Welcome To Wherever
It's dark, it's cold, it's two in the morning, it's snowing, and you're walking through Neopia Central. Your hands are shaking from the cold, and the beam of your flashlight is wobbling from the path under your feet to the grass covered in snow to the shops lining the streets, all with their doors closed and the lights off-- all but one. Like a moth to a flame, you're drawn to the light and the promise of warmth.
It's a small coffee shop, nestled cozily between a book shop and a child's toy store. A sign hung on the frosted glass, reading "Yes, we're open!" in bold, blue letters. Without hesitation, you pull open the door and step inside.
The warm smell of coffee intoxicates you, mingled with the sweeter smell of hot cocoa. Circular tables and tall chairs are set up across the milk-chocolate-brown tile. Though you're certain you've never been here before, it feels like some form of home-- a warm, cozy feeling. Thankful for the warmth, you close the door behind you and sit down at a table.
Within an instant, a young man is at the table, green eyes clearly communicating "don't order anything, it's two A.M. and I don't want to work." Despite this, he pulls out a small notepad. "I'm supposed to take your order," he tells you dully.
You frown. "A less irritable waiter? Can I get that?" He glares at you. "No? Okay. Didn't think so, anyway. Coffee, please. Average, plain coffee," you say with a nod.
He raises an eyebrow, and for the first time you look him over. He's an Aisha, probably eighteen or nineteen, black hair falling messily into green eyes. Unkempt wasn't quite the word, as the messiness looked purely intentional and almost nice. His black shirt and dark jeans seem strangely at odds with the warm coffee shop. Your eyes move to his employee nametag, but all you find is a sticker that reads "Hello, my name is 'none of your business.'" He nods curtly. "Average coffee. One boring mug of brown coming up." He seemed to enjoy the idea himself, turning around to go get it. You realize as he turns that there's a pair of dark wings folded against his back. Black feathers coat the wings, turning innocent bird wings into something colder and darker-- almost demonic. It clicks together for you, then. The boy was Darigan. But all of these things combined, the dark hair, the black wings, his dark clothing, and especially his soft green eyes, all seem, instead of giving a dark effect, to leave him with an air of loneliness, and for a moment you could see the Aisha as neglected. You shoo this thought from your head quickly. Who are you to judge, after all?
The boy comes back with your coffee, setting it down in front of you. He turns again, but this time you stop him. "Hey, could you sit? Just for a little while?" you ask.
He looks around at the empty coffee shop and shrugs. "Sure. I don't think anyone's about to come in, anyway." He makes a face and grabs a chair, sitting across from you.
You stir your coffee quietly. "My name's guest, by the way," you offer.
He shrugs. "Did I ask?" The skeptical look in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a glow of amusement.
You roll your eyes and start offering conversation starters. His name, your job, his job, your family, his family-- ah. As soon as you say "what about your family" you get a reaction.
A frown crosses his face, and confusion skips briefly through his eyes. You pause, waiting for an answer. When he doesn't give one, you ask directly. "What about your family?" A sigh is his response.
He shakes his head silently. "Uh…my family was dysfunctional. To put it mildly. I dunno anymore. I haven't seen my little sister for thirteen years and both my parents are dead…" he trails off.
You frown. "I'm sorry," you mutter.
The boy shrugs. "Don't be. My mom was the only one who was about to care for us in that family, my dad's better off dead, and I'm guessing my sister's far better now than if I had tried to help her…I was six, see," he explained further. You nod. "I guess you should know a little more about me before I bore you with my story, though, huh?" Lemme just go get a cup of coffee for myself…" He nods and begins to stand. Instead, you push your own untouched cup of coffee in front of him. He smiles and, without hesitation, sits back downs and begins to sip the coffee. After a moment, he glances up. "Yeah. That's what I wanted. So. Who am I…?"
His Name is Flayeei
Name: Flayeei Jeran Neis
Pronunciation: Flay-ee
Nicknames: Flay, if you must have a nickname. He prefers to go by Flayeei.
Gender: Male
Species: Aisha
Age: 19
B-Day: June 13th
Paint Brush Color: Darigan (as of 1:46 NST, 3/7/09)
Eye color: Emerald Green
Hair: Black and messy, though it manages to look nice.
Adopted or Created: Created
Personality: Usually exhausted, never fully rested, resulting in frequent mood swings. Often irritated for no good reason, Flayeei can also be a devoted friend. He's a protective, easily amused Darigan with nothing short of a strange sense of compassion- that is, when not dangerously low on caffeine. He's described commonly as a "friend by instinct"…that is, when not described as an "Annoyed little aisha with a dangerously strong will" .
Love: He's got
someone…
Fur color: Purple, Blue-violet, white, beige-ish, white, black
Daily attire: Black t-shirt, jeans, black sneakers.
Wings: Large black "angel wings."
Most noticeable feature: His wings
Occupation: He works at a coffee shop. Purely for the employee discount.
Theme Song: The Young and the Hopeless- Good Charlotte
Roleplay: Open in Quad and Anthro
So Long Ago...
Flayeei stirs the coffee absent mindedly. "Let's see…where do I start? At the beginning, I guess." He pauses. "My parents…my mom loved my father more than anything-- he didn't love her, though. He was a drunk idiot who would never understand compassion." The Aisha glares at the table, clear disgust on his face.
He blinks and looks up, starting again. "Uh…When I was little there were a bunch of fights between Darigan and Meridell. Nothing like a war, just a couple of fights. Anyway, I got stuck in the middle of one of them. These fights were…brutal. Violent. There were murders and deaths and I was lucky I wasn't one of them. I must've been three years old. Some Darigan Aisha picked me up, looked me in the eyes, and told me I was lucky. Then he got me out of the fight." He pauses, hesitating, unsure of what to say next. "From then on I had this absolute need to be Darigan." He smirks. "You can imagine about how well that went over with my parents, right? They'd grown up in Meridell. And when I came home with a Darigan Aisha collar around my neck…well, they were less than enthusiastic." He shrugs.
He takes a patient sip of the coffee. "I'd saved up my money since I was four. Every penny I got was put towards that paint brush. I was born as a blue Aisha, see," he explains. "Anyway, when I was five my little sister was born. I couldn't stand her for the first year of her life. And then my mom died. On my sixth birthday," he adds casually. "My sister sort of became my reason to live. I had a couple of friends, but my little sister was the absolute and only reason I didn't run away from everything." He bites his lip. "Actually…I did. When I was about seven I got sick of it all. I ran. I ran away from home, I ran away from fear, I ran away from the world and I wasn't looking back." He glances away from you, avoiding your eyes and your questioning glance. "I don't know what I was thinking. I spent the night with a friend and the next morning, I went right back home." Flayeei looks up again, his eyes somber.
He shrugs. "There was nothing left of my family. A couple police officers, standing around my house were the only thing that made me sure it was all real. The officers looked at me and told me I shouldn't have been there and when I asked why, they told me a man had tried to kill his two year old daughter and then killed himself. They said the kid was with a woman now who was planning to adopt her. I haven't seen her since." He looks away again, unable to hold your gaze. "I went to the only place I could go.
. "Mihn's house had always been a safe haven for me. Even when I was little she was a good friend. But her family took me in, which is something I can never repay her for," he says quietly. "They were going to give me an education, make sure I didn't end up like my father, let me have a chance at living a normal life…and I tried it their way. Until the last year of junior high. I never even started high school. I couldn't bring myself to believe an education was really needed," he says with a roll of his eyes. "I was so stupid. I astound myself sometimes." You smile, though he frowns.
. "Anyway. I dropped out of school and joined the Darigan army-" You cut him off before he can finish.
. "Wait," you say quickly, "you joined the army at, what, fourteen?" You raise an eyebrow.
He gives an amused grin. "Uh huh. Well…it was a militia, if we're going to be technical. I dunno what prompted me to do so. But I did. Mihn's family, who had decided I was the son they never had, sort of let me go on my own from there. They wanted absolutely no part in my life." Flayeei nodded, allowing himself a small smile before he continued. "I couldn't stand it. The militia was utterly relentless-- where most would prefer order, it was chaos and violence. I wasn't made for a life like that." He paused again, taking another sip of the coffee. "But I had to stay. I didn't have anywhere to go home to this time." Flayeei set down the now empty mug of coffee, putting his chin on his hand and resting his elbow on the table.
. "I got kicked out in the end. I don't even remember why, now." He shrugs. "I was on my own for a little bit after that, and during that I scraped together enough money to paint myself Darigan. Then Mihn got a permanent home in Meridell, and from there she started taking in the family. I was first, of course. Mihn took me in--well, I'm three years older than her, but it's her house. Then Tani came home and then Kelpy, then Risu, and so on. We had to move out of the house in Meridell, we moved to Faerieland. When Charm moved in, we left there and moved to the Haunted Woods. Things since have been as normal as they ever could be with twenty-one insane people running around a house." He grinned and nodded. "I stopped sleeping a little while ago. I'll manage maybe ten hours of sleep a week. Which is where coffee comes in. I drink coffee a lot. And when I say 'a lot' I mean I average six cups in the morning, and I need at least three before I can even focus…or breathe…" He trailed off, grinning. "And…that's it."
So There's This Girl…
."And I'm sort of kind of in love with her," he tells you, a grin on his face. You yourself smile. "I can't describe it. When I'm near her I'm just…Happy. I knew she was special when I met her, but now I know why. Because she's…absolutely perfect." He pauses.
He reaches for the mug of coffee, and, upon finding none, pushes it away. "I dunno why, but for some reason she likes me, too…I can't imagine why. When I'm around her…I'm different, too. I'm not focused on anything, I'm…in love," the way he says it, you knew he'd doubted it could happen from the beginning. And now the goofy grin on his face gives you a warmth inside. Just knowing that love was still in the world.
He's not too Picky
Likes:
-Coffee
-Nuks
-Darigan Stuff
-Flying
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Dislikes:
-Tea
-His father
-Goodbyes
-Missing sleep
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A House Full of Crazy
Flayeei passes a stack of pictures across the table to you. You pick up the first one and see a young xweetok. "Risu and I…Aren't speaking right now," he murmurs, looking away from you. "We have a few key points we disagree on…Nothing I want to get into right now," he adds, looking at your questioning frown. "Let's leave it at her responsibility is questionable and she thinks she can care for two children. Anyway…She's…uh…well, she's an xweetok. One of my adopted sisters." He doesn't seem to want to say anything more on the subject.
He smiles as you look at the next picture. "Tani's twelve and has this undying need to be a draik. A faerie draik, of all things. From a sweet little usual to a faerie draik. Anyway, Mihn's a pushover and we're saving for her morphing potion…needless to say, we don't have much money to spare at the moment." He seemed a little annoyed. "Anyway. All of this is because of her foster mother or whoever a few years ago…yeah, long story. Don't ask," he advises. You shrug.
He frowns when you see the next one. "Kelpy's a reckless little xweetok. She can't take care of herself, but she manages pretty well as long as she's on the water. She's a pirate, see. Born and raised to go against the law and all forms of authority. She had her wings cut off when she was a kid…now she jumps off of things to see if it's like flying. She gets hurt a lot," he added, rolling his eyes.
The next picture is ruined, apparently scribbled over with black marker. "…My father," Flayeei mutters. "He hardly deserved to live in the first place, he doesn't deserve to live on in photos." You decide it's best not to comment.
You flip over the next picture and see a child, reaching out to the camera. Flayeei looks away again. "My little sister…I don't know what happened to her, but I wish I could find her. The best I can hope is that she's alright wherever she is. Wherever that happens to be." He stares at the table blankly. You frown and glance back down at the image. The little girl must have been two or so, messy brown hair, and bright green eyes. Upon closer inspection, she and her brother shared a number of similar traits. You quickly push the picture to one side.
His mood changes quickly as you look at the picture of the blond human. "Yeah. That'd be Mihn. She has…problems. She's hyper and gives blonds a seriously bad name." His smile widened. "She draws and roleplays and plays Dueling Decks like a madwoman. She's definitely and addict." He nods. "But…yeah," he finishes with a shrug.
A Couple of Friends
SO I TOTALLY LIED D: HE NEEDS FRIENDS. NEOMAIL mihneis TO RP
A Cup of Coffee
Trades: Closed
Requests: Closed
Rules:
All adoptable related neomails should be sent to Mihneis with the subject "Not Tea".
To pick up an adoptable, just replace PETNAME with the full name of your pet-- capital letters, underscores, and your exact spelling.
If you don't know the other rules, you have no business taking an adoptable.
ALSO: The initial idea and inspiration for these adoptables belongs to AnnoyedTooLate. I have permission to use it.
Appearance
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Toybox
Art for Flayeei
Mihn's art:
Art by Others:
Farewell
The chiming of a clock fills the small coffee shop. Flayeei looks up instinctively. "Three in the morning," he murmurs. "Thank Fyora. I'd better lock up and get home. I recommend you get back to wherever you came from, too, guest." He slides off of the chair, shaking his head.
When you look at him now, knowing his past, you can see through the illusion of apathy he casts around himself. You can understand why he would, and why he would try not to grow attached to people, but his past seems to only make him grow more attached a little too quickly. You too slide off of your chair and leave the boy to his work, wishing you'd given him at least a formal farewell.
As You Leave
