Maple<br><strong>Where:</strong> From West Tower to Woodside, Queens, NYC<br><strong>When:</strong> start of 6th Arrangement (6:30 PM) to start of study hall (8:30 PM)<br><br>Maple pulls her phone out as she heads down the hallway. The text from BC says, <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Dude what is going on? I had the weirdest text from Morgan and then I heard an ambulance came for Park Min-joon because he OD'd on antidepressants. Is there, like, anything to it?"</span> (BC is one of the few people in existence who bothers to type out a meaningless "like" in the middle of a texted sentence.)<br><br>Maple texts back, <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Probably shouldn't text, let me know when you're good to space out for a few minutes and I'll tell you everything that happened."</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"OK"</span> Moments later: <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font"> "Not, like, OK to space out now. OK I will tell you. OK?"</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Gotcha"</span> Maple returns to her dorm room. Kennedy isn't there, since class is starting; Maple has the room to herself.<br><br>Maple shoves a change of clothes into a spare bag, writes Kennedy a brief note saying she's headed home for the night and she has a pass so there shouldn't be any trouble, then opens up her sketchbook and disappears.<br><br>Maple's younger sister Willow is lying prone on the upper bunk of the bunkbed she shares with Maple, propped on her elbows, reading a magazine and listening to something on her earbuds. The lower bunk is covered with unfolded laundry. She is facing the wrong way and does not notice Maple's arrival.<br><br>Maple creeps quietly over to the end of the bed, staying hidden below the bedframe—not difficult, given her short stature. She waits for a few moments so she's sure she hasn't been spotted, then suddenly pulls herself up into view, hissing <em>"Trespasser!"</em><br><br>The reaction is everything Maple could have hoped for. Willow practically levitates, banging her head on the ceiling, and flops sideways with a high-pitched yelp. Her phone slides off the bed, pulling loose one of her earbuds and dangling by the cord of the other one. She goes pale, then red in the face, and yanks out her other earbud. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Maple, you scared me half to death!"<br><br>Maple dissolves into a fit of giggles, doubling over so she drops out of view again, but pulls herself back together relatively quickly. "Sorry," she says, climbing up to the second step of the bunkbeds' ladder so she's high enough to lean on her mattress. "That was perfect though, I couldn't help myself. Is your head okay?"<br><br>"Yeah. Are you? You don't usually trip home in the middle of the week."<br><br>"Had a long day, needed a change of scenery," Maple says.<br><br>With either unusual perceptiveness of Maple's mood, or an utter lack of perceptiveness that there's anything untrue about what Maple said, Willow nods, scoops up her phone and turns sideways to hop off the middle of Maple's bunk without using the ladder. Though nearly three and a half years younger than Maple, she's already taller; between that and her blonde hair in a family of short redheads, one might think her adopted, but in fact she's just some sort of genetic anomaly. Their mother Elsinore blames the fact that Willow was conceived in New York rather than in Michigan like her older sisters.<br><br>"Dinner's soon," she says. "You're in luck, it's veggie jambalaya." She jams her earbuds back in and commences folding laundry.<br><br>Maple dismounts the ladder and circles around to give Willow a tight hug from behind, then heads out to find her parents.<br><br>Her father Flannery is in the kitchen, cooking dinner, while her mother is going through mail at the dining table. Elsinore glances up and smiles when she sees Maple come through the door. "Maple! Flann, look!"<br><br>"I guess you smelled my cooking all the way from Manhattan," Flannery says gravely, then smiles as well.<br><br>"Yup, the wispy scent trail literally lifted me off my feet and carried me all the way here, like in those old cartoons~"<br><br>"Will you be staying overnight?" Elsinore asks.<br><br>"Yeah, if that's okay. I got a pass."<br><br>"Of course it's OK, honey." Elsinore sets aside her work and stands up to wrap Maple in a vigorous hug. That done, she holds Maple at arm's length by her shoulders. "Go wash your face, honey, you look a fright." She doesn't ask why Maple's makeup shows the aftermath of heavy tears; older and wiser than Maple, she's learned to keep her curiosity leashed for hours at a time.<br><br>Maple nods and heads off to the bathroom, where she cleans up in the familiarly tacky shell-shaped pink sink, a remnant of the last renovation the bathroom underwent, back in the '70s or so. Her face is a little red by the time she's done washing up but she turns sharply and heads back to the kitchen before she has time to think too much about how the apartment feels a tiny bit less like home every time she spends half the year at school. "Hey, um…" she says, standing in the threshold to the kitchen. "I know this is a little last minute, but could a friend of mine stay with us over Spring Break maybe?"<br><br>Elsinore and Flannery exchange a glance of marital telepathy, a power beyond Rev. Foley's ability to teach or even explain. "Is this a boy or a girl friend," Elsinore asks, "and are they a friend friend or a <em>friend</em> friend?"<br><br>"Girl, and a regular no-repetitive-emphasis friend."<br><br>"Sure, then, your friend can stay with us," Flannery says, and Elsinore nods.<br><br>"Thank you~!" Maple says, bounding over to hug each of them in turn. "Do you need help with dinner or anything?"<br><br>"Set the table, if you would?" Flannery asks.<br><br>"Dear, I'm working on the table," Elsinore says.<br><br>"Wait impatiently for your mother to finish, then set the table, if you would?" Flannery says.<br><br>Elsinore sighs and begins to stack the mail she's sorting back together in clusters. Maple sets the table, working around her mother until she's gotten her paperwork taken care of.<br><br>Once the table is set and the various items of mail have been stashed in the master bedroom temporarily, shredded, or consigned to the recycling bin, Elsinore looks around to make sure Willow hasn't emerged from the bedroom. "Honey, is there anything you want to talk about?" she quietly asks Maple.<br><br>Maple sighs, slips into one of the chairs, and slumps against the table. "Something…weird happened to a guy at school. Magic weird. And I was trying to help and things seemed to be going okay but then some other students got involved and…"<br><br>Elsinore reaches over and strokes her daughter's hair. She doesn't say anything, figuring Maple will finish her sentence when she's ready.<br><br>"And everything went bad. Really really bad. The guy I was trying to help is in a coma now bad," she continues. Her voice is sad but largely drained of energy after all the crying she did in Penn's dorm room. "And I'm mad at myself for involving them and I'm mad at my classmates but I know they didn't mean for it to happen and they obviously feel awful too so then I feel bad for being mad at them <em>and it's my birthday</em> and everything is awful." Maple sits up when something thuds gently against her ankle, then reaches down to scoop up Patches.<br><br>"Oh, honey," Elsinore says. "Oh, Maple, darling, that's awful."<br><br>The elderly black-and-white domestic shorthair known as Patches arranges himself on Maple's lap, purring and treading. In Patches' worldview, every human in the MacAlistair household has a role to play: Flannery is Feeder Person, Elsinore is Litter Box and Backup Feeder Person, and Maple and Magnolia (when they are home) are Petters-in-Chief. Willow is an acceptable second-tier petter, at best. Familiarity breeds contempt.<br><br>Maple expertly scritches Patches around the ears and under the chin, re-cementing her place as High Queen of Really Good Scritches, at least until Maggie comes home to contest the title. "Also I'm tired? It's been like a billion years since I've been <em>really</em> tired, I forgot how much it sucks."<br><br>Patches luxuriates in Maple's scritching. Elsinore says, "Honey, I know it's a dumb thing to say, but if there's anything I can do, you know I will."<br><br>"Both of us," adds Flannery as he places a couple of trivets on the table.<br><br>"I know. Thanks for saying though," Maple says with a little smile.<br><br>Flannery puts a big pot on one of the trivets. "Fetch your sister, please?" he says.<br><br>Maple nods, hefts Patches onto her shoulder, and goes to fetch Willow. Patches is not usually pleased to be thus hoisted, but today he allows it with good grace, as if he realizes that Maple needs his comfort right now. He tries to find a comfortable way to be carried. Willow has finished folding and storing laundry and is on her own bunk in the same posture in which Maple found her; she has to be waved at several times before she takes her earbuds out and understands that she's being called to dinner.<br><br>At the table, Flannery says Grace, and the food is served. Vegetarian jambalaya, as promised, served over brown rice. Vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce to celebrate Maple's birthday—no cake, since she wasn't expected home, but Willow sticks a single birthday candle into Maple's scoop of ice cream. Elsinore waves the ice cream scoop at her threateningly to deter her from lighting it and getting wax all over Maple's dessert. Maple eats and laughs at Flannery's terrible dad-jokes and teases Willow, all in all feeling much less awful when everything is said and done.<br><br>It's about 7:30 and dinner's being cleared away when Maple gets a text from William asking her to coordinate getting the Nine (though he doesn't use that capitalized word) to Rev. Foley's office at 8:30 for an important meeting. Moments later, she gets a text from BC saying <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"OK now dude. That is to say, available to space out."</span><br><br>Maple excuses herself and heads to her old bedroom, closing the door behind her, and climbs up into the top bunk after retrieving her sketchbook. "Hey," she says after BC and the familiar rainbow aura swim into view. "Sorry for making you wait, but this sorta seemed like the kind of thing that shouldn't be discussed on, um, potentially insecure lines."<br><br>"So there's, like, shenanigans?" BC answers. Judging by the dim lighting and the tree-trunk behind him, he's in a secluded corner of the rooftop garden.<br><br>Maple spends 15 minutes or so describing the sequence of events in detail and answering BC's questions. When she's done, he shakes his head. "Dude, you, like, harsh yourself out sometimes, and this is one of those times. He was a crazy freakazoid possessed by monsters or something, he tried to do who-knows-what to Penn, you did a little thing you had no reason to think would hurt him. It was a perfect storm, dude. Like, meditate and ground and stuff. OK?"<br><br>Maple sighs, shoulders slumping a little. "I know, I know… It's still fucked up though. I'll feel better if I manage to make, like, <em>any</em> progress on figuring out what happened to him."<br><br>"Dude," BC agrees.<br><br>"Yeah…oh, hey while I have you here, William wants everyone in Assembly to meet him in Foley's office at 8:30. Didn't say why."<br><br>"William? Dude."<br><br>"Yeah, he's…yeah."<br><br>&nbsp;"I'll totally be there just to find out what the fuck."<br><br>Maple grins crookedly. "It'd be nice to know what the fuck, huh~?"<br><br>"Yeah. See you at dinner?"<br><br>"Oh, I actually just ate. I kinda skipped all my afternoon classes and got a pass to go home for the night from the Headmaster."<br><br>"Dude, say hi to the sapling for me. And the 'rents too."<br><br>"Will do~"<br><br>And then assuming that's the end of that conversation, Maple sends a group text to everyone else in Assembly whose number she has, and tries to get ahold of Penn through her shady chat app.<br><br>Maple has all the other students' numbers, naturally; this isn't the first time she's been appointed coordinator of a group project. Usually it's something like a birthday card and present for Rev. Foley, though. Penn responds to Maple's chat request and replies to her message with <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Yes, I will be there."</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Oh hey good news! Got the seal of approval from the parental units re: you staying here over spring break."</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Lovely. Should I pack anything special?"</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Not that I can think of. We just live over in Queens."</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"OK. I will see you in Rev. Foley's office then."</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Bye!"</span><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Bye."</span><br><br>Maple hops down from the bed and heads to the living room, where her parents are sitting on the couch—or rather, Elsinore is sitting on the couch; Flannery is lying down with his head in her lap. Both are watching TV. "Hey," Maple says, "I have to head back to school for a little bit. Class meeting thingy. Can I take Emperor Grumplefluff~?"<br><br>Flannery and Elsinore look at each other. Elsinore shrugs. "I suppose. Be careful, honey."<br><br>And Maple scurries off to fetch a cat, teleport into Foley's office/classroom near the chapel and set up for the meeting (which mostly just consists of moving chairs around). Patches allows her to carry him through the Trump, but his hair bristles, and he hops down as soon as there's somewhere convenient for him to hop.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rook Seidhr</strong> on <strong>11-04-2017, 08:29:48</strong>
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				<strong>Character:</strong> Mrs. Pauline Brett, Deans' Office receptionist/school secretary<br><strong>Who:</strong> Maple<br><strong>Where:</strong> the Deans' Office reception area<br><strong>When:</strong> sometime early sophomore year (2015)<br><hr>Having noticed (with the artistic eye) that there is something special about her Assembly-mates, Maple has been pestering Mrs. Brett for information about who decided that they should all be in the same Assembly. Mrs. Brett has adamantly denied knowing anything, even when faced with <em>Maximum Puppydog Eyes Cuteattack.</em><br><br>"Maple. Would you give me a million dollars for the information?"<br><br>"I think it probably says in your files there somewhere that I'm on like twice that many scholarships~"<br><br>"I take it that's a no?"<br><br>"Let's call it a 'not feasible at this time.' "<br><br>"Good, because I really would hate to have to turn down a million-dollar bribe. Run along, Maple. Don't you have important homework or flirting or something?"<br><br>"Okay but you have to endure ten more seconds of my pouting first."<br><br>Mrs. Brett checks her watch. "Go."<br><br>"Oh you take the fun out of everything~"<br><br>"It's my job."<br><br>"I'm not certain it is but I don't know enough about what secretaries at big fancy schools do to actually question that."<br><br>"Shoo." Mrs. Brett goes back to her computer.<br><br>Maple sticks her tongue out but does indeed shoo~
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [Welcome to Holy Question Mark] IC—Maple's Solo Scenes</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Meliai</strong> on <strong>15-04-2017, 09:53:53</strong>
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				<strong>Maple's Sketchbook, December 5, 2014</strong> (freshman year)<br><br><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fe/MapleJournal02_BC.png)<br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">(click for full size)</span></div><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Transcription of Maple's terrible handwriting</div><div class="spoiler_body">BC isn't speaking to me because he's an over sensitive baby. Turns out he really does look like some kind of bipedal cereal mascot-esque tiger thing when he astrally projects and that's why my wizard portraits kept breaking.<br><br>But also turns out he thought "bearcat" just meant a bear-sized cat. When I told him what binturongs are he thought I was making fun of him (I wasn't!) and got mad.<br><br>Binturongs are way cooler than tigers anyway<br><br>( Several hours later, I have calmed down and feel bad :c )<br></div></div><br><br>She painted him a cool picture of a tiger later to patch things up.<br><br>Not sure if it's obvious in the photo or not, but the drawing of the naked lady astrally projecting isn't mine, it's a weird but of vintage art from a metaphysical text. I DID draw the adorable stoner bearcat though~
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