[Kitsumi]

Being surrounded by people made Bentley nervous, but this was where Antoinette had insisted on meeting him. She had claimed that the crowd would make their bumping into each other seem less conspicuous, or something like that. He wasn't sure if he agreed with her, but he had learned long ago that the woman was too stubborn to be argued with. So he was here on time... no, ten minutes past their meeting time... waiting for her. Realizing that he might be waiting for a while, he lit up a cigarette to pass the time.

(Raffle post)

[Jedi]

Heiron

The witch wandered through the streets, gathering all sorts of weird and random ingredients. She'd snatched a few newts, wolfsbane, hemlock and other random potion ingredients. She just needed one more ingredient. Heiron made her way to the well, a few bottles and a bucket in hand. "Alright, now to get this magic water and I can get buuuusaaay." She ignored the cringy looks from a few people who managed to see her.

Heiron lowered the bucket and raised it back up, filled with water. "Wait..." She gave it a few sips. "This is just water... Wait." She dropped a coin in and watched the water glow, then tried again. "There we go. That's good for now."

[crow]

Seere stared down into the well. The black depths of it yawned before him, but if he stared hard enough, he could almost deceive himself into thinking that he could see the water--- that he could see his brother, trapped somewhere below.

Normally he would have chased such thoughts away, but today, in the heart of winter, with his breath clouding the air and the cold settling over him like a shroud, he found he didn't have the heart to do it. The snow reminded him of their childhood home; and in those washed out memories, Rhys had seemed like the only warmth, the only light.

He couldn't afford to waste time here, he knew. And he knew better than anyone that the gods cared not for the plight of someone like him.

All the same, he tossed a coin into the well. He prayed that Rhys was safe, wherever he was.

As for their reunion... He would work toward that with his own two hands.

(Raffle post)

[Jaykobell]

Ah, what a frustrating day. It was mostly doing things ahead of time, to save time, to cram everything that had to get done before a deadline that was fast approaching. Yes, as a matter of fact, it was approaching much too fast. They had asked for some help. Their time off would not be so relaxing, after all.

For the time being, they could only wait. And that was the worst part: they had to wait before they could do anything to move forward. For now, the only thing they could do, was pay this daily visit to the Wishing well.

Once again, down went a little Keystone.

[Raffle Post]

[zapdragon555]

"Cedimus, an subitum luctando accendimus ignem? Cedimus: leve fit, quod bene..."

Karl's tongue felt useless in his mouth. He stared at the sentence he'd just read over, hating the sound of his own voice, and took a breath, backing up a few words. "C—Cedimus... leve fit, quod fertur—"

"It's cedamus, the second go-around. With an 'A'."

Karl nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a familiar voice, clutching Amores close to his chest, likely bending the thin pages a bit in the process. Karl's dark eyes shot up, filled with an instinctive shame, and... upon resting his gaze against a calm blue one, he felt some of that embarrassed heat leave his face. "Johan," he breathed, like it was perfectly understandable that the young man would find him here. "You... found me?"

Johan didn't answer right away. Instead, he drew nearer, a handsome tweed jacket and dark turtleneck seating beside Karl on the rock wall separating the old wishing well from the street. "Seems so," he finally murmured, reaching over with a delicate hand to tip the book of Latin poetry back, saving the poor thing's pages from an untimely ruination against Karl's winter jacket. "Did you not want to be found?"

Karl wasn't expecting a question like that. Did it matter whether he wanted to be found or not, now that Johan was here? Did any of his previous thoughts matter? His heart, flutter-bird thing that it was in his chest (Johan was sitting so close...) seemed to speak a resounding no. "I-I guess not," he breathed out in a sheepish chuckle, though he would have tried for Not by anyone but you, if his mouth were just a little more eloquent, or quick. "But it's fine. You're... fine. How are you?"

Karl felt warm under his clothes from the gentle, yet somehow piercing smile from the other boy. "A better question would be, how is poor Ovid? Rolling in his grave, to witness his work getting crushed and mangled." Karl's brows quirked up, then knitted, the light feeling in his chest starting to cage itself in.

"I... I'm trying to get it. For some reason, it all just... it doesn't come out right, when I try to recite it. Even in private," Karl's words were spilling, now, hesitant at first but now a deluge of his tangled thoughts. "Even in private I stumble over my words. I don't know—I'll never be able to live up to Schuwald's expectations. I'm not... cut out for it. Not like you."

He hadn't meant to turn so venomous. Karl took in a short, sharp breath, a wince in its own right, and turned his head to look up at Johan's face, placid and sweet as ever. "I-I didn't mean..."

"I was talking about that hug you gave it, when I startled you. You'll curl the pages, like that... then you'll really be in trouble with Schuwald." Karl felt the pressure in his chest fizzle in confusion, as Johan reached over to the book splayed open over his lap. With a gentle hand he smoothed out pages that had been slightly creased, and Karl watched with a shameful glow to the tips of his ears. He'd... he'd assumed too much, just then. Assumed Johan was criticizing his Latin recitation skills, when Johan had been nothing but polite to him all this time, ever since Lotte had introduced them. His head was so loud with insults hurtled at himself, that he'd put them into Johan's mouth without realizing—

"There. As good as an ancient book like this can be." Johan's voice brought Karl back to the present, blinking out of the dark and into the grey of the cold winter afternoon. He looked up, met that kind gaze once more, now... much closer, only for a few seconds, before Johan returned to his upright seat. "But you know... this weather isn't good for it. Cold, and damp... bad for books, those two things. Bad for book readers, too."

Karl stared at the open book in his lap, and as Johan's words sank in, found himself gathering it up and shutting it with a soft thud and a softer sigh. "I know. I wish I could blame my verbal stumbling on the cold, but I can't. It doesn't matter where I am." He thumbed over the book's well-worn spine. How much love had Schuwald sunk into this book, when his eyes still worked? Into all of his many hundreds of books? It was... difficult to imagine such a cold man as him loving anything, much less something so soft as poetry. Karl squinted as a fat snowflake alighted on his lashes, bringing up a hand to rub the bite of cold away.

Johan shifted, and stood with a near silent brush of fabric. The boy seemed to move like a ghost, Karl thought, and the snowy terrain only added to that silent image. "The snow is picking up. Will you walk back to campus with me?"

The offer seemed to strike a delayed response in Karl, still staring at that rust-red book and its crumbling gold lettering, when the brunt of it finally sank in. His heart leapt into his throat instinctively, then settled with a softer, giddier excitement, standing automatically to reach into his backpack resting on the ground against the wall. "Sure. Yeah, I'd be happy to walk with you," his voice sounded blessedly casual, to him, but when he looked up from the cloth he was gathering out of his backpack, an almost knowing, pleased smile looked back at him. Karl felt himself start to smile back, wondering what it was for—if it was for anything at all. Johan was one of the first people Karl had ever known in his life to smile at absolutely nothing, and while Karl couldn't possibly understand such a thing, it enchanted him nonetheless.

He wrapped Ovid's Amores in protective cloth and slipped it into his backpack with haste. He was on his feet proper and falling into step beside Johan before the snow had much of a chance to collect on his dark curls.

"I'm not one to pry," Johan lied softly, as he laced long fingers behind his back, "but how did you find yourself at a place like that?"

"Oh, the old well?" Karl murmured, casting a glance back over his shoulder at the disappearing little structure, watching it be eclipsed by shrubbery as they turned a corner. "I... come here, sometimes. Or, did, when I was a freshman. It's... one of my spots, I guess."

"Like the roof? A place you go to think," Johan's voice held a genuine curiosity to it, and Karl felt his heart flutter once more, reawakened by the realization that Johan had... remembered that. Remembered what Karl had told him on the roof. His hand burned, suddenly, a phantom reminder of the way that Johan had gathered his hand in a cage of pale fingers and pressed it, held it, as tears fell. He wondered if Johan put as much weight on that moment as Karl found himself unable to resist doing.

He quickly darted his hand into the pocket of his jacket, smothering it before it caught the yearning fever in his heart. "Yeah. Just like the roof."

[Raffle post]

[Freezair]

Damien peered over the lip of the well.

He saw... nothing. Well, there were the brick walls of the well, descending into darkness. And there was a very faint glimmer of water below.

Stupid well, he thought. So many people have thrown their money in here that water probably tastes awful.

He ran his fingers over the smooth Kinstone in his hand, his fingers feeling the rune on its surface.

He held his hand over the water. He closed his eyes.

Maybe... just maybe... if you're there...

...I want to be a little better at magic.

He uncurled his fingers and the stone dropped.

((Raffle post))

[amanda784]

Nala happily strolled up to the well. This place had become a source of comfort for her. She found a nice seat and began journaling. At the top of her journal entry she drew a rough sketch of the well. She titled her entry as "wishes".

1) To be a good mother
2) To be able to provide
3) To become a better herbalist
4) To create a good family
5) To fly

Nala smiled at her journal entry. The first four were actual wishes or goals set. The last was a childish wish just because. It was always good to wish. It was always good to dream.

[FrostWynd]

With his skepticism already at its peak, Jayden would repeat what had been done by those kits. His eyes would stare down into darkness as soon as he raised his head up high enough past the edge to see, and he waited. Ears were held high to pick up any sort of distinct sound that they had attempted to describe to him.

Moments would pass... The building above the well would show its age in a not very subtle manner as he heard just about every little creak and groan of the wood overhead. The wind and cold air easily made its way in through all the little cracks, and the place was pretty dreary overall in the not quite sheltered darkness.

He didn't actually hear anything else though.

(Raffle Post)

[Adelie]

Wolf considers. Despite her hesitation and awkwardly-formed answers, the interviewer seems genuine and the terms are fair; besides, it's not like Wolf has any ideas about where to start investigating, either. If anything, this is an excellent opportunity for her to gather some information and see what everyone else knows.

"Sure, I guess," she says, finally. "There might be some questions that I'm unwilling to or can't answer, but I'll tell you when that's the case. Is that okay with you?"

"Sure," the girl says brightly, and then picks up her phone to start the recording function. "Um, I guess I'll start by introducing myself - my name's Ven, and I'm a student, as you well know. I'm doing this as a part of my class on introductory journalism, so I'll be recording this and including it in my final report." Sounds good so far. "I guess then - um, can you tell me a little about yourself? It doesn't have to be anything identifying, but like... something to get to know you by?"

"Um," she responds, a little caught off-guard. "I like to put salt on my fruit? Does that count?"

(raffle post!)

[GrayGriffin]

The spirit fluttered up to the well quietly, landing on the edge and leaning down to speak to it directly.

"You know why I'm here," he said softly. "I'm here on behalf of my old master, someone who's still searching for what to do with their life. Let this next year be better for them, and make sure they take care of themself." He pulled out a Keystone from who-knew-where, before lightly flicking it in. "This is more of a formality, really, but I hope you appreciate it nonetheless."

[Raffle post]

[Celtic]

There were some things Ryley simply didn't do and going to the outskirts of town was one of them. Unfortunately, these were desperate times and some exceptions had to be made. She checked her watch-- it was almost noon! "Shit, gotta go, gotta go! Where the hell is my coat?" The girl was running around her little apartment in a flurry of activity, throwing anything that could be hiding her coat off whatever perch it was on and onto the floor. Perhaps this was why her coat was missing... But that was a talk for another time.

"Ugh this place is 600 square feet, has no closets and still-- STILL I am stuck searching." She sat on the floor, head tipped up. "Whyyyy," she groaned, dragging fingers down her face. A couple minutes of self pitying later, the woman picked herself up and muttered, "Now where haven't I looked?" A little bit of hmming and ha'ing led her to the bathroom. Not a likely place for a coat, but she wasn't taking any chances. With a nice schwiiiiing! the shower curtain opened to reveal her coat, hung on the shower curtain.

"Oh for pity's sake. Why am I like this!" More groaning followed the exclamation, but she quickly threw on the coat and was out the door, practically running. Using a small crumpled piece of paper for directions, Ryley flew through town, taking lefts, rights, running straight, running directly into people... Until finally, she was in the slummy part. Drawing herself close, Ryley's whole demeanor changed. She no longer smiled at the strangers she passed, she wasn't smiling at her idiot self for running into a cart or over a small child, instead she wrapped her coat around her tightly and only looked up when she needed to for directions.

Get it together girl. We are only here for a few minutes, just drop in the keystone and leave. Just drop in the keystone and leave. Her little pep talk did nothing to help her state of mind and her heart was beating erratically. Muscles tensed and Ryley started to get very, very hot. She attempted to focus on her breathing, try and calm down somehow, but memories began rushing back. She couldn't do it, she had to go back. This was too much.

Ryley stopped moving, shut her eyes and forced herself to name 5 things she saw, 4 things she could hear, 3 things she could feel, 2 things she could smell and 1 thing she could taste. She wasn't sure if that was the right order of things, but it helped refocus her mind and that's all the mattered. When her eyes opened again, Ryley realized she was just a stone's throw away from her destination. Right, I can do this. Throw in the keystone and dip. And so she did, not bothering to stick around to hear it drop or see if anything happened. She threw her keystone and ran back the way to came, back to safety.

[zapdragon555]

Ash didn't make a habit of hanging around places like this. Old, abandoned spots had a certain loneliness to them, a certain quality that he could relate all too well to, and thus, avoided them like the plague.

Frankly, it was a weird as hell spot to pick for a showdown. Ash tossed his folded switchblade back and forth in his hands, tucked between his knees as he sat on the rim of the well. He supposed, at least, it was unlikely for any innocent bystanders to get caught in the crossfire, and it was even less likely for the cops to show up, here.

Still. It was cold as hell out here. So cold that Ash regretted waving away Eiji's insistence to bring that fur-lined coat that he'd scraped money together for and bought for Ash for his birthday. 'I don't wanna get blood on it,' he'd said something like that, and at the time had taken a kind of sick amusement at Eiji's worried, knitted brows. 'Kidding. I'm just stepping out for groceries, and it's not that chilly out. Stay inside, remember?'

Yeah, groceries. Ash stiffened and stilled as he heard a twig snap somewhere, raising his head to stare into the treeline off to the left. To his right, the fenced-off street was dead quiet, in the early morning haze. Moreso than the coat... he regretted leaving Eiji alone at all. Of course, if something went wrong—and nothing would go wrong—Eiji had support. Ash leaving him behind wouldn't spell certain death for him. It couldn't. That was what all of this was for, now, the fights and the bloodshed and the silencing and the threats, the bearing of his fangs... all of it was to protect what little happiness he'd managed to scrape out in this hellhole of a city. What happiness, rather, that Eiji had so generously heaped into his hands, his small hands so un-used to holding such happiness, so that it was spilling over onto the floor and leaving him with only the smallest palmful. It was enough. It was enough... just knowing that Eiji would be safe would be enough to die with.

Ash blinked hard out of his thoughts, realizing that he was watching a deer walk across the treeline. He'd been so distracted that even a large animal like that hadn't snapped him out of it. That... that was dangerous. Ash's eyes darted around, sharp emerald scanning the trees, the street, the thatched roof covering of the well he perched on, now. Nothing... still nothing. No sign of the man who would be his opponent for the day, the sacrifice pushed forward by this rival gang that would finally give up their claim this part of the city if Ash sent their best fighter home in a box.

'I kind of miss grocery shopping. Is that weird? I've been cooped up in here for so long that I'm dreaming about picking out avocados...'

The memory Eiji's soft, sheepish laughter that previous night opened a pit of guilt in his chest, as he gripped his switchblade tighter. He was too good. Eiji was—he was far too good for this city. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching, slow and calm, drew Ash's eyes up, a dark intent flitting over his face as he unfolded the blade, and stood, waiting.

He would make this city safe for Eiji to go grocery shopping for as long as he wanted, alone, if he wanted. That was the sole reason why Ash gripped his weapon so tight.

[Raffle post]

[SpringsSong]

Lana. Xyshari.

The women returned the next day, and just like the day before, Xyshari's eyes were glowing a bright blue. Once more, she looked across the well and saw the figure she had seen the day before. She offered a faint smile as she bowed her head.

<We're back,> she said, looking at him - though anyone else, even Lana, would only see her looking off into the distance.

<So you are, Shari,> he replied, and Xyshari couldn't help but smile at the use of her nickname. <But what did you mean yesterday, when you said you were here for me?>

<I meant, maybe we could... find a way for you come into this world, regardless of if you are living, or as a ghost,> Xyshari said. <So that... that others can see you, too; like Lana. I do want the two of you to be able to... talk.>

"My love?" Lana asked, and Xyshari turned her head for a moment to regard her wife, giving her a light kiss on the cheek.

"I know, ra svet," Xyshari said, extending her hand out over the well with a keystone in it. "Please... let my friend return to me," she said, looking directly into the spirit's eyes.

(Raffle post)

[Kylo]

He just needed a bit more cash and then he could get the perfect gift. Just 5 more GT and he would be good. But he was a broke tiny man with no job or hopes of actual work so he was going to do the next best thing, wish for it. It worked before so why not try again? It wasn't like he was being selfish. It was for a gift. So with a hop, skip, and clap he threw the coin down into the well.

"I wish for some hard cold cash!"

Wishing for 5 GT for a gift c:

[Jedi]

Nalfros

With the longship anchored just off shore, and the rest of the crew wandering through Nabias, Nalfros, the  lowly grunt among the barbaric Vikings, found his way to the well. He drew a bucket up for a drink, then found himself spitting out a coin or two. "What's with these strange folk? Throwing money in the drinkin' water?" He tossed them back in the waters, unsure of the reasoning behind it. "The nerve of land folk."

[Raffle Post]