assistedbyreason

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: You know you don’t always get what you’re looking for, right?

Ichabod: like if I do this it might not go the way you’re expecting it to

Ichabod: right uh

Ichabod: what did you need help with?

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: right uh

Ichabod: what did you need help with?

Ichabod: uh… okay?

Ichabod: what do you mean you have a client?

Ichabod: You realize I’m an author, right?

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod: uh… okay?

Ichabod: what do you mean you have a client?

Ichabod: You realize I’m an author, right?

A Professional Text || Peek-A-Boo

Boo: Hey, this is a professional text Boo: If you don't want to do any medium work, no big deal, just let me know Boo: Otherwise I have a client

[assistedbyreason]

Y'know... he wasn't sure why Mrs. Albon disliked alcohol so much. It wasn't like he ever stopped to question it. Which, probably, was pretty shitty of him as a medium. He was supposed to help people pass through or whatever. But it had never once occurred to him to ask Mrs. Albon why she kept him wasting his money by having to replace his bottles any time she got in a mood.

So he shrugged at her question and took a sip of his own whiskey.

"Honestly? I never thought to ask. But she's never acted like this before. Might have to go back once things calm down and figure out what the hell is going on. Maybe burn some sage or palo santo. Clear out the room for a little bit at least."

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[assistedbyreason]

Her reaction was... lackluster. Ichabod was used to people either freaking out and calling him a demon or immediately demanding he talk to someone they lost. Very rarely were people just so blase about his magical status. He appreciated it. More than he would voice now.

He shrugged at her question, drumming his fingers against his leg almost anxiously. "Her husband. At first. M'surprised yous didn't hear her moanin' and wailin'." He huffed before sighing. "I tried t'distract her with alcohol. She fuckin' hates it. Throws a tantrum anytime I bring some home. Sent her off the deep end tonight."

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[assistedbyreason]

For a brief moment, Ichabod felt like a little boy getting chided for not being prepared. Not that Belle was speaking to him in any sort of way. Just listing off the things that Swynlake had that he wasn't fully aware of. There were so many things and he didn't even know where to begin. He was quickly coming to love Swynlake and all its charm. Anything he did to raise money, he wanted to give back to the town. But it also let him know where he could help outside of this.

"Those are all... Just wow. I didn't realize there was so much going on in this town. I'd love to help all of them, really."

His attention was stolen then by the whole medium declaration. Hades was one. The two boys here were. Was Belle? Should Ichabod reveal his own status? He didn't have the chance to as one of the ghosts he'd encountered the last time he was here appeared and huffed. "So is he."

Ichabod, to his credit, only paled a little bit before giving a shaky little laugh. "Uh yeah. I mean. That'd be a good charity to split the funds with. M'sure I can find a charity or somethin'."

I Know What We're Going to Do Today || Queen of the Damned

[assistedbyreason]

Well shit. That certainly made his late night ventures a bit more dangerous and concerning. It also made the warning from the glowing eyes that much more ominous. Maybe he should stay clear of the forest. Or at least pay more attention to where the paths were taking him. So far they hadn't steered him into any harm. Maybe the forest was looking out for him or for itself.

Whatever the case, Ichabod made a mental note to be a little bit more wary.

"Shit. Seriously?" He shook his head with a low whistle. "Kinda glad I ain't gone that far into it." He'd most likely end up looking into that. Just to get a better idea of what happened and if there were any lingering issues there. Curiosity and all.

"Thanks, though. For the heads up. I ain't seen anything like that on the pamphlets."

assistedbyreason​:

thedipster​:

Ichabod also felt a certain pull to the forest. Though he wasn’t sure why at all. There was just something there that called to him in the late hours of the night. Even as the paths twisted and turned and took him down paths he wasn’t sure of. He explored when he didn’t feel like fighting the urge with visits to The Court and to see Wendy.

“The Great Prince…” He trailed off, unsure what to make of that. He wasn’t sure what that meant. He’d never run into anyone else in the forest before other than the formless glowing lights that had warned him.

“I’ve heard of Will-O-Wisps. The little old ladies that used t’ watch me when I was a kid would tell stories about them. Try t'scare us from going into the woods on the outskirts of town. Never once ran into them though. Kinda disappointing back then. Now I think m'okay with it. Woulda been scary as hell back then.”

-

“Yeah, I can’t exactly advise running into a deep dark forest as a young kid,” laughed Dipper.

Which, of course, went beyond just good advice — it was personal. A lotta things would be different in his life if Grunkle Stan hadn’t been so cavalier about what he and Mabel got up to that summer.

But, then again, he wouldn’t be in Swynlake if that were the case. 

“But, uh, full disclaimer, we’ve got some demon activity in these woods,” he added, since that felt like the responsible and moral thing to do. “Just by the cave though! So if you stay clear of that, you should be good. It’s blocked off now anyway.”

[assistedbyreason]

In their other brief conversations, Zero had been the one asking the questions, prying for information without really prying for it. Now, though, Ichabod felt that burning curiosity. He wanted to know more about this interesting being next to him. Wanted to pry into those very vague answers he was giving in response.

"How come?" He blurted the question without really thinking about it. Did he not think his work was good enough? Zero didn't seem like the type to be worried about what others thought. At least that was the vibe that he gave off. Everything seemed to be subjective with him. Everyone had their own opinion and if it didn't jive with him then that was fine.

But then he was being handed the sketchbook and the curiosity for that overtook anything else he was curious about. Carefully he flipped through the pages, taking in the dark splotches and harsh lines. There was something there in those images that struck something in him.

The pictures felt familiar. The darkness in them speaking to him in a way that nothing had really spoken to him before. It reminded him of his books. There was a truth in his books that some people didn't get but for the ones that did understand it and get it... it was like being slapped in the face.

"These are... really good," he commented as he slowly turned another page. The creature that stared back at him was monstrous, almost terrifying. "Is this-- Is this a real creature? Or something from your imagination?"

"Maybe, it's a little harder than that for me though." Zero admitted, which was where his thoughts had been lately, tipping back and forth with a disjointed jumble that hadn't really been there for years, and never for that reason. Art had never felt like anything but his own, something that allowed him to sort out his thoughts, to feel just a little more than he might on most days, and that had always been fine. But that seemed a bit childish lately as he realized it wasn't just him, wasn't just something he viewed as valid; other people paid attention.

One of his dads was, by most accounts, a well known musician, what came natural to him he shared and it made him happier. Zero had always assumed what came naturally to a faerie was their Talent; but his ability to cause destruction didn't bring him the same peace as art did. It was still perplexing, actually.

At the question though, he nodded, "I did, very interesting, actually." And he left it at that because it was obvious and Ichabod wasn't quick to jump at the chance to coax praise for his work. That said something about a person and marked the difference between someone who created for gain and someone who created because they needed to root what was inside them somewhere the world could share it, and hold some of the burden as well.

Ichabod didn't write pretty stories; he wrote ones that needed to be told, and sometimes that just wasn't as pretty. But, talent was talent; Zero could appreciate that, and just wonder what went on inside his head.

Curiosity was universal, but it could be patient too.

"I always get the feeling that whatever goes on in a person's head is where the actual story is." He mused, with writing, art, any sort of creative expression; some people had a different view of the world.

And, case in point, he retrieved his bag and the old sketchbook from within it; Zero didn't believe art made mistakes really, flaws were part of the design, so he wasn't uncomfortable with people seeing his work, even the rough bits. So he didn't pick or choose, simply held it out to Ichabod; pages filled with lines, ink and ash, bold and intricate and, true, just a bit dark at their core with images of nature lapsed into decay and time's hand on everything down to bone.

But Zero saw nothing terrible in thing like that. No more than he did the creatures he had known in deep corners of ancient forests inked on the starchy pages; too often people called such things frightening, strange, but he had known them only as part of the world, and in most cases friends to be missed.

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod wanted to question her on that. She'd seen worse. What did that mean? And again, who exactly was his neighbor? But he didn't get the chance as she moved to question him directly.

He took a long sip of his drink, whiskey thank God, before sighing gently. He figured someone would figure it out eventually. Not that he actually hid it too much. Just like his sexuality, he just didn't flaunt it all over the place. Didn't feel the need to.

".... Yeah, right on the money, really," he nodded, resting his glass on his knee. "Been a minute since I've had one as feisty as Mrs. Albon though. She's.. temperamental."

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod was... exhausted. While his little friend hadn't been around in a while and he had certainly made up for it the night prior. Probably because he had been alone; he'd skipped out on visiting the Court and Wendy had been working. It was a rare thing, really, and Ichabod was reminded again why he tried to find things to do in those hours.

But it was a new day and he had a routine to get back to. Or at least attempt to get back to.

One that started with his morning coffee from Hatter's. He'd come to enjoy the spot and how quiet it was in the morning. He could easily find a table in a corner to drink his coffee and sort of wake up with the rest of the town in peace.

Which is exactly what he did. Finishing the final dregs of his coffee, he gave a small wave to the barista before sticking a few bills in the tip jar and heading out the door. His plan was to head through the park for a quick walk through one of the trails before meeting up with Wendy for lunch but then someone was calling him and he smiled as he looked over at the man.

"Oh. Shit... yeah, I can do that. D'yous got a pen?"

I'm your biggest fan || Fixabod

[assistedbyreason]

Well, Ichabod was really glad that Belle thought it was a good idea. He hated having to sell ideas to people. He felt he often rambled on and sometimes (most times) lost sight of the whole point of whatever he was trying to sell. It was hard enough having to sell his latest ideas to his publishers.

The mention of the co-owner made him nod. "Hades... right?" He liked the fellow well enough, though he hadn't seen him the few times he'd stopped in. Which was fine. He had no idea how he managed running Chapter Three and handling his duties as Mayor.

"I don't really have anything in mind. Something for the town. Does Swynlake have charities for anything?" He asked this before shaking his head. "M'sorry, I know that probably sounds really... ignorant of me. Not havin' any idea before comin' to yous. I can say, for sure, I'd love for the money t'go to somethin' that the town really needs. Do an even split for that and then a charity that helps Magicks that get a bad rap?"

I Know What We're Going to Do Today || Queen of the Damned

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod also felt a certain pull to the forest. Though he wasn't sure why at all. There was just something there that called to him in the late hours of the night. Even as the paths twisted and turned and took him down paths he wasn't sure of. He explored when he didn't feel like fighting the urge with visits to The Court and to see Wendy.

"The Great Prince..." He trailed off, unsure what to make of that. He wasn't sure what that meant. He'd never run into anyone else in the forest before other than the formless glowing lights that had warned him.

"I've heard of Will-O-Wisps. The little old ladies that used t' watch me when I was a kid would tell stories about them. Try t'scare us from going into the woods on the outskirts of town. Never once ran into them though. Kinda disappointing back then. Now I think m'okay with it. Woulda been scary as hell back then."

assistedbyreason​:

To his credit, Ichabod only chuckled a very little bit. He’d heard from a few people already that Swynlake was a good town. Not too many said that it was anything less. Of course, they had mentioned a few of the recurring disasters but Ichabod felt he could probably handle those. How bad could they possibly be?

“Ah, yeah, I’ve ventured into the forest a bit. It’s… actually really nice. Calming sort of. M'not much of a hiker but the paths I’ve taken haven’t been too challenging.” He sat down another object he’d been look at before turning his attention back to Dipper. “It’s supposed to be some sorta magical place, ain’t? Twisty and turny for people who don’t have good intentions or somethin’?”

–

For someone who had so many bad memories associated with forests ��� associated with this forest in particular, too — Dipper kept finding himself coming back to it. 

There was something about the deep dark woods that he felt comfortable with. He liked hiking. He liked being swallowed up by ancient trees, being so old that they remembered the time of knights, the times before even that. 

“That’s the story, at least,” said Dipper. “Though there’s definitely some truth to it. The Great Prince controls the paths, though I’m not sure how much of people’s intentions he can actually know. But there’s other things in the forest that might…” His voice trailed off a little here. “Like the Will-O-Wisps — apparently they lead you off the path, but to what your heart truly desires. They’re really rare, though.”

[assistedbyreason]

Ichabod gave a small nod at that, noting the book that he was reading but finding himself unfamiliar with it. "Looks interesting, what's it about?" he hummed, flipping through a few pages of the comic. "Took them long enough to even think to put these two together. I dunno why they ever thought it was a good idea to glorify a relationship as toxic as Harley and Joker. I mean, I'm a fan of the Joker but not the whole relationship thing."

Nick waved off the offer, although he appreciated it. If Ichabod had been here an hour earlier, that would be a different story of course. He'd have happily put someone else to work to get out of some himself. But by now, it was all done so he could afford to look magnanimous.

"We're all good here, just enjoying the spoils so far," he held up the book he was reading himself.

Nodding to the volume in Ichabod's hands, he said, "That's a good one. It' about time too."

[assistedbyreason]

"Jun.... He's the one that does Wordle too, right?" See? He was trying to get to know people. Even if a lot of it was through twitter where things were more impersonal but it was fine! He'd met Dolores that way and now here they were talking in Chapter Three in person. "And Al owns the Comic Barn, right? I've been told by a few people that I should talk with him. He sounds like a good guy."

At the mention of how many languages she knew, Ichabod's eyebrows rose to incredible heights. That was more than impressive, actually. He didn't know anyone that knew that many languages. "Well I'd say you're showing off if I didn't know you," he laughed. "But honestly. That's impressive. What languages do you know? Which one could you possibly be learning?"

"You should meet Ting-Ting and Jun. They are both my Stardew Valley buddies. And I know Al McWiggin plays as well. He's Jun's friend." And Lo went out with him once but it hadn't sparked in the same way she wanted it to.

But that didn't mean she wasn't still going to count him as a friend.

"Is this where I admit I'm fluent in 6 and I'm currently learning a new one?"

[assistedbyreason]

"Yous know, all the media ever says about England is that it's dismal and gray and rainy but I feel like there's been a ton more sunny days than anything else." Which had surprised him. He was expecting some gloomy Victorian movie backdrop when he'd first come to Swynlake.

He was glad it wasn't.

"Thanks again. For humorin' me and all by the way. Dunno if I said that before." He spoke easily as he started off down one of the trails he was familiar with. "Cuz yous right. We coulda easily gone and gotten some tea or somethin' from Hatters. S'just somethin' about bein' out here that's calmin' and like opens up the mind or whatever."

@assistedbyreason

Ichabod laughs and Winston grins back at him. He knew that he was right, that Ichabod was not probably a big runner, particularly as a runner, but Win wasn't going to be pushing him to an uncomfortable pace, either. Keeping pace wasn't hard once you had practice at it. And if Ichabod needed an excuse to get out of the house and/or away from whatever it was he was doing then, well, that was alright by Winston, too.

Nodding approvingly, Winston made sure to grab his in hand, stowing the key to his flat in a little pocket on his bicep for safekeeping. No, he did not want to lose his house keys on a run. Yes, he had done it before.

A snort escapes at the flower comment, but he nods again at that, too.

"Sure we can. An' we can walk an' run, too. Don't have to speed through the trail. 'S a nice day out, so the weather should hold."

[assistedbyreason]

"Perfect."

Ichabod enjoyed Pixies, though as of recently his tastes had been more towards the liking of The Court (though that was mostly because of Wendy). But after a ghostly encounter like the one he'd just had something quiet was much more preferred.

Mary's room was... more than minimalist. It seemed barren. No personality whatsoever, really. It made Ichabod wonder about his neighbor. What kind of person was she really? Why did he always seem to run into her at night?

"M'sorry yous had t'witness whatever it was yous saw from all that. My, uh, ghostly roommate is having a time it seems."

Everybody's So Creative! || Peek-A-Boo

[assistedbyreason]

There really was no arguing with Zero's logic because it was just that... logical. It might be a simplistic take on a subject but, again, it made sense and didn't leave a bunch of room for argument. Which was fine with Ichabod. He was more soft spoken than most, typically going with the flow unless the flow was just absolutely ridiculous.

He smiled at the mention of the graphic novels he'd told Zero about. Just the way he'd spoken about art and his style had made Ichabod feel like he would like them and he was glad that he had. "I mean--- You could, too. If your artwork is as good as I'm thinking it is," he offered easily; as if it were the easiest thing to do in the world. Which, with some phone calls on Ichabod's part, could be a lot easier than normal.

But he stopped momentarily at the mention of Chapter Three. He wasn't hiding in Swynlake. Wasn't afraid of people figuring out he was an author. He didn't hide it either. Did he mention that he was one in their conversation? He couldn't recall. But Zero's tone wasn't accusatory so it was fine. Probably nothing.

"Yeah? S'a good shoppe. I've spent a good chunk of time there since I moved here," he nodded, picking at a few blades of grass. "Find anything interesting?"

.

"Doesn't do much good to worry about it; it tends to do what it wants anyway regardless." He pointed out; started and ended when it pleased without much concern for the people who complained about having too much or too little of it. "Everyone has a different clock anyway." Maybe not in the scheme of how many hours were in the day, more how many were in a life; but knowing that it was a set amount regardless made Zero much less inclined to rush his own.

When Ichabod sat down Zero turned his attention to him, after a side glance at Edgar. "Well, he just passed out so it couldn't have been that long." He chuckled, leaving the snoring dog in peace in favor of speaking with the other man. "I'm not in a hurry generally, I don't mind."

Truth be told, if it had been very long? He would have just taken a nap; that was usually what he did in daylight hours when he had nothing else to occupy him.

"I got curious about those books, haven't read through the ones I bought yet, but you're right; the artwork is great." He mentioned, since that had been the initial reason they had started talking. "Makes me a little envious of people who get to build their lives around creating like that," it was humored, but also true; lately he had started to wish that didn't feel like such an impossibility.

"I also went by Chapter Three," he added, not so much an afterthought as just a cautious approach because Ichabod didn't lead with the fact that he was a famous writer in their previous conversation, so maybe he was just there in town looking for a life outside of that.