Mistaken Identity (invite only)

TRISTAN "BOSTON" RYDER

“I'm not a girl and I'm not a witch!"

[style=width: 360; height: 300; font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; text-align: justify; color: #fff; line-height: 110%; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; border: #c6a90c 2px dotted;]
Tristan traveled from his hometown of Boston to Salem. Although the rain came and went, pounding against him and his pony, Dash, he continued forward. The reason for this trek was simple. He wanted to see his good friend Salem to just talk to and play fun games with. Tristan felt so alone in Boston since no one came to visit him and he only knew Salem and currently his friend had problems with witch trials just like Tristan. It wasn’t something like a human young child could grasp and although Tristan looked no older than six years old, but he already seen his share of trouble and outlived his psychical appearance. He wanted to play some games with Salem, but he also wanted to talk about these weird trials that took place and how the humans were acting very strange by pointing fingers at people for being a witch, mostly woman. Tristan knew that nothing could be done between them since they just looked like a couple of children, but maybe they could just talk it out and figure out how to best handle themselves while the humans in their cities went hysterical with fear of witches.

He already gave Dash to a stable willing to house him for the time being. The man thought it was odd that a boy his age didn’t have his parents accompany him, but he shrugged it off and allowed the boy to pay for the housing. Last time Tristan was here Salem never had a stable and would often use this very one. Tristan knew how to get to Salem’s home, but didn’t know which distraction to take. There were a lot of different ways there and all of them were long. None he recalled were a short cut, although each were shorter than the next. He figured taking the fastest way there would be the best. After all it would probably be for the best since this weather wasn’t looking too good.

Tristan noticed how dark the sky was in the middle of the day and how gray the clouds were. He glanced up at the sky, knowing it would be a matter of time before those clouds gave way to rain and might even have some thunder and lightening too by the way they looked. It wasn’t more than a couple minutes when Tristan stepped further into the city of Salem that a flash of lightening followed by a roar of thunder. A few people stopped, but started walking again when the rain started pouring down, ducking for any possible cover. Tristan looked around for any cover, but he knew the closest inn was more of a walk and the only places around here were shops that he really didn’t want to walk in and cause any more attention then he already did walking down the streets.

Even though it was a bad idea Tristan decided to dash down the street, hoping to take the fastest way to Salem’s house. For just a moment he glanced up at the sky, a couple raindrops hit his cheeks and dripped down his face. It was only a moment, but that moment he bumped into someone which knocked him to the ground. He grunted as he was pushed backwards on his bottom. When he looked up to see who knocked him over he saw a child around his age. He narrowed his eyes and stood up, his bottom wet from the ground. “Watch where ya goin’!” He shook his fist at him. “Watch it next time.” Tristan grumbled. “I would beat ya up, but…gotta be somewhere more important.”

------------
TIMESTAMP: February 20th, 1692
TAG: Alfred + invite only (just in case we want to add people)
SUMMARY: After traveling to see his good friend Salem, Tristan runs into Alfred instead in a first time meeting. Later he’s then accused of being a witch when he shows an impossible feat to the townspeople where he heals faster than a normal human leading them to believe he preformed witchcraft.
NOTES: I hope you don’t mind the way they meet. I think bumping into each other, literally, would be a great way to meet up lol. XD

Alfred, too, decided to do a bit of traveling. Being what he was, it was not unheard of for him to take various trips during the day. He doubted the servants at the house realized just how far Alfred ventured on these trips, owing to the fact that most of them did not realize that he was no ordinary little boy.

Though there was the occasional hint here or there.

For one, no matter how far Alfred ventured, he never did seem to get lost. There was one instance where it was getting close to the time Alfred was supposed to come in for supper, and said child was nowhere to be seen. The servants looked everywhere on the property, knowing that Mister Kirkland would not be pleased if they lost his charge. It was Abigail Smith who found Alfred sitting against a tree a few miles off of the property, looking not in the least bit concerned.

"Oh Alfred, let's get you back home. You must have been so frightened, being lost!"

Alfred simply blinked back in confusion. "Lost? I'm not lost. I can't forget the back of my hand."

It was Abigail's turn to look confused. "The back of your hand? Whatever does that have to do with this?"

"Miss Abigail, you can't forget the back of your hand, right? You look at it all the time, it's a part of you. I can't get lost because it would be like forgetting the back of my hand." From there, Alfred rose to his feet and started back off toward the house, in what Abigail knew was the correct direction. How the little boy just knew where to go, despite all evidence to the contrary, was beyond her, but that was just one of many instances where servants received the slightest hint that there was more there than what first appeared with Alfred.

Coming soon