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Who: Whitey the White Boar of England (and Richard) & You!
Where: around Aldrip
What: Whitey takes on Aldrip! So technically a catch-all log for July
Warnings: None at the moment!

I - The City

[Whitey is a noble boar! He doesn't need to sniff around the ground for scraps of the food nor sleep outdoors in the woods. While he might be rather smaller size when compared to other wild boars he is well-fed and his coat is fine condition. He's clearly being cared for. But despite of his noble standing and pampered lifestyle doesn't mean that he's lost the touch with the world outside of the grand halls of the castles. Nah, in fact he still preferred to trot the paths of forest, sniffing the ground for fallen acorns or other hidden treats, rolling around in the bed of leaves and going for a brief swim in the lake.

Unfortunately, however, his current surroundings in Aldrip did not really provide him with such opportunities. Back at home Whitey had been able to navigate around the streets of London, but even those seemed to be different in city of Aldrip.

Well, nonetheless! Immediately after his sudden arrival to this world the boar had made sure to familiarize himself with his new home, no matter how temporary or permanent it might be. He mostly trots the dark alleys, swiftly escaping the sight of any curious on-lookers. However, those with keen eyes (or otherwise who're just very perceptive of the surroundings!) might notice a quick flash of white fur disappearing behind corners of buildings, slip past small crooks and holes in the streets and so on.

However... There are still moments when Whitey overestimates his own abilities and he finds himself from a pickle or two!]

Meep!! [His highpitched cries can be heard as he either finds himself getting stuck on a hole in a fence that tried to get through. Or when he tries to cross a road and is nearly tramped by busy people on the sidewalk, making him trip and fall on his side. Or maybe he gets in trouble with the local stray population, being chased by dogs and alley cats. After all. He is nothing but a coward. Well, either way. Poor thing. Help him out.]

II - Farm & Outskirts

[Whitey is a noble boar. He doesn't need to--- yeah, you get the picture.

Ok, the heart of the city had proven to be more trouble than what the little boar had thought. But luckily there seems to be an actual farm not too far from the city! What blessing.

Whitey enjoys his time at the outskirts and around the farm. He openly frolics around the field, rolls in the flower beds, snifs and pokes the ground with his snout while looking for hidden treats, takes a nap in the sun. Heck, he might even feel courageous enough to wander to the woods, though never too far into it.. You know! Your very usual boar behavior.

Anyway, he still is very timid so if anyone tries to approach him, be they human or animal. Though, how well he succeeds in that is another thing.]

III - Richard

[Whitey can also been spotted outside of his solo adventures around the town. During those times he can be seen accompanying a rather short and thin looking young man in dark, who's normally carrying a sword or another similar kind of weapon and looking hella moody and sulky. But that's the Duke of Gloucester for you! Sometimes he might stop and reprimand the pig, tell him not to stop in middle of sidewalk or get lost or eat garbage off the ground. To which, Whitey only lets out a defensive grunt. Because excuse you, mister! He's not the one needing the help here!

But having his human companion around also does make Whitey more brave and cheeky than when he's on his own. Meaning, that he might as well try approach a person on his own, especially if the said person happens to be enjoying themselves on a cafe or restaurant or something alike to it. He might just as well walk up right next to their table and look up with the saddest brown eyes you've ever seen! Surely you have enough heart to part with at least a bit of your food? :C

Well, whatever your choice is it doesn't matter because there's a harsh and commanding voice coming not too far from Whitey and his target;]

Oi, Whitey! Stop that.

IV - WILDCARD

[Hit me with your own TL! Also Richard can be included in both I and II prompts here if you wish so lmao. Also, while Whitey is just seemingly your average boar he also is somewhat supernaturally aware, if that makes sense?

Also also, if you want prompt/tl with just Richard that's fine too. I'll use this log as catch-all log for him. ]

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[ charles, meanwhile, is having a problem. he'd sat on one of the tables in the cafe just to people-watch, one of his favourite activities to do back home when he'd been bored — only, there's a slight issue: that people here can actually see him. and that means they expect him to order something, because why else would you go to a cafe, and so there charles sits, with a croissant on the table, untouched, and with a furrow in his brows.

because, see, it'll be real rude if he just leaves it there, right? but it's not like he can eat it. ] Bugger, [ he mutters, but then, it's as if a miracle happens: a white boar suddenly appears right next to him, eyes pleading for a little morsel of food.

and charles grins. the grin doesn't go away when the boar's... owner?? marches closer with an admonishment at the ready. ]

Nah, don't worry about it, mate, this just about solves all my problems. Can I feed him? Her? It?

[See? That's Whitye for you. Always finding people in need and ready to help them out of perils they face. That was absolutely his plan when he spotted this human (???) sitting all alone, aloof and struggling with his pastry. The brown eyes simply gleam at the grin he received, excited that this person gets him and has big heart to partake with the fancy treat on his plate.

Richard, however, looks nowhere as ecstatic...

He looks at the offending pasty with a harsh and judging eyes. Like, wtf is with that sus bread?]

Nay. He does not need to get any fatter than what he is already.

Oi, [ says charles, laughing, ] We don't discriminate here.

[ though to be fair the pig does look quite... round. but oh well! charles shrugs, as if to acquiesce, because who is he to argue with the owner? however... ]

Right, so, can I feed you, then? [ cue his most charming smile directed at richard as he pats the table opposite him, as if to say, come on and sit down, won't you? ]

[ ... oh no.

Ange was definitely enjoying her meal at a cafe all by herself. But she's at least aware enough of her surroundings - read: forced to be aware at all times because one of those terrifying Social Types might otherwise sneaks up on her - that she realises something has moved up to her table. But it's not a person at all. No, Ange has to look all the way down to spot it's actually..

Cute.

It's cute.

As Ange stares at the boar, she can't help but think it's weirdly cute.. Maybe it's that look it's giving her. And when she follows its gaze, Ange is smart enough to realise what the animal is looking at.

Even though she can't say or do a thing before there's already a voice calling out. Ange looks up and over at its source, almost feeling a little disappointed there's a person involved now. That's always harder to deal with than just an animal.. ]

Whitey? Is this one your friend? [ Ange is looking at Richard, so it's likely she's asking him the question, rather than asking the boar if Richard is his friend.

(Ange would have prefered to do the latter, but is unfortunately also aware it's not exactly the more socially acceptable option.) ]

'Meep!' [Whitey cries in a protest. Don't you believe him, Charles! He's in perfect condition! All the roundness is because of his fluff. Then, he let's out an offended snort and trots to the other side of the table, seemingly deciding in Richard's behalf that they're indeed staying.

Richard, in return, looks at the boar with displeased glare before a sigh of defeat escapes from him, the harsh tension deflating from his shoulders. Fine. If Whitey wants to stay they might as well. So, wordlessly he walks around the table, pulls a chair for himself and sits down.

What now?]

[ charles lets out a laugh, bright and amused, at the look whitey is giving him, and then at the way his owner is clearly exasperated with the antics but quite sweetly goes along anyway.

as soon as richard sits down, charles pushes the croissant so it's in front of him. ]

Don't worry, we'll get you something to go along with it. Coffee? Tea? [ he pauses before holding out his hand over the table. ]

I'm Charles. Charles Rowland. Died in 1989, current year 2024, from London, England. Star sign Taurus. [ he winks. ] Your turn.

[Ah. Charles just happens to be one those cases who just happens to talk a lot but none of the words make any sense to Richard. Like.. what the hell is even coffee?]

Ale. [He answers dryly. Though, in his experience requesting it will prove out to be useless as even the simplest drink seems to be a rarity in this world, replaced by all these weird liquids like.. whiskey and covfefe. But oh well, he's learned to be somewhat open minded to new culinary experiences, mostly thanks to his encounters with Silco. But that is nor here or there.

Aaand there he goes again. Richard keeps his expression neutral for most part of it, not really sure what to make out of the young man's ramblings. All until he makes a mention of something that he holds dear, very much so. Richard's eyes widens a bit and lips part in recognition of name "London". It's first time since his arrival here all those months ago when someone has mentioned the name of his capital and country.]

Richard. [He offers, leaning forward he places his elbows on top of the table as a sign that the man has his attention now.] What has become of London?

[ look, this is hardly the first time he's come face to face with people from ye olden times — which he assumes is the case here, given the request for ale, and the blank look of zero recognition at the word "coffee". there's plenty ghosts that are hundreds of years old, after all. so charles just gives an easy nod, waving his hand when a waiter walks past and cheerily requesting some watered-down beer, thanks before shifting his attention back to richard.

and then he blinks, both at the question and the first sign of some kind of life in the guy's face. ]

Uh, depends what you mean by that, I guess. Still standing, bustling, lot of noise, lot of people, living and dead... what's that to you? You from home, too?

[Ah bless her! Whitey takes a few steps closer when their eyes meet, gently poking her calf with his snout. Hope you don't mind that it's a bit cold. But Whitey's clearly glad that he's managed to make this small connection with a new human. Now, mind sharing a piece of your delicious food as a sign of good faith?

---Though, then they are unfortunately by the human that Whitey keeps dragging along. Sorry, Ange. You know how it's with rescues, you need to take extra good care of them and make sure to socialize them properly. Please bear with him,]

[---Anyway!

Richard, on the other hand, gives his animal companion a scolding look before turning his attention to the young girl who's meal the boar had disturbed. Crossing on hand over his chest, he offers the girl a small and apologetic bow.]

My sincerest apologies, young lady. Usually he is far more well-behaved than this.

[Well, that description did actually match Richard's own idea of London, too. It was busy city, full of life and action, with constantly moving gears and brightest cultural spot in all of England. All while also hiding the dead, miscreants and other creatures of darkness. There was no light without shadow, after all.]

I originally hail from York. But have spent the last few years in the capitol aiding my family. [Which is.. kind of what he wants to know. Now. How to inquire the status of royal family without giving out his own agenda.] Last time I was there, however, the political situation seemed to be a conflicting one. So tell me, Rowland, what became of Edward V? Who sits on throne?

[ sure, charles hears the words that come out of richard's mouth, but he doesn't register them, not fully, not until he's stared at him dumbly for a number of seconds.

when they sink in, though — ]

What the fuck, [ says charles, genuine and from the heart he no longer has. ] Mate, that's — that's from the 1400s or some shit, innit? That's where you're from?

[ oh god. oh shit. he briefly presses his hands over his face, groaning, before trying to remember something of the history lessons he mostly slept through. ]

Right. Right, so, uh, history's not my strongest point, but I'm pretty sure he died. He's one of them who got imprisoned in the Tower and killed, yeah? They say he was killed by order of the next king, but I don't think it was ever confirmed. But I'm not going to go through six hundred years of English kings and queens, so I can tell you who's the reigning king now and shit, but how they relate to what you know... no clue.

[Look, Charles. These numbers mean nothing to him. The people from good ye olden times had their own way to express the time and years. But that's really not all that important, because what he says next has his utter and unwavering focus.

So. That is what happens to Edward's boys, huh? Richard had imprisoned them in the Tower when he had proven their legitimacy for the crown to be a false one. But to order their deaths? Interesting. Their existence certainly was a threat to his own throne, but offing a member of royal family -- a previous heir, of all things, was always complicated and dangerous business. Richard's thoughts immediately go to Buckingham, believing that if the story was true his other half must have acted on his name.

Though. When Charles does mention "the next king", Richard can't keep a dark and satisfied smile spreading on his lips.]

I heard that he disappeared, right before they would have handed him the crown. The man you refer to a 'next king'.

[ it certainly is a busy day in aldrip, not that jinx understood the reason for the town's bustling, beyond it might be getting closer to lunchtime or maybe there's a celebration going on that she is unaware of. nevertheless, the girl strolls through the streets with a plastic bag in hand. inside, there's an enormous amount of paper wrapped sandwiches with a few other goodies (chips and cookies) stored neatly. the food is enough to feed a party of six, but in reality, it's all for her. the many side effects of having shimmer coursing through one's bloodstream is needing to eat an unusual amount of food to keep the body from feeling frail, especially when the serum was originally meant for fuel and energy purposes.

but it's that high-heaved screech that stops her in her tracks, and she cranks her neck over to seek for the source. there on the active roads, jinx spots the piglet attempting to make his way through before plummeting on his side when he gets knocked down. and of course the locals continue on their way without assisting the animal or paying it no mind of his troubles.

and her fellow chosen tend to wonder why jinx treat the residents the way she does. it's because deep down, in her perspective, they seem to care very little about dilemmas such as this. or maybe they're not programmed to care about it besides themselves and some of the chosen. animals are the bottom of the food chain, so it's every living organism for themselves. ]

[ despite her terror, jinx always had a soft spot for creatures or at least, always treated them respectfully — because in some cases, they're way easier to deal with than humans and sometimes more enjoyable in company. blowing air through her nostrils, the girl makes her way down the road to the piglet until she stands over him with an unimpressed expression glowing on her face. ]

What are you doing, Bacon? — This is not where you need to be.

I — look, I just told you history's really not one of my strengths. So I have no idea if that's true or not.

[ he sighs, propping his chin on his hand. ] That was about most of what I know... though, the guy was also called Richard, right, like you? Funny coincidence, that.

[ but as soon as the words leave his mouth, something rearranges itself in charles' mind. he may be a bit dumb, sure, and certainly edwin's the brains in their agency — but charles has been a detective for over thirty years, on a case almost every day, and he knows that coincidences are few and far between. and this guy, right, he said — his name's richard, and he's from york but has been in london for family business, and he immediately asked about the situation of the crown, and wasn't someone involved in the whole thing called elizabeth of york, charles is pretty sure of that —

and there's other things, too, that vaguely threatening smile on his lips and the fucking white boar that's by his side —

charles feels a bit faint, which he thinks is an accomplishment, given that he's a ghost who shouldn't be feeling much of anything. ]

Soooooo, [ and god, no, he should just shut up, but the words just fall out of his mouth like they have a mind of their own, ] Just a question, like, no pressure to answer, but... should I be calling you "your majesty"?

[If there's one thing a guy from a less modern time and a boar can appreciate, it's the the less bustling sections of the countryside. Modern technology is very convenient, mind you, but Yuri yearns for some nature with his peace and quiet sometimes. So there he is, resting on top of one of the tree branches by the forest entrance.

At least, that would have been the plan if not for the telltale sound of oinking reaching his ears. He's not that close to the livestock, is he? Sure enough, the moment he sits up he spots the very bright coat of a boar trying to inch close to the forest.

Off the bat he knows he's way too clean to be a wild boar, and a bright coat like that doesn't make the best of camouflages against predators. He must be a pet, then - so what is he doing out here, so far away from the city?

Thing is, the forest isn't exactly the safest place for such an animal. He'd rather scare him away from going inside. So the best course of action here would be...

To jump down from his resting spot and suddenly land right in front of the poor thing!]

Boo.

[He adds flatly. You know, just in case that wasn't startling enough.]

[That sure is a pig struggling on its side there. And okay, everything is a different shade of red to him, but he can still tell that the flailing animal on the ground is different from the normal colors that he associates with boars. A special kind of boar then? Wouldn't be the weirdest thing he's seen or heard since living in Aldrip. You know, he might as well see a unique boar as he was walking back home with a bag of groceries in hand.

But hey, he's not a complete dick. He's not going to leave Whitey to struggle on his own. Guess it's better if he gets to him than the local butcher. Although, he is a fan of bacon...

Nonetheless, the mutant kneels down by Whitey after placing his bag down, both hands reaching out to help pull the boar back onto his feet.]

Hey, stop moving around so much. [...Why is he talking to an animal???]

[Funny coincidence, indeed.

Richard sits in silence, watching as the gears turn in Charles' mind, winding up like clock until all the parts click. He feels something akin to a satisfaction when the realization takes root in his companion mind as the moment of clarity reflects on his eyes.

Huh, guess his ambitions were not nearly as dead and buried as he thought they were.

He raises his hand up, as if to dismiss the statement.]

There is no need for such titles, young sir. I have no kingdom here, do I?

Well, no, but —

[ temporarily out of words, charles just groans and wipes his hand across his face, like it might help him find some clarity.

it doesn't. shocker. ]

Bloody hell, [ he mutters, and then says, louder, ] I can't just call the king of bloody England "Richard", can I? Shit. [ and then he adds, ] And don't call me "young sir", god, that's so wrong on so many levels. It's just Charles.

Charles. [Richard leans back on his chair and crosses a leg over another as he tastes the man's name on his tongue. The previous sullen demeanor he wore around him like a cloak seems to be partially lifted upon his person, giving room to the more prideful and dignified posture.]

Nay, you shall not. [He will not be addressed so lightly, not now that the truth behind their social statuses are out in public between them.] "Your Grace" or "My lord" shall suffice for time being.

[It's a cruel and unfair world, Jinx! Or multiverse! Though that concept might just as well be a tad too vast and complicated for Whitey's tiny mind.

Unfortunately, Whitey is more or less used to such reaction by humans. As most of the times they do not either pay any attention to him or, if they do, try to chase him around. Either for amusement or for food. Though this is a first time he's had to watch out for traffic like this!

He's struggling and wiggling on the pavement, trying his best to flip to his side and back onto his feet when he sees a sudden shadow loom over him. He stops his moving, and nervously looks up with his tiny brown eyes]

Meep?

[ well, he sure changed his tune fast, didn't he? though charles has to admit it suits him, the change in posture, as if some kind of spell has lifted and he's seeing him for the first time, for real.

he grins. it doesn't waver in the slightest when the waiter finally comes and sets the glass of beer next to the plate holding the croissant that started this whole thing. ]

Well, my lord, your drink's here. Try the croissant. Been thirty-five years since I've eaten anything, but I still remember they were real good.

[ when he peers to her, she cocks her head to one side wordlessly, like a crow inspecting the other animal if it's worth their time to do anything about. but the girl crouches to the piglet's level and assists him by nudging him to be back on all fours. and if this successfully happens, jinx then extends her arms out to the animal. ]

I'll carry you across. Or get stomped on again, your choice.

[It's truly wild just how far can little piece of validation take you.

At first, Richard merely looks at the drink brought to the table from the corner of his eye but his composure falters pretty much immediately when he sees just what is being offered to him. His brows knit together into a perplexed frown as he watches the small bubbles slowly but steadily to raise from the bottom of the glass, moving all the way up to white foam at the top. What the hell is that?

Oh well... He is not one to refuse a tribute from a subject. So, instead he goes for the bread referred as "croissant". He grabs it from the plate and breaks it apart, wholly unsure what to think of the texture. And! As one might expect, a pink snout pokes out from underneath of the table, sniffing eagerly. ]

You spoke of death earlier. [Leave it to Richard to always focus on the grim topic. And despite objecting to it earlier, Richard does slip a piece of croissant under the table]

[ charles, in turn, can't quite help but be endeared by how bewildered richard seems to be at the sight of the beer and at the croissant in general; must not have been here long either, then, otherwise he'd have got used to the modern food. ]

I swear it's good. Trust me.

[ with a nod towards the croissant that's now been subjected to a very cruel dissection. and then, though one might think death is a somewhat morbid topic, charles just grins. ]

Yeah. I'm a ghost, see? [ and to demonstrate, he just waves his hand, passing it clean through the table. his entire body, as he does so, seems to turn blue and see-through, spectral in form, as he does so; the moment he withdraws his hand, he looks all solid once more. ]

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iii.

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im so sorry hes like this

lmao bless him...

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another whitey tag just for her

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i.

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ii, richard can say hi if he wants!

i; richard can pop in later if he wants!

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made this icon just for this tag

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i feel honored

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