jacelindon

[jacelindon]

JACE LINDON @ The Conclave

A flare of internal fire at his fingertips provides a calming boon. The molten lava underneath his skin fades as he flexes and finishes slipping the watch on his wrist. Whatever happens, he has the power.

One of the titular FENG-LINDON COVEN, Jace knows that many eyes are on him as one of the wielders of fire. He's no stranger to this game, and knows how to play it well. Time will only tell if he grows exhausted of it.

[jacelindon]

Jace turns and asks one of the nurses to grab some from their supply with an apologetic look, knowing that it's frustrating for them, too - but leaving Jasper alone sounds like the worst decision anyone could make. There's a high chance he'll blink and somehow Jasper will have created a massive incident out of paper towels and hand sanitizer.

And.. just like clockwork, that theory is proven correct when Jasper reaches out and shitblasts him with glitter with a simple touch. "You know I'm going to be trying to get that out for ages now." Might as well just retire them. He sighs, though, and nods. "Don't worry - it's between you and me."

The nurse comes back with the solvent and Jace gives her a quick thanks before turning back to Jasper to try and dissolve the hot glue. It doesn't take much and he's wiping it (and the glitter off) as gently as possible, with softer hands than he should maybe have with the way they're able to crack apart and burn if he just concentrates.

"My night?" Jace blows out a breath. "Exhausting, but every night is it's own brand of tiring. I'm just thankful it hasn't been worse." ..And he shouldn't have said that. Fuck.

Jasper lifts his sparkling disaster for inspection, letting it hover like a gaudy snow-globe in Jace’s outstretched hand. “Meet-cutes? Doctor, this is pure slapstick. Didn’t even get a slow-motion soundtrack.” He wiggles—resin cracks faintly—then shrugs. “I’m hot-gluing pride charms for Happy Tails, the gun jams, pressure builds, kaboom. Now I’m part disco ball, part cautionary tale.”

He tips his head, studying Jace’s tired eyes. “Solvent me up, please—preferably the kind that doesn’t strip fingerprints. I still need those for matchmaking paperwork.” A grin tugs at his mouth. “FYI, the glitter’s cosmetic grade. If it gets everywhere, consider it free décor.” There’s already some on Jace’s scrubs; Jasper reaches out to brush it off and somehow gets more on the other sleeve.

Jace gives the blister an appraising look, and Jasper feels the familiar knit of skin beneath the sparkles. He clears his throat. “Yeah, I heal quick. Lucky quirk.” Nice, Jas—great way to explain that. “Could we keep that off the chart? Last thing I need is the billing department trying to upcharge me for being weird.”

Jasper clocks the way Jace cradles his glitter-crusted hand—and the metaphor detonates. Rieux, he thinks, that bleak hero from Camus he kept pretending he'd only skimmed. Swap plague rats for disco-ball burns and voilà: same half-moon bruises under the eyes, same stoic no one dies of dumb today aura. Jace breathes out, gauze ready, and Jasper feels equal parts guilty germ and beloved calamity. Rieux 2.0 deserves hazard pay for wrangling Port Leiry’s walking outbreak, yet here he is—steady as bedrock, resigned as a raincloud, hands impossibly gentle. Jasper vows (with the sincerity of a roller-derby daredevil) to dial down the chaos… at least until the next glue-gun rebellion.

Settling onto the plastic chair beside the supply cart, he flexes his good hand as if conducting an invisible orchestra. “So how’s your night been other than this meet-cute?”

[jacelindon]

He laughs, and shakes his head - knowing that she absolutely would have waited for him, no matter what he'd said. Jace allows the moment to take him away from the exhaustion of the day, to enjoying the time he has with his cousin -- it's been so long, it feels like the joy is going to burst right through him in a shower of sparks.

"I had lunch and a protein bar a few hours ago for a pick me up." He didn't have time for much else, but he couldn't deny that he was grateful she was here, not for the food, not for the rest - but just to see her. It was like all the aches in his feet and crackling in his eyes were dissipating just standing here with her.

"It's good to see you, too." And despite himself, he lets out a long relieved sigh as he sinks into the passenger seat, grateful he's not on a bus ride heading back to his new place - there were still boxes set up and barely even any furniture. At a red light, he makes sure to sign when she looks over - "What kinda food we gettin'?"

She spots him as soon as she swings her car door closed. She takes off running towards her younger cousin, some things in life were worth running for and Jace Lindon was one of them.

Before she knows it, he’s swinging her through the air. She had missed Jace so much these past couple years but neither of their situations had been conducive to family time. As soon as she was back on the ground she signed to him “I just got here, but you know I would’ve waited.”

She looked Jace over, “You look exhausted. You know you need to take care of yourself so you can go on to take care of all these other people. Have you been eating? Thank goodness I’m here.” She smiled up at him, he knew she was being half sarcastic, but she was glad she was there. Glad they could be back together.

“Don’t worry dinner is on me.” Then she hugged his side as she led him to her car. “It’s so good to see you cuz.”

[jacelindon]

It's almost the end of his shift - just about two hours from now and he can head home, grab a pizza from the place all his coworkers are raving about, and set out to do a little unpacking before crashing on his couch. It's just about all he can think about in the downtime between patients - grateful that it's been a somewhat slow day and nothing super wild to get his attention. He'd just come back from intubating a patient under the watchful eye of a senior resident to come back and check on the front when --

Oh, hell.

Heaving out a sigh, he approaches slight twitch in his eyebrow. If he knew any better, this Jasper person was coming here on purpose. The last time he'd seen him was the 'rib incident', Jace was calling it, and maybe there were signs of a break before - but he could tell there was something up there with the healing factor. The bruise was fading, slowly, but fading before his very eyes.

Absolutely ridiculous behavior. He almost wondered if all Port Leiry residents were like this. He'd heard enough rumors about animal attacks to know that the average everyday human was probably hysterical on a good day.

"You gotta stop treating this like a meet-cute locale. Let me see." He holds out his hand to take a look at the blister-glitter monstrosity on Jasper's fingers. "I think some solvent should get you in the clear - Did you do this on purpose?"

@jacelindon

where: E.R. evening

Jasper wasn’t trying to make the ER his second home, but here he was again, dangling his left hand in the air like it might detach if he let it drop. “Glue gun incident,” he explained cheerfully to the triage nurse, ignoring the way the skin between his fingers was now one part blister, one part sparkly pink resin. “Craft night got a little feral.”

Third visit this week. Fourth if you counted the one where he came in thinking his ribs were broken but it turned out he’d just pulled something during a very spirited game of roller derby tag. They were probably going to start charging him rent. Or barring him entirely.

He slid into a chair in the waiting room and scanned the hallways with the seasoned eye of someone who knew which vending machine ate your quarters and which one had the good granola bars. And like clockwork, rounding the corner in scrubs and an expression that could curdle milk, was Jace Lindon: ER intern, local stormcloud, purveyor of the driest “what now” looks Jasper had ever been on the receiving end of.

“Jace!” Jasper grinned, waving with his uninjured hand. “You again! Look at us, two ships passing in the fluorescent-lit night.”

He didn’t miss the way Jace’s lips twitched—almost a smile, or maybe a grimace, whatever —but he’d take what he could get. There were worse ways to spend a Thursday night than annoying a handsome intern with a tragic coffee addiction and a heart he pretended not to have.

[jacelindon]

⚡️- Ideal first date?

"Never gave it that much thought, really. Something outdoorsy."

[jacelindon]

have you lost a patient? if so do how do you process it

"Yeah, anyone in this career has. The best thing you can do is take it day by day, have a support system - even if it's one you pay for. Have an outlet."

[jacelindon]

closed starter for: @lottieleon where: port leiry general, just outside

He'd been prepared for the job to be hard, to have a hard time adjusting to the city - but the kind of tired that's sinking into his bones is a whole other type. Jace feels like he's dead on his feet, but the air here in the PNW feels different somehow, than the air back home. Like he's not quite swimming through sludge, but open.

He'd heard, too, that Charlotte was in town earlier that day - they've made plans for after his shift, but he's wondering just how long he's gonna last when he's a half second from passing out. It's worth it, he decides, as he strips out of sweaty and dirty scrubs into his usual hoodie and jeans.

Sometimes he wishes he could reach out to her with his magic from larger distances, have some real telepathic shit - but he'd never heard of that being a thing. Pen, paper, e-mails, texts. That's all they got. His minding is racing sluggishly in circles as he heads out of the hospital halls.

And there she is, approaching from the parking lot. Despite feeling like his muscles aren't gonna listen to him, his face breaks out into the widest smile he's had in years and his legs are moving to sweep her up into a big hug, spinning her around.

Once she's back on solid ground he backs up, signing as he speaks. "You been here long? Hope you didn't have to wait."

[jacelindon]

Name: Jace Lindon Occupation: Junior Resident at Port Leiry General Age: 27 Sexuality: Pansexual Species: Witch Clan/Pack/Coven?: Feng-Lindon Hometown: Savannah, Georgia Relationship Status: Single Personality Traits: Studious, Clever, Organized, Egotistical, Greedy, Spiteful

Biography

Fire destroys.

Jace's entire life, top to bottom, end to end, he'd been taught one thing: because fire is such a destructive element, he had to take care in wielding it. He would have to become one with the innate ruinous qualities of it.

When he was born, his family knew exactly which element would be his to wield — his skin was hot to the touch from the moment he took his first screeching breath, the tips of his fingers dark like coal, orange flickering up into the palms of his tiny hands. Raising a child with proclivity for fire was a chore enough of its own, but making sure that this child knew that he held the future of the coven on his shoulders was even harder. Tantrums and cacophonous cries eventually gave way to silent glares and pouts, until his explosive manners became simply a thing of the past.

Training began as soon as he could string sentences together, not only from his parents, but extended family as well. They all tried to impart their own wisdoms to make sure that Jace would carry them on into adulthood. Many didn't stick — he was a child with a one track mind. He wanted to make friends, play with his toys, goof off at recess with all the others. The more he tried to pull away into a normal childhood, the more his family pulled him back into lessons, training sessions, and studying the fundamentals. By the time he was 11, Jace had given up on trying to do anything social by the book. His life shifted to two things and two things only: magical study and mundane study.

A child with no outlet was not a healthy one, but Jace would never admit that his childhood was anything less than great.

Air lessons were fine. He manipulated the air around him to a moderate degree and moved onto the next. Earth lessons were harder, but he loved the feeling of grounding himself with bare feet in the Savannah clay. Water lessons were practically impossible, and often devolved into theoretics rather than practicals.

Fire, of course, was the easiest, but he couldn't produce flame of his own accord like he was meant to be able to. The whole point of his whole 'heir of fire' shtick was that he was supposed to be able to create the flame out of thin air, like no one else could. He'd snap his fingers and nothing would happen. He'd click his tongue and nothing would happen. Pop his lips, shuffle his feet, blink hard, scrunch his nose, yell out catchphrases from comics — nothing.

Every time he'd try, his father berated him for not taking it seriously and he was sent upstairs with more tomes chock full of theory brought from overseas. He'd show his mother how easily he was able to manipulate the fire and she would press her lips together and tell him to do his chores. Discipline and pressure shaped his teenage years.

He was sixteen when he managed to do something different than just twirl a candle's flame around his fingers. It started the same: he'd bring the flame to his palm, breathe life into it, allow it to grow and fade, then focus on the leftover heat in his palm to create a spark that would hopefully burst forth to life. Instead of the usual nothing, he felt the heat burst forth but inside of his skin. He watched, fascinated, as the skin of his palm shifted into something akin to charcoal painlessly. The char spread down through his fingertips and faded just above his wrist.

It was a comforting heat, he realized, as he watched the skin crack open to reveal fissures of heat and cinders. Jace turned his hand over and watched as the embers crackled forth just underneath the skin, floating up into the air and burning out quickly. Smoke filtered up, mimicking the black of his skin. He reached out with his magic to try and manipulate the smoke into something, anything, but it wouldn't listen to him.

The heat of his hand, though, that was easy. He focused on the heat - made it hotter. More smoke. The temperature in the room shifted. He focused on making it cooler, and the embers died down, less smoke, and the temperature fell back down to normal. He'd never heard anything like this was possible. And it was remarkably simple to control.

At his next training session with his family, he showed them what he was capable of — it was the first praise for his magic that he can remember getting at all, but they still weren't satisfied. The heat needed to be outward, violent.

And so it goes.

He produced flame for the first time just before high school graduation in the bathroom as he was adjusting his cap and gown. He snapped his fingers on a whim, shoulders loose and excited for the prospect of what college might bring, and there it was: a quick spark, a tiny flame on the end of his finger. Eyes wide, he snapped again and it disappeared. It was never brought up to his parents.

The first trip to Port Leiry was not longer after that day. It was a marriage negotiation and Jace, of course, was ripe for the picking — but thankfully, they'd managed to stress the importance of Jace getting a college education. No, this was about his siblings. He watched as they volleyed the tennis ball back and forth to figure out what exactly his siblings would need, and what the Fengs would need. He hated it.

It was the first time he felt confident in his decision to get the hell way from the coven, at least for a little while. University was going to be a new start for him and maybe, just maybe, he'd use the space and time to nurture the glimmer of potential he knew he had.

Medical school was not an easy decision, but Jace knew he had to challenge himself to be able to live up to not only his parents' expectations, but the ones he'd put on himself, too. The time away from his family was exactly what he needed, but it was also exactly the reminder he needed to realize that he was what they wanted him to be. He didn't care for a normal life, but life as an heir of fire in the Lindon family was too important to write off. The more he heard from them, the more he heard from the Fengs, the more Jace knew he had to put his head down and make sure he could live up to the potential that was written in the stars.

His entire life, he'd been taught that fire was meant to destroy, to lay waste to everything around him. It'd been drilled into his brain, even his passive thoughts on the day to day reminded him of it. Being a doctor was the exact opposite of what fire was meant to embody, and that's exactly why Jace made the choice to become one. If he could fight against his real nature, conquer it, then Jace knew he'd be able to live up to his real potential.

Jace has many lessons to learn about magic, about the fire that lives inside him, and the most important one: fire doesn't just destroy, it gives life.

Connections

siblings; jace has two older siblings, a sister and brother. they were part of his trainings when he was younger. current dynamics are up to whoever picks them up!

co-workers; anyone else who works at port leiry general. nurses, other doctors, techs, literally anyone. jace tries to be a friendly guy despite the outward demeanor.

fengs; jace has complicated feelings about the fengs, as he knows his parents were so hard on him to make sure he could be part of bringing the next generation of feng-lindons about, in an effort to make more powerful magic. he's not really about it, and feels uncomfortable with the idea of a family one day, simply because of how his parents treated him. he also is very aware that the fengs are more than likely in the same situation.

a teacher; he doesn't need anymore mentors in his life, but most of his magical training has mostly been elemental. he struggles with basic spells, but is a quick study. he'd prefer to learn from someone not in feng-lindon.

tell him he's not what they say; he thinks he's a cataclysm waiting to happen because of the fire within him. he needs someone (or multiple someones) to get through the layers of emotional trauma he's been put through and convince him he's not just a force of devastation