Several hours after the events of “Alone in the Dark”
Sitting cross-legged on his room’s enormous bed, Avery downed the can of Red Bull in a single pull, then set it on his nightstand to join the growing legion of empties already there. Part of him wondered why he bothered; with the changes to his metabolism wrought by his newly-awakened ichor, the energy drinks probably wouldn’t wake him up any more than the all-nighter he was pulling would wear him out. Habit, I suppose.
He was on his laptop tonight. As amazing as the iPtah was, CAD work demanded a larger screen; the darkened room, lit only by his monitor and a single candle on the dresser—he’d been practicing earlier—made things hard enough as it was. Still, The Little Tablet That Could was lending a hand, plugged into the stereo’s line-in and playing random selections from his “I Need To Brain, Damnit” playlist—Holland’s “Conference Of The Birds” at the moment.
Still coming to terms with a late growth spurt, Avery looks every bit the awkward, slightly nerdy freshman he is. He is fairly tall and thin (5’9”, 140 lbs) and looks taller and thinner still thanks to his unusually long, spindly arms and legs–his most visible resemblance to his divine parent. He has little muscle definition to speak of and looks somewhat frail, but is in surprisingly good physical condition. His long, unruly ash brown hair spills to just past his shoulders, with bangs that would fall in front of his sharp brown eyes but for the black, somewhat battered-looking welding goggles he usually keeps perched on his forehead. He boasts a longish, oval-shaped face, a rounded nose just a hair too large for it, soft facial features, a sincere, guileless smile, and an inexplicable near-absence of facial hair. The latter, combined with his long hair (grown out to cover his unusually large ears) has led people to misidentify his gender, to his annoyance.
Until recently, his style of dress was an afterthought at best: he would simply throw on whatever t-shirt and jeans were closest to hand and passed the “sniff” test. While he still occasionally leans in this direction, especially while distracted by something he’s researching or building (old habits die hard), since his Visitation he’s made some effort, within his limited means, to upgrade his wardrobe. As a concession to his newly acquired throwing daggers, he’s taken to wearing long-sleeved dress shirts, usually untucked. One thing he refuses to part with, makeover be damned, is his “bat-belt”, a black tactical web belt that he bought to hold his cellphone, multi-tool, voltage tester, folding pliers, mini-screwdriver set, and the myriad other tools that he uses on a regular basis. Anything that won’t fit on the belt (like his iPad, notebook, and so on) goes into a much-abused black Timbuk2 messenger bag, decorated with a University of Southern California patch and several Button Men game pins.