01-21-2016, 02:41 AM
Although a bit difficult to decipher from his distance, Jams could pick apart the issue in the group with only minimal difficulty. Based on what he heard, the person in green was dubbed "Val" by the irate sociopath beside him, which would presumably be extended to "Valerie." Val seemed to act in the opposite method of whatever his friend decided upon. In fact, considering the way they communicate with one another, it seemed to Jams that they may even have a teacher-student relationship. Huh. Anyway, it seemed as if the dog-eared girl was about to rip off the head of the bitter schizophrenic. It was something akin to a lion sneezing while a circus performer dared to put it's head in it's mouth; it was dangerous, terrifying and unpredictable when she would actually do it. At the same time, the man was prepared to strike like the ferocious bear he was.
Whatever the conflict was here, it seemed to revolve around a particular pile of slime that the grey humanoid landed on. Jams does not even dare try to connect the dots further there. The conflict has been finished by now as the man walked away a minute ago, so investigation would be many times more complicated anyway. Instead, he looks toward deciphering a couple of clues about the hulking, ghastly creature that seemsalmost zombie-like in nature.
Most of the information Jams got about Grundy was from the one line "GRUNDY NOT LET YOU HURT FRIENDS," including the fact that his name was stated in that sentence. Jams was not sure why this line stood out, but it did, and it certainly helped him learn more about the group. For starters, this ghostly figure's name as Grundy and he seemed to be very protective of his friends based on his less-than-empty threats. In addition, his sentence structure depicts that he isn't the brightest of people. That's cool, Jams never judges people for things outside of their control, and Grundy's dedication to his pals seemed to more than make up for it.
As for that grey humanoid, he was accompanied by some creepy clown of a similar complexion with white face paint (or was it the other way around?), yet his horns were notably longer and sharper. Based on what the tired humanoid stated, it seems that he is unfamiliar to these people, and based on what he shouts at Grundy, it is implied that his eerie companion is titled Gamzee. "Hooray, context clues!", Jams declares in a moderate tone of voice. However, Jams is unfamiliar with "Faygo." Is it a soda? Jams wouldn't know for sure, he grew up on the off-brand Cory Cola.
Upon analyzing all the clues he remembered, Jams decides it's time to actually try and speak with someone. He notices someone in the distance and presumes that they are also new to the Canvas, as they appear to be simply standing place with a book in their hand, probably attempting to make sense of the situation. They aren't blinded, though, which disappoints Jams considering the comedic suffering he endured after Omni's lecture. They seem to wear a dark-green hoodie or something similar to a hooded robe. Jams is further disappointed, it seems like everyone has to be as fancy or showy as possible. Why wear comfortable clothes or dapper clothing when you can look fifty times more epic with a full black dress or freaking metal chains? Creativity in style seems limited, even the world of Omni.
Wait a second, how does Jams know what creativity was like where he was from? Upon asking himself this question, he realizes he has a very unusual case of selective amnesia. He knows what his personality and preferences are, but any memorial evidence of such draws a blank nearly as empty as this seemingly empty terrain. The only reason it isn't as empty to a point is because he remembers a couple of things. Ironically, one was that he infrequently wondered what it would be like to have amnesia, of all things. Strange that this specific memory was kept, but it's interesting nonetheless.
Unsure of what to do next, Jams begins to sit down and imagine a broom to use as a weapon, seeing as he remembers using one in battle out of convenience, mastery of something called a "Broomstyle," and because he liked whacking people upside the head with the bristled end of it. Before he does that, though, his iPod peculiarly switches to a song he is unfamiliar with; the title was "Fragrance of Dark Coffee," and it was a slow, smooth piece of jazz. It probably would work very well if he were actually in a cafe, sipping on a cup o' joe. Jams was sure he had never heard this, let alone put it in his iPod, but it made him feel much calmer and less anxious.
He takes advantage of this and heads over to the girl in the black dress. She seemed to be the one he knew least of all, comparatively. Jams could tell that the bleached, hotheaded fellow seemed to typically be as angry as Jams could have fun when it came to coming up with different ways of describing him in the same exact way. Vocabulary sure is fun. With the girl, though, her anger seemed situational at most, as she didn't seem like the kind of person who typically stayed happy. Because of this, Jams realized that her anger likely didn't really show off her true colors as a person, so he figured he'd talk to her and perhaps introduce the other fellow in the distance if and when he got over to the group.
As he walks, Jams notices the symbol on her dress is in the design of a swirl, almost like it was getting sucked into the center. Her glasses were ovular in design, with the top untouched by the rim. Her eyes were a sort of dark green, the kind that reminds Jams of healthy, long-lived ivy. She was about as tall with Jams, especially when he considered her ears, and her hair reached down to her back. The color of her hair was a sort of charcoal black, whereas her skin was something of a silvery-white.
He simply walks up to her calmly, the comfortable sound of the saxophone soothing his nerves, and he says "Hey, I'm Jams! A pleasure to meet you!" while holding his right hand up next to his head and quickly waving once, his index finger pointed toward the sky at an angle.
Whatever the conflict was here, it seemed to revolve around a particular pile of slime that the grey humanoid landed on. Jams does not even dare try to connect the dots further there. The conflict has been finished by now as the man walked away a minute ago, so investigation would be many times more complicated anyway. Instead, he looks toward deciphering a couple of clues about the hulking, ghastly creature that seemsalmost zombie-like in nature.
Most of the information Jams got about Grundy was from the one line "GRUNDY NOT LET YOU HURT FRIENDS," including the fact that his name was stated in that sentence. Jams was not sure why this line stood out, but it did, and it certainly helped him learn more about the group. For starters, this ghostly figure's name as Grundy and he seemed to be very protective of his friends based on his less-than-empty threats. In addition, his sentence structure depicts that he isn't the brightest of people. That's cool, Jams never judges people for things outside of their control, and Grundy's dedication to his pals seemed to more than make up for it.
As for that grey humanoid, he was accompanied by some creepy clown of a similar complexion with white face paint (or was it the other way around?), yet his horns were notably longer and sharper. Based on what the tired humanoid stated, it seems that he is unfamiliar to these people, and based on what he shouts at Grundy, it is implied that his eerie companion is titled Gamzee. "Hooray, context clues!", Jams declares in a moderate tone of voice. However, Jams is unfamiliar with "Faygo." Is it a soda? Jams wouldn't know for sure, he grew up on the off-brand Cory Cola.
Upon analyzing all the clues he remembered, Jams decides it's time to actually try and speak with someone. He notices someone in the distance and presumes that they are also new to the Canvas, as they appear to be simply standing place with a book in their hand, probably attempting to make sense of the situation. They aren't blinded, though, which disappoints Jams considering the comedic suffering he endured after Omni's lecture. They seem to wear a dark-green hoodie or something similar to a hooded robe. Jams is further disappointed, it seems like everyone has to be as fancy or showy as possible. Why wear comfortable clothes or dapper clothing when you can look fifty times more epic with a full black dress or freaking metal chains? Creativity in style seems limited, even the world of Omni.
Wait a second, how does Jams know what creativity was like where he was from? Upon asking himself this question, he realizes he has a very unusual case of selective amnesia. He knows what his personality and preferences are, but any memorial evidence of such draws a blank nearly as empty as this seemingly empty terrain. The only reason it isn't as empty to a point is because he remembers a couple of things. Ironically, one was that he infrequently wondered what it would be like to have amnesia, of all things. Strange that this specific memory was kept, but it's interesting nonetheless.
Unsure of what to do next, Jams begins to sit down and imagine a broom to use as a weapon, seeing as he remembers using one in battle out of convenience, mastery of something called a "Broomstyle," and because he liked whacking people upside the head with the bristled end of it. Before he does that, though, his iPod peculiarly switches to a song he is unfamiliar with; the title was "Fragrance of Dark Coffee," and it was a slow, smooth piece of jazz. It probably would work very well if he were actually in a cafe, sipping on a cup o' joe. Jams was sure he had never heard this, let alone put it in his iPod, but it made him feel much calmer and less anxious.
He takes advantage of this and heads over to the girl in the black dress. She seemed to be the one he knew least of all, comparatively. Jams could tell that the bleached, hotheaded fellow seemed to typically be as angry as Jams could have fun when it came to coming up with different ways of describing him in the same exact way. Vocabulary sure is fun. With the girl, though, her anger seemed situational at most, as she didn't seem like the kind of person who typically stayed happy. Because of this, Jams realized that her anger likely didn't really show off her true colors as a person, so he figured he'd talk to her and perhaps introduce the other fellow in the distance if and when he got over to the group.
As he walks, Jams notices the symbol on her dress is in the design of a swirl, almost like it was getting sucked into the center. Her glasses were ovular in design, with the top untouched by the rim. Her eyes were a sort of dark green, the kind that reminds Jams of healthy, long-lived ivy. She was about as tall with Jams, especially when he considered her ears, and her hair reached down to her back. The color of her hair was a sort of charcoal black, whereas her skin was something of a silvery-white.
He simply walks up to her calmly, the comfortable sound of the saxophone soothing his nerves, and he says "Hey, I'm Jams! A pleasure to meet you!" while holding his right hand up next to his head and quickly waving once, his index finger pointed toward the sky at an angle.
Death Count: 0
Banish Count: 0
Banish Count: 0