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Found 88 results

  1. It had already been more than three weeks since Regalia, running out of resources on her own, went in search of those who might aid her in the search for her lost comrades. As such, she had formed a hodgepodge group of people, the only ones who would even do so much as to humor and join her. Whether for their own goals or not, Regalia didn't care if they were in the group to benefit themselves, or just kill time. Any help was welcomed as long as it brought her closer to her goal. Standing at the edge of a cliff which had they'd been directed to before leaving town, Regalia sighed. She looked about from the vantage point and knew very well there was nothing even remotely close to the Synth in this densely mountainous terrain. One male human, one female healer, and one obligatory man in robs that no one in the group was quite sure about. He didn't say much, aside from the occasional quip for laughs, usually for his own amusement and more than just occasionally. It was just about the only thing he did. With his hooded robe, and a half-face mask, the man was quite the mystery. Any attempt to speak of himself was quickly, and rather skillfully side stepped, though sometimes obvious. Regalia saw through it, but eventually stopped inquiring. It wasn't worth the time doing it herself anymore, especially when the other two prodded enough as it was. Still, the man didn't let on anything, save that his name was Tayel. He claimed to know the lay of the land quite well and, despite his rather shady personage, he was true to his word. Their trip to the peaks of the canyons were made much easier by his keen knowledge. Regalia finally stepped away from the edge, brushing her long silver hair back from where the wind had blown, and sat on a large boulder. Her voice, the resonant lilt softened by the wind, rang out on the harsh terrain as she spoke to her current companions. "Well, I don't believe we will find anything useful here. as far as I can tell, there wouldn't be any way to safely traverse this area even if we there was. That aside, I believe that the other side of these mountains is occupied by the demons. It wouldn't be a fantastic experience running into them during a search," she said, straightening the nomadic cloak idly. "It'd be something all right, having an encounter with them. But hey! If you wanna turn back here, we can always take a trip to Raxtin rather than going to Phaim. This mountain range is the dividing border after all," Tayel said, using his hands as he spoke to hid his knowledge that demons lived close by there as well. Regalia considered this. The names of countries and continents were all new to her, and even if she could see an old map of the area, she probably wouldn't be able to make any kind of real correlation because of the drastic changes. She looked over to the other two and asked, "What do you think? I've no problems if it leads me closer, but you might have conflicting thoughts about going out of the country." (Sorry about the obvious exposition. I didn't work very hard to cover it up or progress the story. Still figuring things out really.)
  2. I bought a car for $500

    Somewhere, in an urban neighborhood the birds are chirping, old Nikes are swaying from their laces on a wire. A sound system thud-thud-thuds in the distance. Seth just got his tax return and rode his bike across town to pick up a 1985 Ford LTD from a Craigslist seller. 1985 ford crown vic ltd 4 sell.....needs work....runs blue wit blue interior, stereo gone..... xtra tires in trunk, fullszie spare $500 cash only!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! no idiots!!!!!!!!!!! It wasn't quite like the Interceptor he drove in college but as a car built on a platform which hadn't changed since the 70's, it was close enough, and $500 was a fair price to buy it, have some fun with it, and take it to the scrap yard. When he reached the approximate location of the car, he pulled his bike off onto the sidewalk and straddled it as he pulled out his cell phone and called the seller. Seller: "Uh, hello" Seth: "Hi. I messaged you about the LTD for $500..." Seller: "Okay, yea' I still got it" Seth: "Good. I am currently at...Murray and 24th and there's, like, a pizza shop with a beer distributor in the same building. Where do I need to go?" Seller: "Umm you're gonna go down Murray two blocks, then go left up the hill to Arbor Street. I'm in a tan house with a fence after the first stop sign." Seth: "That sounds easy enough, I'll call if I get lost but yep...be there in 10 or so." Seller: "Yah ok man, sounds good." Seth located the Craigslist Seller's house based on the directions. He chained his bike to a signpost and peeked down the house's driveway to see something resembling the alleged card in a patch of tall grass. Before he walked up to the door to knock, the assumed Craigslist Seller walked out and greeted 'Ay man, you here for the car?" "Yea, let's see it!" Seth replied, barely able to contain his excitement. They walked down the driveway to the patch of tall grass where the car was parked. The Seller opened a door for Seth and pointed out various features: ash tray, the missing stereo, the location of the truck release; then they looked at the retreads contained in the trunk. "Can I try starting it?" Seth asked. "Sure, man," The Seller replied and handed Seth the key. Seth entered the car and turned the key, surprised the car started right up. After further inspection, he found the car suitable and purchased it from The Seller, who seemed happy to get the car off his property and get some money in the process. Seth threw his bike haphazardly in the back seat and drove the car out of the driveway. Seth doesn't always stop at every stop sign, but when he does, it's when he's driving a car with no insurance or registration. It was only across town on a Sunday...what could go wrong? ((Anyone is free to jump in with any type of character. This is a realistic RP, can possibly include sex, yaoi-friendly. No anime/cartoon pictures.))
  3. Plot: Your character(s) and Emily Darrell are exploring the rumored location of an extraterrestrial artifact supposedly discovered and worshipped by an indigenous tribe. According to sparse legends and anecdotes, the artifact granted the tribe's leaders them a far-advanced knowledge of technology, enabling them to plan advanced structures, predict the weather, and heal sickness. However, the tribe is described as having went extinct for unknown reasons and practically nothing about them is known, to the extent that the most prominent historians and archaeologists consider the legends surrounding the tribe to be complete falsehood. The theory of the "lost tribe" and their artifact is supported by the existence of a small lake - a "pond" much deeper than it appears - with radioactivity and unique cyanobacteria believed to have originated from an asteroid strike. Additionally, two interesting artifacts were recovered from the Pacific ocean: a stone tablet with etchings filled with gold, and a solid-gold tablet with uniform circular cut-outs. Both items are rumored to be parts from an ancient computer - a bus and punch card of sorts - estimated to have originated from the coast of Alaska. Coincidentally, the artifacts were reportedly lost at sea off the coast of New Zealand (conveniently in proximity to the Bougainville Trench...), en-route to an Australian lab to be carbon-dated, and were not known to be recovered. Setting: Alaskan Aleutian Islands, present day. Temps are in the mid 40s and there is rain this time of year. RP Expectation: I'm aiming for a Tomb Raider/X-Files level of realism, which can still include a lot of Sci-Fi elements. Ideally, we can post every 1-3 days, and I'd prefer a few short paragraphs or a single large paragraph. The rolling and pitching of the small ship made sleeping easy for Emily. For the others? Their mileage may vary...Hopefully, though, they were well-rested as they had a long day ahead of them. Emily was awakened by the vibration of her phone between the mattress and bunk frame and though the ship's interior was cold and dark, she didn't delay quietly getting out of the bed. The tiniest amount of moonlight shown through the porthole so the room wasn't completely black and she didn't bother with a flashlight. Being the prepared person she was, she had laid her clothing out the evening before and was able to dress in the almost-dark except her shoes. For now, she could scuff around the ship in her slippers. The hinges of the door of the sleeping quarters made a shrill squeal as she opened it - she forgot it did that - but on her way out, toiletry bag and a journal in-hand, she wore a determined knitted brow as she closed it as slowly and softly as possible. After she brushed her teeth, tossed a few handfuls of nearly-freezing water on her face, and threw her hair back into a ponytail, she went to the galley to prepare a bowl of oatmeal - unsweetened, save a handful of berries - and eat it while studying maps and the day's itinerary with the ceiling lamp swaying gently overhead. It wasn't often Emily took off on a "flight of fancy" trip based on info that was practically a possible hoax. Practically every surface feature of every inch of the earth had been mapped with a satellite, so she was skeptical that they would find any ruins or "lost"-anything. She would consider the trip a success if even a fragment of the lost tribe's civilization were recovered. At the very worst, it was a sight-seeing voyage. It was difficult enough finding someone who would drive their small ship to the location. Local fishermen weren't as critical of her motives as she expected the scientific and archaeological communities to be, but many questioned her and suggested she was just a silly girl for wanting to do such a thing. Today, they were going to hike toward the pond for five miles, then set up a base camp and begin surveying for possible places to dig. The forecast reported damp, rainy weather, which tended to make the cool temperature soak in even more; Emily advised everyone to bring wool, wool, and more wool to stay warm. The boat was returning in a week and nobody should get frostbite during that time. Until then, they were on the island with no cell coverage and very spotty radio, but everyone would have a two-way radio. EDIT: The types of characters I'm looking for this RP are pretty open, but some tropes might be adventurer, action-geek, I'm-just-an-intern, stubborn skeptic, conspiracy theorist, or a poseur survivalist. If you're interested in it but need additional information PM me and I can add it. I'm sort of new at creating new RPs so I'm probably missing things.
  4. Chaotic Ripples

    (( At the moment I am currently looking for people to join this roleplay I am forming known as "Chaotic Ripples". Chaotic Ripples is about people who have these artifacts known as Ripples which cause them to gain certain abilities and powers but at a price. And during this era where Ripples are becoming widespread, being either artificially created or ancient Ripples being found. So, thus during this Ripple Rush your character encounters friends and foes alike trying to either make sure the Ripples are in the right hands, being used to their potential or just going completely mad with power using them. Also, before we start, I want to make a character posting page so that I know who is joining the roleplay.)) (( My personal rules for this roleplay include: No character deaths unless you speak with someone and they are ok with it.Explicit romance should be done off screen or in a PM somewhereDon't throw a fit if your character loses a battle against someoneMake sure you have funThere are tons of Ripples out there, be creative!)) (( So we will hopefully begin once people start posting in here asking to join or joining, thank you! ))
  5. The first rays of dawn spread across The Seer. The sound of waves crashing against her, day and night, never quite faded to the back of the mind, but the inexperienced crew found themselves getting used to it. Most were asleep below deck, leaving only a few to see to the ship's operation: the navigator squinted through the morning sun, a few riggers sat dozing while they awaited orders, and Corine Selwyn climbed to the crow's nest. She leaned against the guard rail and wiped a calloused hand against her brow. The chill of morning did little to cool her from the night's work. It had been her duty to board up leaks, check the integrity of the sails, direct the riggers, make sure the riggers didn't fall, and continually write reports that crewmen lacked the knowledge to write themselves. Still, she smiled as she looked to the horizon; the journey would soon be over, and then the real job would begin. She decided to give the ship one quick, final look over before getting some sleep. She closed her eyes, knelt down and placed both hands palm-down on the boards of the crow's nest. Starting with the bow and working back, she felt with her mind for any areas in need of repair. From her perspective, the world was hazy, colors lacked definition, and she could feel each creaking board and wave against the hull. Finding nothing out of place from her last inspection, she stood and opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought she imagined it. She blinked and held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. There was no mistaking what she saw in the distance; they must have been further ahead of schedule than she thought. A grin crossed her face. “Land ho!†she shouted.
  6. NC-17 Taken

    Taken (Continued) Crystal strained herself to sit up straight and glanced at her body, realizing only now that she’d fallen asleep in full battle armor. For the first time since the war had begun, Crystal smiled and even laughed just a little at how absurd they looked. “I guess you’re right. Maybe we should take a shower…â€Crystal paused, unsure of what Storm would think of that suggestion. He didn’t like water, even if it was her water. She’d also thought before that moment that she would be comfortable with it. After losing Storm though, she knew that he was the only one for her. She didn’t want to leave his side for even a moment right now either. She couldn’t help but feel a tightness in her chest at the thought that he was almost lost forever though, and it was only with deep breaths and self-control that she managed to hold back more tears.
  7. NC-17 Fandom Plots (MxF)

    Hello everyone, Celtic here! This is my first time posting a request thread here on this site and I'm hoping to find any detailed partners to write with. I consider myself semi-literate and I usually post two decent size paragraphs or more. Um, as the title states, I'm only interested in fandoms for now and I can play both Canons and OCs. My pairing preferences are as followed (YOU X ME): Canon x OC, Canon x Canon, and maybe OC x OC. Also just to give you guys a heads up, I'm not interested in any anime/manga, video-games, furries, and incest. Hmm, what else... I do love romance in all my plots/settings, but I do LOVE me some good ol' fashion action and adventure, too. Well, I believe that's it! If you like to know more about what I'm looking for in a partner or about me, feel free to stop by and drop me a PM. :) So to get this thing started, I already have some plots in mind: The Dark Knight Trilogy: Idea 1. My character is a new staff member and this is her first year working at Arkham Asylum and she is in charge of Dr. Jonathan Crane. During their time together, Crane starts to slowly manipulate her and manages to get my character to work for him. (We can add more to this plot.) Idea 2. My character is the youngest daughter of Jim Gordon and she's an detective who is on the hunt for Dr. Crane. Immediately when they come face to face for the first time, Crane is already obsessed with my character. She is then rescued by Batman (who returns after five years) and asks him if he could teach her how to fight crime like he does. (Again we can add more.) Enchanted: Idea 1. This follows the same basic story line from the film. Prince Edward goes to find Giselle, but meets an entirely different woman (my OC) and he falls in love with her. But this time he's stuck in New York and he can't go back to Andalasia, and so my character helps him make a living in the real world. Idea 2. My character is sort of like a ranger/huntsman and she is sent to New York by the evil queen to bring back Prince Edward and to kill Giselle instead of Nathaniel. (We can add more.) Ghost Adventures: The Ghost Adventures crew is investigating the abandoned Costello Grand Hotel in Manhattan, New York to investigate the claims of people seeing multiple apparitions, hearing voices, and possible demonic attacks and possessions. Upon arrival, the trio meets up with their client Susan Harrow a former maid who worked in the hotel back in the early seventies, and tells them the story of a young woman who was found brutally murdered in the main part of the theater of the hotel back in 1936. Nobody knows for sure, but some say it’s Lucy Costello; the daughter of the original owner and mob leader, Jack ‘Uncle Jack’ Costello. Wanting to further investigate the story of Lucy, Zak desperately tries to reach out to her and finds he’s in for a big surprise. One moment he’s in the back part of the theater searching for any signs of the young woman, the next he finds himself transported back to the year of 1936. Hairspray: Idea 1. My character is a twenty-two-year-old independent singer and songwriter who travels to Baltimore, Maryland. She comes across an old abandoned studio building that once aired the popular 6o's tv program: The Corny Collins Show. The next day, she wakes up and finds herself in the year of 1963. (I'm looking for someone to play Corny Collins for me.) Idea 2. My character is the oldest and quite ordinary sister of Amber Von Tussle who works with her mother on the set of the Corny Collins Show. She can't sing and can't dance, but she can paint! Her dream is to travel all over the world to study and paint abroad, but her mother won't have it; and so she's stuck being Amber's and her mother's assistant. The only person that truly makes her happy is Corny, but unfortunately he just sees her as a friend, until he meets my character's new boyfriend and he seems to be a little jealous for some reason. Indiana Jones: The year is 1940 and somebody has stolen the Crown Jewels and the MI5 are baffled. One day Dr. Jones receives a wire from the British Embassy stating the MI5 needs his help. Of course he has no interest in the case until one of their secret agents; a beautiful English woman meets Indy in person. She says he's the only one who can help them find the culprit since the thief left a hidden/coded message only Indy could decipher. The message is written in a dead language. Now he must travel to England with the stunning woman and help the agency before it's too late. Lord of the Rings: Idea 1. My character is a 28-year-old woman who works at the Smithsonian Institution and it's her first day on the job. She comes across a rather unique necklace that the curators still have not yet identified where it originally came from. The moment she touches it, she is transported into another world where fantasy-like creatures are real and dark forces are soon closing in. While exploring, she finds herself in a village called Meduseld and soon meets the handsome Rohirrim King. (This takes place a couple of years after the ring is destroyed and we can add more ideas to this.) Idea 2. My character is the younger daughter of Lord Elrond and decides against her father's wishes to live among Men. She travels to Edoras and soon becomes close friends with Eowyn and becomes the girl's lady-in-waiting. But the fair maiden's brother is not too thrilled of the idea of having an elf living under their roof. But in time he learns to soften up and starts falling in love with my character. Idea 3. My character is a beautiful Haradrim slave who is secretly being put up for auction at the Gondorian market. She is noticed by King Eomer who is out visiting Aragorn and decides to buy her and to set her free. But by law, she can only be free if someone speaks to the Haradrim leader and offers him riches. So now she is the King's slave and not too happy about it. (We can definitely add more to this plot.) The Notebook: Idea 1. My character has just graduated from Stanford University and travels to New York City to work at the New York Times as a journalist. She receives a strange letter (that explains a family inheritance she's never even heard of) at her new apartment from a man who claims to be her maternal grandfather, and asks her to travel to Charleston, South Carolina to meet him. She meets him at a local elderly home and he tells her of an historical plantation plot that was her mother's childhood home and puts the house under my character's name, since he's dying and he can't take care of it anymore. Curious, she checks out the old home and comes across an old photo album with a picture of two young handsome men in late 40's attire. She clearly recognizes that one of them is her grandfather, the other... she has no idea who except for the man's first two initials: L.H. She wakes up the next day and decides to check out who this L.H. guy was when something impossible happens-- Why are people dressed like they were from the 40's, and what happened to everything else? She starts to freak out when she meets the very man she was going to research on. Idea 2. My character and Lon Hammond were close childhood friends until they grew apart and went on with their separate lives; he went off to war and she became a teacher. After the war was officially over, they accidentally ran to each other in their hometown of Charleston, South Carolina; both of them happily engaged. My character had always been very fond of Lon and was (secretly) hoping he would come back in her life and sweep her off her feet. But it seemed to her that he only thought of her as a sister than a significant other. But when she found out about Lon and Allie were not together anymore, she decided the best way to be there for a friend is to comfort him. Star Trek (Abrams-verse): Idea 1. My character is the daughter of Captain Christopher Pike and she has just recently been enrolled to Starfleet Academy alongside Kirk and McCoy. The trio becomes fast friends and they do everything together. But unfortunately, my character has a major crush on Bones and she's too nervous and shy to make the first move and/or share her true feelings to him. Also like my character, Bones has a hard time sharing his feelings too. (We can add more to this, but basically is set before the first film.) Idea 2. My character wakes up from a deep hibernation sleep and she finds herself in the year/stardate 2259.24. She has no idea where she's at except she's in space and on a ship called the Enterprise. She has no memory of her past except the year she was born in and the year she fell into a deep sleep. Something happened all those years ago on Earth, and my character is the last remaining link to the past. (Basically Bones helps my character and starts having feelings for her. We can add more to this. This will take place after Into Darkness.) Idea 3. Again, my character is the daughter of Captain Pike. She, McCoy, and other science officers are beamed down on a planet when they are soon ambushed by a tribe of natives. The group gets separated and my character and Bones are lost in the forest. They need to somehow find their way back to their rendezvous point without the use of their communicators and phasers. During that time they develop an interest with each other. (Again, we can add more to this plot.) Idea 4. The Enterprise crew is on a diplomatic mission to please a rich aristocrat/prince and offers him to become an ally for the Federation, but unfortunately the mission goes wrong and the man takes and enslaves the most beautiful female crew members including my character; who is the younger daughter of Admiral Marcus. In order to free the females, a male must choose which woman to fight for. Bones has always liked my character and so he fights in her honor to save her. (This will take place after Into Darkness.) Superman/Returns: Idea 1. My character is Lois Lane's younger sister and she now works at the Daily Planet as a journalist. Ever since meeting Lois's fiance Richard White she's develop a huge crush, but she has always been the shy one. Now it seems she has a chance with him since Superman has returned and Lois ended her engagement. But she may never be with Richard when she gets herself caught and experimented on and now she's a freak with superpowers. Idea 2. My character is a beautiful Kryptonian and she has been taken in and brain-washed by Lex Luthor. Her main goal is to kill Superman. (Christopher Reeve or Brandon Routh. We can add more to this.) X-Men: (These are all Cyclops x OC related, but I'm willing to double. I will also like to point out that I will never play as Emma Frost or any other female canons with Scott Summers. But I will play as Jean Grey/OC against him.) Idea 1. It's almost time for the year-end exams and every year, one of the top students gets to be paired up with an X-Men in order to pass their two-part exam (a mock-up simulation and first mission). My character is the 18 year-old-daughter of Mystique and Sabertooth and she has just learned that she'll be mentored by Cyclops. During their time together, they start to develop an intense (love/hate) relationship while he's still with Jean. (Cinematic Universe) Idea 2. After the 'death' of Jean, Cyclops leaves the X-Mansion and goes rogue and comes across a 'hitchhiker' (my character), who he later finds out she's a mutant bounty hunter. She decides to tag along for the fun of it, when she later learns that she has been betrayed by her own father William Striker. And now she's a fugitive and teams up with Cyclops for justice. (Cinematic or 90's) Idea 3. My character is a doctor/nurse who is a spitting image of Jean. She comes across Scott laying off shore and decides to take him to the hospital where she works. After waking up from a coma, he has no memory of himself being a mutant and being part of the X-Men. And, he can see without the use of his visor/glasses. The two fall in love and he's finally happy, until he starts to remember... Now, he must decide if he should stay with my character or go back to the person he once was in order to protect to her. (Cinematic Universe) Idea 4. The teenage X-Men has finally graduated from high school and now teachers themselves along with my character. It's been great until Jean starts to change into becoming the Phoenix and she has vanished. She shows up a few months later and has sided with a powerful mutant who wants to destroy all human kind and mutants who defy him. And now it's up to the young X-Men to stop him and their beloved friend. (Evolution) Idea 5. A Powerful mutant has the power to time-travel and he sends Cyclops and my character or Jean Grey back to a time period (your choice) and they have to find a way to get back to their own time. (Shows or films) Idea 6. Project X has just created another wolverine-like clone (my character) and her orders are to terminate Wolverine and the others. Can a certain team leader get through to her or will she forever be a cold-blooded murderer? (Cinematic or Evolution) Idea 7. Cyclops and Wolverine volunteer to go back in time and to try to stop Mystique from assassinating Trask. The two men gets separated and Cyclops ends up finding my character who is also a mutant (and a undercover agent) and the two fall in love. He has to decide if he should stay behind or take her back to his own time. But it will come with some severe consequences. (This will take place during DoFP and that Cyclops never died in Last Stand)
  8. "Come on Pete, just let me read it," she pleaded. "Just relax Sam, it'll be finished soon," he responded quietly, pen poised upon his lips. She shook her head at him but a faint smile played across her features as she ran a hand over the small bulge in her stomach. "Have you thought of any names yet?" He scribbled a few words upon the notebook and responded with a shake of his head, framed eyes stealing a glance at the tiny baby bump his wife was massaging. "I'll give it some thought," he offered lightly, before returning to his own little world. Samantha ran her fingers through his hair and reclined her head upon a pillow, still smiling at the prospect of motherhood. ----- Peter lifted his head from the pillow, fingers blindly scrambling upon the bedside table in search of his glasses; finally seizing them, he hastily donned them and clicked his lamp on. With a quick glance at his watch, he shuffled out of bed and began murmuring to himself as he strode across the mostly darkened bedroom, pale moonlight failing to penetrate the many windows that adorned the walls. Down the hallway he roamed, his hands gesturing at the invisible ideas flowing from his lips; on cue, his right hand found a brass doorknob, and he lifted the slightly tilted door upward to prevent it from squeaking as he opened it. He peeked inside of his daughter's room, which was awash in a soft pink glow emitted from a night light; he monitored her for a moment, watching her chest and the teddy bear she clutched to it in her sleep rise and fall without effort. Sophie is safe Peter, now get to the typewriter. He closed the door with a cautiously slow deliberance before proceeding further down the hallway, eyes on his watch once again. His bare feet met the familiar cool metal of a slender spiral staircase, the muscle memory of the repetitive action kicking in; within moments, he found himself within his office, a spacious third floor of the house that housed his writing materials and more importantly, his creative space. "Ok, 3:23 in the morning," he mumbled softly as he approached his desk. His slender fingers were punching keys upon the typewriter before he had seated himself, or even had turned the desk lamp on; he eventually treated himself to the lamp's light after fifteen minutes of writing, and only because he had stopped to remove his cumbersome watch. His new novel was, sadly, coming along at a snail's pace; Peter was plagued by a nasty case of writer's block, but only because the characters of the story just weren't cooperating with him. His male lead, for example, refused to translate onto paper the way he visualized him inside his mind, which was infinitely frustrating. "Come on Michael," he uttered platonically, his fingers flying across the well-worn keys. It was going to be a long night. ----- The mug of forgotten coffee had long ago turned stone cold, but Peter was far too gone to even realize the rising sun eagerly awaiting his attention. He massaged his stubble and peered up at the ceiling, his fingertips aching; he hadn't accomplished much and that was a disappointing omen. His middle of the night writing sessions had proved fruitful for many years, but lately, they had caused him more frustration than anything. But why? His head tilted and the dull gleam of sunlight filtering in through the window behind him reflected off his wedding ring, catching his sore eyes. He studied the ring for a few moments, the symbolism not lost upon him; even though he was extremely tired, he could easily recognize the connection between the ring and his faltering storytelling ability. Somewhere outside, he heard birds chirping, their announcement of a new day causing him to flip over the watch on his desk. It read 6:26. Sophie will be awake soon and you need to get breakfast ready--it's a school day, after all. Heeding his mind's advice, he stood to his feet and scooped up the watch before switching off the lamp, leaving behind his workspace of turmoil in search of a more positive environment. ----- One of Peter's hidden talents was his ability to cook, and exceptionally well at that; it was a very therapeutic procedure for him, and sometimes Sophie would help him out in the kitchen. On most nights, he would let her choose what they would eat for dinner and he would set out to make sure the food knocked her socks off; he had gotten pretty good at it too, because she was even eating her vegetables now, which was a milestone victory in any parent's life. On this particular morning, he was putting together sausages, eggs and cheese on English muffins with silver dollar sized blueberry pancakes; he surprisingly found that he was ravenous this morning, which was uncharacteristic of him, seeing as how he wasn't a breakfast man. He set the table with care, plates and silverware for them both, though their beverages differed at orange juice for her, slightly-nauseating-reheated-burnt coffee for him. Peter patted his hands dry on his pajama pants and walked briskly over to the intercom; he had a system installed throughout the house, mostly because Sophie was sometimes afraid to venture to his room or office when she woke up in the middle of the night--the intercom eliminated that problem. "Sophie," he called through the intercom, hearing his own voice within her room up on the second floor, "time to wake up sleepyhead."
  9. Is Anyone Free

    A tiny huff escaped past a pair of pale pink petite lips as the young woman attempted to blow her bangs out of her face. Brilliantly violet eyes scanned the horizon, looking over everything that was under her care. The lush meadows to the east dotted with farms and little shops, down south the glittering teal of the ocean, with its glorious ships housed safely, within her northern castle walls her loyal people who place all their faith in her to protect them. With a saddened glance to the west she was reminded of what she has lost. The sky hung bleak and grey, the ground barren and terror clung to every soul that remained there. It was the darkest corner of Acacia Averil Aumen-Antare and it was because of Princess Anistalia Alyna Avenci that this area has fallen to darkness. She was naïve, young, and thought that he truly interested in helping her and ruling with her but alas it was not their destiny to rule side by side but rather to face one another in opposition. His name was Oncyrus Malmor, and he was determined to take all that he could from her. She could not bear the idea of allowing him to rule her lands; could not stand the horrors that he would bring in his wake. His power was a dark one and hers a light but it would seem that in this desperate time for need she would have to do the unthinkable. Her thoughts were disrupted by the abrupt knock at the door. Her voice echoed in the grand room as she commanded the guard to enter. “Your Highness, I have brought the exiled as you have requested. He brings a bag yet has refused to be searched. Shall we…†Raising a fair hand she silenced him. “That will not be necessary. I am aware of what he brings and I am the only one who needs to know.†The high Guard opened his mouth to speak but she spoke over him. “Do not question my decision. My mind has been made.†Turning slowly to face him, she held her head high yet her voice gave away her true emotion behind her façade. “I need for you not to fear, my people need strength while I am gone and who is to give them that in my absence. The guard nodded in understanding. “Remember no one is to know my true intentions, the people are to believe that I am traveling overseas to locate assistance. Until I return the exiled is to remain within the castle walls, locked at all times. Now bring him in.†The guard left for but a moment and returned with an elderly man. He grasped at the head of his staff, avoiding looking Anistalia in the eyes, his face sunken in giving him a ghostly appearance. His voice was dry when he spoke but none the less still clear. “Princess, how wonderful to see you. You look more like your mother every day. However you seem to have inherited a few of your father’s traits. You have his eyes; you also have the mark of a gift. A very strong one at that. The king would have been proud.†Anistalia covered the starburst birthmark that hid just behind her left ear. “You know as well as I do the king was far from proud, this same mark is the reason you were exiled. How could he live happily knowing that the child he called his was the great mage’s daughter? He tried so hard to deny it, named me after his mother. Went as far as to create the royal markings on my wrist.†She glanced down at the three stars that had been burned on to her skin as a babe.†All that was left was to remove the great mage from the picture. Mother begged for your life to be spared, putting her life in danger to save that of her child’s father. For nineteen years I had believed the king was my father only to find out it was you.†The old man removed the cloak he had been wearing to reveal his own pair of bright violet eyes in shock. Anistalia’s eyes lowered to the ground. “Mother told me on her death bed years ago. But it is in the past. I need your help, and I am glad you have agreed. I can’t help but feel you are only doing it out of guilt but regardless when I return we will have time to discuss at length. I need to go now. Have you brought everything?†The mage came out of his surprised stupor and nodded. “You know that this particular spell is forbidden correct?†Anistalia smirked. “Then who better to trust than an exiled mage and my father to keep the secret?†The mage threw up his hands in defeat and started pulling items out of the sack. “Alright we have the dragon’s fang, stands of elvish hair, snake poison and an infant’s heart…†Anistalia spun around quickly to face the old man. “I beg your pardon, an infant’s what?†He placed the items to form a circle not even looking her way when he responded. “I told you the spell is forbidden; now if you plan of proceeding with this I need you to recite the incantation with me.†Anistalia simply grit her teeth and took the parchment from him, staring down at the words. There on the parchment was an old language scrawled in horrid penmanship, it was actually quite difficult to make out the words. Taking a deep breath to calm herself Anistalia began to mutter the words as she saw them, tripping over her tongue in attempts to properly say the words. Within the circle the mage had placed out the ground began to warp and illuminate before her very eyes. She could hardly believe what she saw. A completely different world shimmered from the ground. The old man’s voice penetrated past her awe. “You only have a few days to find help. Another portal will open allowing you to return. But be warned, if you miss that time frame you will be trapped until you can open a new one. Do you understand?†Anistalia rolled up the spell and tucked it under the layers of her dress, determination glowing in her eyes. Without a word she took the plunge, colors swirling around in a frightening manner. She didn’t expect the trip to be so short but the heavy thud that she landed with made it more than apparent that she had arrived. Looking around fear gripped at her soul. Where exactly had she arrived to, when to be more correct. The vast amount of trees she had grown accustomed to seeing had been removed and what lay before her was a rather bustling town with all sorts of sounds and smells she had never encountered. Brushing the dirt of her full pale silver gown, Anistalia pulled her bouncing blond hair away from her face and made her way into the town. The sight she was greeted with was more than she expected. People rushed passed without as much as a glance. Did they not know or care as to who she was? Looks like she was going to have to gain someone’s attention. She spent a few minutes trying to speak to any of the people that passed her but no one stopped. Accepting defeat Anistalia made her way to a building that looked familiar. It was a small inn but it would have to do. “Pardon me; I’d like your best room please. One with a view of the water preferably.†She placed a coin on the counter and waited for the key, however what she got in response was the attendant shouting at her for thinking they were fools to accept counterfeit payment. After moments of heated argument Anistalia had had enough and stormed out of the building. Fed up with not knowing anything she finally decided to just speak with the royals, all that was necessary was to locate them. Finally getting the attention of a passerby, Anistalia tried to speak without her anxiety getting to her. “I beg your pardon I am Princess Anistalia Alyna Avenci of Acacia Averil Aumen-Antare. Could you possibly lead me to the castle for this kingdom? It is imperative that I speak with the royals.â€
  10. How much for a sword?

    A small village is under threat by a group of bandits, they extort, kidnap, rape and steal. Tired of the continuous harassment they seek outside help to save them, but without treasure of any kind what sort of mercenary can they hire? Hungry ones! I am interested in a low-fantasy medieval RP: less magic, more grumbling. Develop down-on-your-luck mercenaries or down-trodden villagers. Whatever might fit into the story. I think 4 participants would be ideal. I'll release some more background stuff once I think it up.
  11. And so is the Golden City blackenedWith each step you take in my Hall.Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.You have brought Sin to HeavenAnd doom upon all the world. They say that it's our fault, that it's because of us these monsters have appeared. It seems like everywhere you go, the peasants and slaves have renewed boldness, spitting and cursing our presence regardless of consequences. They threaten to rebel, emboldened by their preoccupied masters' lack of focus--already Emerius has shed blood in its streets, quieting the protests. But with its leadership in disarray, too preoccupied with rumors of a weakening Archon, a new prospect of power, the commonfolk will not stay quiet. The Imperium is already weak, this endless century-long war having weathered the foundations on which we once stood. You'd think that those responsible for upholding our grand kingdom would take more action to put an end to this 'Blight', but instead the fools sit and squabble amongst themselves, playing their hands conservatively to protect their holds and properties. Some even incite more carnage, using the blood that has been spilled to fuel their snatches at more power. Thedas is already going to hell in a handbasket--who can get dragged down with the most to their name? Idiots, all of them. It doesn't matter who did what or why, all that matters is these . . . darkspawn must be stopped. Horrifying, vile creatures that taint everything they touch--even dragons! For the past one hundred years, one High Dragon, twisted and terrifying, has been seen . . . rallying these monsters, like a leader of some kind. Some people think that it is one of our beloved Gods, tainted to reveal His true nature by humanity's sins. I doubt that, and it doesn't really make a damned difference anyway, does it? Nor will we, as long as people expect the magisters to do something. The world is crumbling, the Imperium is falling apart, and all anyone can seem to do is curl up in a corner and cower. Even the stout and valorous dwarves of Kal-Sharok have withdrawn--although that's hardly their fault, since these creatures supposedly came from underground. Minrathous still stands, at least, but that's hardly saying anything, given it won't stand for much longer if this continues. Sure, we've managed some victories, kept some cities and outposts from being utterly ransacked, but the people are changed. Some wind up tainted, perhaps as an effect of the darkspawn as the rumors go, and become ghoulish and mad--leaving someone the sad choice of putting the miserable creature down. No more. This Blight--as people have been calling it--must be stopped. Gods, dragons, magic, Fade, demons--whatever the source does not truly matter, and speculation and blame do not stop the fact that it is a disease that is destroying us. I will no longer wait for others to take action--it's high time someone took matters into their own hands, and that someone may as well be me. Moral Grey It's been almost a century since the Blight began, marked by the rise of a twisted Dragon people have taken to calling an Archdemon, and the world has slowly fallen into chaos as creatures known as the darkspawn ravage the lands. No one's certain where the darkspawn came from or what this 'Archdemon' really is, or even how to destroy them, for while the darkspawn fall easily enough to metal and magic, the Archdemon seems nigh immortal. With an immortal creature leading a horde apparently set on destroying Thedas, the people are thrown into a panic, and at the heart of the chaos is the Tevinter Imperium. Once a powerful kingdom ruled by blood magic that stood upon the backs of elvhen slaves, the Archdemon and its monstrous army are no doubt herald of its impending fall. Not only do slaves and peasants rebel as the darkspawn lay siege to the Imperium, the Imperium also suffers from within as magisters threaten civil war. Some wish to topple their incompetent Archon and claim the rule for themselves, others use the chaos to further their own agendas and try to 'settle' old disputes, and the rest who pledge their forces to fight the darkspawn are simply too few. But to the east, in the port-city of Qarinus where the darkspawn assaults are fewer, rumors of a strange woman looking for aid circulate. The past several weeks, as the locals will tell you, she has been going around, asking for volunteers to aid her in defeating the Blight. She claims to know a way to put a stop to it, and demands only that those who would help her be strong in their convictions. Be they slaves, Soporati, Laetans, even rebels--she calls for aid from all. But does she really know how to stop the Blight? And how can one small group possibly hope to change the world? ------------ Setting: The Tevinter Imperium, approx. -302TE (fall) Regions include Seheron, Anderfels, Antiva, and Tevinter Map of Thedas (large file) Races: Humans, elves, dwarves All classes and most specializations are permissible Elf-blooded are fairly common, though frowned upon. Dwarf-blooded are rarer, but not unheard of. Dwarves are also more virile than in Origins. Kossith not yet discovered--had one settlement in the Korcari Wilds before being wiped out during the Blight. Alamarri, Clayne, Chasind, and Avvar tribes exist Worship of the Old Gods is in rapid decline, and practitioners are met with mixed reactions. Chantry has not yet been founded, and thus templars do not exist. Circles do, though. Elves have no claim to the Dales and thus there are no Dalish elves, meaning there are no Keepers. However, renegade elves free from slavery do exist Blood magic is prevalent almost everywhere. Most, if not all mages, at least know the basics. Reavers are also fairly common. Somniari exist, albeit still rare. Their association with Archon Thalsian and thus the Old Gods have increased hostility towards them, in some cases even resulting in purging. Most, though not all thaigs have fallen. Kal-Sharok maintains minimal contact with the surface. Legion of the Dead is not yet founded. This is an idea I've had in my head for awhile now, and that I've been dying to play out. I originally intended to play it out as a story for the tabletop DA game, but I couldn't get my hands on the books I needed and then later moved to an area where tabletop gaming is virtually unheard of (the horror!). However, I still think the story has great potential, and would love to roleplay it out in one form or another, so I figure why not roleplay it here? Anyone is welcome to join, even if you haven't played the games, and I'm more than happy to provide information wherever needed. Most of the info here is based on heavy research into the otherwise minimal descriptions of Dragon Age history, and as such is taken with a lot of liberties. I believe most of it is accurate, although if someone else equally familiar with Thedosian history would like to provide advice and corrections where they're needed, it's certainly not unwelcome. Given that this is set during a time period not officially expanded on in-canon, there will be plenty of room to flex ideas--after all, given Thedas' history, much knowledge of magic, Arlathan, dwarves, the thaigs, and so much more was lost, especially after the fall of the Imperium. And since this takes place while the Imperium still retains far more power than the Imperium in Origins, it is safe to assume that much more knowledge is still to be had. The primary plot of this roleplay will be centered around founding the Grey Wardens, with plenty of bumps along the road, of course. Expect there to be plenty of magic, demons, Fade wandering (because what DA story is complete without at least one trip into the Fade), political strife, intrigue, and of course plenty of darkspawn waiting to have blades sunken into them! If you want to join, just fill out the following:
  12. How much for a sword? [R]

    There is a rhythm in all things, peace turns to war, safety turns to fear, friends turn to enemies, lords and kings come and go. A time of uncertainty and war has fallen on the land. The strong do what they want, and the weak suffer what they must. Sweat beaded and ran down his brow as large as pebbled. He couldn't stop his heart pounding or his legs shaking. His hand was clamped over his mouth for fear they would hear his rapid breath. Even though his heart beat pounded in his ears, he could hear everything clearly, even the smallest things. The horses snuffled and shuffled their feet in the lush grass of summer. Leather creaked when one rider shifted in the saddle. Metal clinked against metal. Rossi jumped and almost let out a yelp when one of the riders spoke up. "What do you think?" A male human voice said. "I'd guess two months before harvest time." A female elf voice answered. "Not worth it yet." The first voice answered. "Unless we want moldy blankets and barrels of flat beer." He let out a half laugh. "We hit this place last year anyhow, I doubt they have much else left." Said a lizardman voice. "Lets not waste our time here, we will be back in three months and take all they got." Said strong human voice. "We will hit that village down the river, I want fish anyhow." The band of horseman turned and headed back over the crest of the hill from which they were viewing the tiny village. Rossi waited until he no longer heard them before scrambling up out of the patch of think thorns and vines that had concealed him. He gave one frightened look in the direction the horsemen departed in, and ran down the him as fast as his old legs would carry him ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Someone were crying, most were silent. They all knew what was at stake. Loosing one harvest was a disaster, loosing two in a row was a death sentence. Most of the village was gathered in the dusty common land at the center of town. Some shouted, some cried, some sat silently. Every so often someone would shout a suggestion, then get shouted down by dissenters. "We should give in! Beg to keep enough to live off of!" - "They would take everything just to spite us!' "We should contact the lord!" - "He would do nothing! Just like last time!" "We should just kill ourselves! Then the lord might notice!" Everyone fell silent at that suggestion. Ranunt, one of the more weathly farmers, spoke up at last. "We should as the Old Man." Everyone silently agreed, and shuffled after Ranunt, toward the old, creaky mill at the edge of town. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Not everyone would fit inside the mill house, most crowded out front, peering through windows. Ranunt and Rossi sat on the rushes silently. Everyone was silent and tense. They had told everything they knew, telling every detail they knew or imagined. The Old Man just sat, sunken old eyes looking down, deep in thought. "We must contact the lord." Said Ranunt. "We must give them what they want." Said Rossi. "We must fight!" Shouted a younger villager pushing into the room. It was a younger elf, Turas, his eyes burning. The Old Man did not respond or even seem to react. Everyone held their breath. Finally, as quiet as a whisper, the Old Man spoke: "When I was a young man, I saw many villages burnt and destroyed. I once found one that was intact." "What did they do?" Rossi interjected. "They hired fighters." The Old Man answered slowly. "But how, we have no money, only grain," The Old Man smirked "Well then hire hungry soldiers." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After some deliberation, it had been decided that Ranunt and Rossi would go to look for soldiers. Turas had insisted to come along too, and they did not turn him away. They set out the next morning with meager rations, old woolen cloaks and walking sticks. A bedraggled last hope for the village. The had walked for two days before making it to the nearest town, Cooper's Crossing, the nearest ferry and the only thing considered a town for leagues in any direction. Even so it was a bustling place for the small town farmers, and full of traps set for easy marks. Luckily their lack of valuable got them out of most scrapes but soon left them with little food, and had robbed them of the few copper coins they had gathered in the village. Every time they had approach a person bearing arms, they had been laughed away. No one was willing to risk their necks for a meal or two a day. Time wore on and they seemed to get no where. Their hope failing, they sat in the corner of the public house they stayed in. "Maybe we should return home." Rossi said. "At least we can starve in our own homes." "Don't think that way." Turas snapped. "We must succeed." "We certainly must." Ranunt said staring at the dirt floor. "I just hope we find at least one soldier willing to help us soon."
  13. The Vile Siren Tales of a Pirate Ship and It's Crew Story The fear of pirates and pirate ships has long held strong in this land. Tales of torture and terror fall even upon the ears of the youth. With the tales come the names of the fearsome ships, The Vicious Executioner, Bloody Lightning of Hell, Hades' Nightmare, The Scream of the Ocean. And with these ships come the menacing Pirate's or sail upon them, Toothless Jack Klek, Captain Kala Darkblade, Raving Jack Ravenblack, and Vicious Simon Gully to name a few. The ships sail heavy with gold, carrying weapons polished with the blood of those they stole it from. They battle fiercely with one another to remain Kings of the Sea. But this is not the tale of a Pirate Ship of renown. No, this is the tale of the maiden voyage of The Vile Siren. A fearsome name, but the ship has not proven itself to be fearsome yet. A fledgling crew, shipping out with dreams of adventure and riches on their mind. Will they find the treasure they wish for? Will they all survive the journey? The sea's of fate await! Summary Pirates are fun and cool. Let's do an RP about Pirates! Looking for people to play all kinds of roles on this ship. It will be fun, trust me. I'm willing to let this be a bit fantastical too if people want to incorporate magic or what not. If so, we'll have to come up with power guidelines and what not. But that's only if people are interested! Probably won't start until August because I have a convention to go to between now and then. So... join and be a pirate! Characters Full Name: Nickname: Age: Position: Personality: Weapons: Skills: Appearance: History:
  14. “Pride is an admission of weakness; it secretly fears all competition and dreads all rivals.†- Fulton J. Sheen It was the seventh hour of the morning when Sylvaria rose from a fitful slumber plagued by phantoms to join the steady procession of nobles trickling through Upper Ale'del. Low clouds wreathed the Cirakin Mountains, shrouding the city in a gray mist that made the cobbled roadways more cumbersome to navigate. With meticulous care, Sylvaria guided her filly through the main thoroughfare leading to the royal palace. Months of traveling in foreign lands, free from the strictures of aristocratic society, had acclimated her to certain liberties, and she had to readjust to the formalities of her heritage, gingerly threading her way through slow-moving carriages and other riders. The fog had lifted slightly by the time she arrived at her destination, affording her a clearer view of the congregation assembled upon the rostrum at the western edge of the palace grounds. Where there would normally be a monarch or Council member issuing announcements to the residents of Lower Ale'del, instead a throng of nobles had gathered, clustered at the balustrade to watch the spectacle unfolding below in the market district. Most of her peers were clad in somber hues, and only the fine material of their attire betrayed their wealth and influence. Sylvaria herself had chosen a loose-fitting gown of crushed black velvet, with a high neckline and a modest cut befitting the occasion. Her eyes were masked by a half-veil secured to her cropped sable locks by simple black hairpins. The dark gauze obscured her features, granting her a welcome measure of privacy within the spaces of her own mind. She was not yet ready to be questioned about the presence of Soliri within the city. She took a place at the fringes of the crowd and gazed down at the market square. A dais had been erected in the center of the square, ringed by an assembly of merchants, tradesmen, and laborers. Seated upon the platform in high-backed chairs were the eight members of the Council, waiting impassively as two armored guards dragged a prisoner to the wooden crucifix mounted before them. From what little she could discern, high above the proceedings, Sylvaria could see that the man bore the sharp, angular features of the Vales, but his appearance was otherwise unremarkable, his visage nondescript and forgettable. Hidden from view, his eyes were lost beneath the tangled ropes of unkempt brown hair that hung limply against his face. He had a lean frame draped in tattered rags, and through the torn fabric Sylvaria could glimpse the angry network of scars stretching across his back, caked with dried blood and riddled with bruises that had already turned yellow with age. He was raving as his detainers pulled him to the crucifix and settled him roughly against the wooden post, lashing his wrists and ankles to the stake. “You are fools,†he spat, punctuating the statement with derisive laughter. Although his voice was hoarse, and cracked from dehydration and disuse, his words carried over the sudden stillness that fell over the crowd. “All of you. You will learn the truth of your folly soon enough, and it will avail you nothing. There is naught you can do to change your fate.†He laughed again at that, the sound growing in volume until the last cord was tightened and he was forced to imbibe a vial of nightsbane extract. Then he laughed no more, and in the wake of his silence, low murmurs of speculation arose from the gathering. “The man merely states the obvious,†a disinterested male voice commented carelessly. Shifting her gaze discreetly, Sylvaria observed that the man who had spoken was among the few who had dressed without regard for propriety, attending the proceedings in opulent finery inlaid with elaborate gold and silver brocade. “So long as we harbor the savages within our walls, our fates are, naturally, sealed.†He sighed mockingly. “Perhaps His Grace should have considered his own safety before eviscerating our policies.†“I’ll thank you to not speak of that again, for I’ve no wish to face the Council’s scrutiny,†a woman’s voice snapped in response, cutting through the flurry of gossip that followed. The man bit out a brazen retort, but Sylvaria scarcely heard it, as anger had washed over her, sudden and consuming. She willed herself to remain calm by grasping the railing and taking deep breaths. Beneath the thrum of chatter all around her, she could hear the roar of blood pounding through her ears. Seconds stretched on into minutes...until finally, the crimson haze clouding her vision dissipated, and her heartbeat returned to a steady rhythm. Moments later, the screams began. For all his insolence, the captive was mortal, and susceptible to the infirmities of his own mortality. Though she had never witnessed an execution involving the use of nightsbane, Sylvaria could recount the symptoms that afflicted him. Long before his organs failed - and they would, eventually - the toxins in his body would assault his senses, amplifying them until the merest hint of sunlight would be searing, the faintest noise deafening, and each breath excruciating. He would not taste the luxury of a swift release, either; the torment would persist for several more minutes before he would be permitted, at last, to embrace death. Sylvaria forced her gaze to remain steady by reminding herself that she beheld the man who had murdered her mentor. Her father's account of the crime still rang in her ears. The assassin had attacked as King Dorien dined in the Great Hall, loosing a poison-tipped crossbow bolt at the monarch as he bantered with guests. The attempt had nearly been thwarted by a member of the Royal Guard, who had discovered the assassin as he moved to fire, but the bolt had nonetheless found its target, lodging itself in the king’s shoulder. For a time, the king had appeared to be recovering; the bolt had missed his heart, and the injury seemed to be healing. Then, abruptly, the wound had festered, the corruption spreading rapidly through the rest of his body. He'd spent the last of his days in a fever-stricken delirium. Sylvaria could hardly imagine the pain of Lady Amalia...or Lord Damien, who had barely reached his seventh name day. How much had they suffered, to have the king inexplicably ripped from their arms? The injustice of the situation steeled her conscience, and she listened stoically as the last of the assassin’s guttering cries dissolved into silence. Once his anguished convulsions had ceased, the guards stepped forward to cut his body down from the stake. There would be no proper burial for a traitor of the realm such as he; the corpse would be flung from the heights of the Cirakin, and left to the vagaries of the wilderness. As the guards hauled the body away, a flicker of movement at the edge of sight caught her attention. But when her eyes shifted towards the source, she saw only a pair of doves taking flight, circling around the rooftops of Lower Ale'del before disappearing behind the distant spires of the Cirakin. She watched them for a long moment, then turned and slipped into the crowd of nobles filing off of the platform.
  15. The Vile Siren

    The Vile Siren Tales of a Pirate Ship and It's Crew --- Tabbie stared up at the blanket of stars above her, breathing slowly and methodically. She named the constellations in her head, determined which direction her body was facing, even attempted to predict the weather, anything but allow herself to think. Coming to terms with his death was one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. It was like losing a real father, as he was always the closest thing she had. The grass underneath her body tickled her as a breeze flitted at her clothing. This earth, this plant life, she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to go out to the sea. She had to take his place. The young girl sat up and was reminded of what she had resting on her stomach by the heavy resistance it gave to her body movement. Hawk’s Sextant. Her Sextant. She fiddled with the thing a bit in her hands, weighing and sizing it up. She had never thought she would own her own piece of navigation equipment; it was rather shocking to look at the device and think of it as her own. She held it up to her face and assessed her location. It worked like a dream. It was all she had left of him, and she would be sure to make him proud. Determined, she stood up and brushed herself off. It was no longer the time for sitting around; she had to do something with her life. Tabbie ran home to the tavern and went up to her room to pack her few belongings. She carefully packed the Sextant among her soft items and was sure to pack a few of her cartography books and supplies. Her bag was bursting at the seams, with parchment paper poking out from the edge. She hardly looked ready to join a pirate crew, but her mother saw through it as she walked into her daughter’s room. “So you’re going?†she asked softly, approaching her daughter and gently cupping her face in her hand. “I have to,†Tabbie responded, “I can’t stay here anymore.†“I know. I knew this day would come soon. Please stay safe and make us proud.†Tabbie nodded and left the tavern before she could shed a tear. She had to be strong now. For her mother and for Hawk. With purpose, she led herself down to the docks, hoping that she may find some ship in need for a navigator.
  16. The Sword of Ascalon A role-play by Etereality & HerculeHastings Prologue The frail husk of a man lay motionless on his throne, high up in the tower of his lofty fortress. The stone walls, through which no light nor warmth could penetrate, insulated him from the world outside in both the literal and figurative sense; none of the servants that oversaw the castle's upkeep has ever laid eyes on their master. After decades of servitude to their reclusive, the servants knew instinctively to avoid the northernmost tower lest they attract their lord's attention and be ensnared by his will. For although the immortal is nearly blind and deaf, he has mastered sight beyond sight and sees far more than any ordinary mortal ever can. Today, however, the immortal is satisfied. After centuries of careful machinations, executed by the oblivious pawns whose minds he had spiked, the pieces are finally in place. There were times when he had nearly given in to the pain that wracked every fibre of his body, to the comforting light of oblivion within his own mind. Those were dark, dark times… times when the immortality that he had sacrificed so much to wrest away from the jealous bosom of God had seemed like a curse, not a precious gift. He had painfully learned that although he has conquered Death itself, Time remains his greatest adversary. Struck down by the wrath of God, he had lost nearly everything, been reduced to this most wretched state of All Creation. But no matter, today he was closer to surpassing godhood than ever. Today, the pain was much more endurable than ever. For this was the day when he would set the wheels of fate into motion. First, he would claim for himself Silene of the West, whose flames once laid waste to the Arkenath continent many eons ago. The Uiurs were headed for Ascalon even now; soon Silene would join her strength with his. With the ferocity of the famed dragon, he would then wage war against the East and eventually all of Arkenath. With a bit more patience, he would see his dominion over the children of God restored, just as the way it was two millennia ago. With his children pined under the iron fist of his greatest enemy, God would surely be forced to reveal himself. And when that happens, the immortal would be waiting, ready to usurp the absent Father of All Creation and begin a new age of divine rule. One that will last forever. Urgarth the Undying allowed himself the satisfaction of a small smile, an expression that was hidden from the sight of even God himself. - Chak… chak… chak... The scraping of the rutter against the loamy soil was a ticker that divided the interminable flow of time into a comforting rhythm. Draken Hearthstone's arm had long gone past the point of soreness; now all he felt was the sensation of movement. At this moment, his entire world consisted solely of the area of loam before him and the bundle of sensations that was his body. His thin cottony shirt clung to his perspiring skin as he labored under the waning rays of the evening sun. Setting aside the tool, he tugged at a clump of weed, dislodging it easily. He dropped the errant plant into a raggedy pouch lying by the side and sat back on his haunches, wiping his face on a soaked sleeve. Ascalon was neatly laid out on the plains before him, a rustic collection of stone huts silently enduring the elements. Smoke was coming out of the firesmith’s forge to the north, together with the occasional burst of flames through the billows. Draken imagined that Rinne must be hammering away at an implement even now, her keen features blackened with soot and slick with perspiration. His sister was the one who had inherited their parents’ talents and was the town’s best apprentice firesmith, as Dulmar the Iron-Dwarf had been boasting to anyone who would listen. “Unlike that soft-hammed Draken,†Dulmar would say as he snorted dismissively. Draken still winced at the memory of Excalipoor, the sword he had forged after hours of backbreaking work with the forge. When he had tested it by swinging it at a rockmelon fruit, it sank exactly one inch into the flesh and became stuck there. Dulmar had chortled and made it a permanent exhibit in the forge, together with the rockmelon, which had become a permanent fixture of the weapon. Burning with shame from the memory, Draken averted his eyes from the forge and let his gaze roam across the landscape – past the marketplace, the distinctive henge stonework that was Ascalon’s centerpiece, and the numerous farm-and-cottage clusters. He finally allowed it to settle on the jagged peaks of the distant mountainous range, where Central Arkenath lay hidden from sight. An insistent gust of wind blew from there, creating a hollow sound audible throughout the village. “’You have done well today, but it is time we head back, young Draken. Night will fall soon.†It was Balthier who had spoken and who looked at Draken with benevolent eyes. The former Conductor had taken in the young Dragonkin under his apprenticeship when it had seemed like no one else would. Draken was immensely grateful for the his tutelage, even if he didn’t know Balthier very well and still didn’t quite understand exactly what he was supposed to be learning from the inscrutable man. All summer, the man had made him do odd jobs across the village like gather specific herbs from the surrounding forestry, weed the fields and observe the movement of the clouds, which hadn’t struck Draken as being particularly useful for his Calling when it comes two autumns from now. But follow Balthier’s words he did, for he had no other choice really. “Yes, Elder Balthier.†There was no reply from Balthier, and so Draken looked up at the man, who turned out to be squinting intently at the distant horizon, his grey eyebrows furrowed. “Those clouds herald ominous tidings, Draken...†At these words, Draken redirected his attention back to the mountains, but all he saw were the murky clouds that possibly signaled imminent rain.
  17. Amoria

    Survivors of the initial Undead onslaught had quickly learned that even though the battle was over, the war would never end. The Undead, while no longer actively hunting, capturing and killing any of the living, would always be a clear and present danger. Surviving under these conditions was a skill only few possessed and in order to ensure that the weak would not fall prey to the trappings of complacency they had vocalized several rules in order to increase chances of survival. One of these very simple rules was to never spend the night outdoors. While it seemed basic enough, it was oftentimes easier said than done. Especially for a group of five travellers who had set out on a suicidal quest because of someone’s insane idea that a children’s bedtime story held the answer that would save humanity. After a day of travelling the countryside the sun had begun to set, a mundane event that had become a omen that ushered the rise of the Undead and the hours of peril. Staying out in the open was rarely a wise decision, considering that the vast majority of the Undead forces were nocturnal and would start roaming the lands in less than an hour. The large open space would provide little cover and serve is an awful surrounding for those wishing to avoid contact with the Undead. Lucky for them Alastair knew exactly where they were and how to solve their predicament. Alastair MacCallum was a Homunculus who through his years of operating for the Alabaster army had gotten used to taking the jobs no one else wanted or wished upon anyone. Likewise, he served as the scout for this particular group of travellers, walking ahead by himself in order to ensure that they did not stumble upon an insurmountable threat and lose their lives this early. Like many of his missions, Alastair’s job was to die so everyone else could survive if worst came to worst. Of course, most threats were dormant during their travels, meaning that monsters or Undead lacking a weakness to sunlight were the only real threats. After deciding on what he deemed to be the group’s best course of action, he ceased walking ahead and sat under a tree for ten minutes as he waited for the group to drag their feet and rejoin him. They were a truly eclectic band of travellers. A pair of magically potent sisters, a noble knight from a neighbouring kingdom and a nomadic warrior who cared little for anything other than his prowess as a martial artist. The sisters were easy on the eyes, but were also a bit odd. At times he wondered whether it was a good idea to travel along a necromancer and what he could only describe as a demonologist. Conceding that beggars can’t be choosers and the amount of volunteers lining up to go on a futile suicide mission had sadly run dry he chose to lay his worries to rest and focus on the journey to come. If the sisters made him feel uneasy, one could say that he straight up abhorred being in the company of Jun and Alicia. If it weren’t for the situation forcing them together he would have preferred to avoid the presence of knights, even those of a different kingdom, or the seemingly apathetic nomad. “There is a town not far from here,†Alastair said, pointing at the stone walls encircling and obscuring the aforementioned town. “It is less than ideal, but it is either that or we set camp on the field.†The group followed the uncertain Alastair hesitantly; they all knew the risks of staying the night in a large town, but the fact that it was at least marginally better than remaining out in the open meant that no one objected. Balmorra Burgh was a fortified town close to the border of Portland and Alabaster. During his days in the army Alastair had frequently stopped at the Burgh, usually whenever he was sent on an excursion to Portland. While he had never regarded the Burgh with anything more than indifference he was saddened by the sight of the stone walls covered in overgrown moss, broken down buildings stripped of their former lustre and desolate streets where once the marketplace was crowded to the point of frustrating Alastair. In times such as these few enemies were as likely to kill a man as sentimentality, and Alastair was well aware of that fact. Wasting time lamenting the times that once were was a habit any survivor of the Undead onslaught had to kill as fast as possible. After stepping into the Burgh, Alastair noticed several buildings that could serve as suitable shelter. “We shouldn’t head to deep into town,†he said, worried that the fortified town would serve as a coffin for the group if they locked themselves too far inside it. “It won’t be long before we have run out of our remaining sunlight and are left in the dark. I’d suggest we inspect all buildings close by to see if there are any Undead resting or sleeping inside. I’ll take the far end.†The remaining minutes of sunlight were spent by Alastair entering and inspecting as many of the seemingly abandoned wooden houses as he could. The reason large towns were avoided like a plague was due to the many houses that could conceal sleeping Undead who’d awaken at night and assault unsuspecting travellers seeking shelter. Confident that there were no concealed Undead in their immediate vicinity he returned to the house the party had chosen to use for shelter.[ “If no one else wants to, I’ll take first watch.â€
  18. So,towards the middle of the RP Carnival, I noticed my ability to come up with riveting tales and ever eloquent stories was failing me. I couldn't seem to concoct anything new and/or good really and my writing sort of fell off for a while. While I was busy packing somethings and looking at some awesome stuff and playing games, some ideas struck me like lighting cast by (insert mage name here). Of course, I'm not going to claim that I'm back at an awesome writing peak again. However, these ideas are interesting to me, so maybe some of you will find them interesting and might want to join me for a fun RP based on these ideas. *Note: none of these have names yet, and these are short descriptions. Hyaaaaaaaa! This idea struck me while playing an MMO on my PC. Really it's an idea for a character that sounds fun, therefore the concept only really exists so I can use a new character idea. It's a world where long ago (insert beings/breeds here) all live together in peace. They thrived and had a grand country under the rule of (insert name). These people live well with advanced technology based on the one thing found in great abundance on the planet, Luxcerium. (explained later) With this magic material, life was created in the form of (insert android race name) and they created their own empire as well, living peacefully alongside their creators. When the Luxcerium began to run dry from over use however, the (insert) went to the humans/demons/angel/elves/etc. for help and were denied. War broke out soon after and was waged for many years with the people winning. In a tragic twist of events, the war ended with the destruction of the (insert) from celestial cause. The people also suffered great loss, forcing them into the equivalence of the dark ages without the use of Luxcerium. Thousands of years have passed since then and the tales and legends of old slowly faded more and more with the progress of man, until society was once again thriving and the Luxcerium and (insert) were forgotten. (this last paragraph here will probably be changed for something different later) Gods Among Us Okay, so I think all of the ideas are just for awesome character concepts, but moving on...This idea sprang up while I was viewing some radical images on the google. The setting is modern day wherever the hell, but it's modern. Magic is, of course, total fiction. Young (insert character name) believes this as well. Even if he wishes that something about the world were extraordinary, he is painfully aware of that blandness that is earth. However, one day he witnesses an event that will change the fate of mankind. A person, who he's never seen, is found in the middle of a four way intersection in the midst of rush hour. As he stands there, people yelling at him to move, a beast of unknown origins emerges from seemingly nothing at the call of the man. The beast, following the mans orders then goes out and beings destroying everything he can. While doing so, another man steps forward and summons a completely different, but equally terrifying beast and there, in the middle of downtown (city name) they fight a battle that changes everything. (This story can go several places, so I'm just going to leave it there for anyone who finds the concept of summoned beast interesting) Lost Wonders Again, character concepts, but this one has something that might amount to possible story line. This one hit me while packing. Janus, a man of legend. He has fought demons, warbeasts, vampires, fallen angels, warlords, mages, and a thousand other races to tedious for me to concoct. His skill in (blank) is that of a paragon and he is a being of untouchable power. Janus the Unparalleled. Janus the Paragon. Janus of the (blank) Knights. Janus the Legendary. Janus the Fair Skinned. Janus of the Golden Hair. Janus...well, they get the point. So when this young man by the name of Janus (lastname) appears in the city of (blank) with claim to be Janus the Reduced Power he gets all manner of scorn and disrespect. The villagers all know the tales of Janus, and they all KNOW with out a shard of doubt that this man couldn't possibly be "Our Lord and Savior Nicholas Cage Janus." So then who is he really? And who is this all powerful, coated in roses Janus? Basically, this Janus had his powers drain by whatever thing and he is no longer the all powerful guy. And he isn't the only one. The other (blank) Knights are the same way. This tale is about their journey to regain their powers from whatever to achieve whatever, for blah blah blah, yadda yadda. You guys get the idea. If anyone has interest in these, please feel free to say so ^.^
  19. Ghost in the System

    Ghost in the System In the year2021, Neigel Hassen, creator of the virtual reality game Seraphim, created the first plausible augmented reality device in the form of big clunky goggles. Using cameras that film constantly in real time and feed connections to the goggles, the program creates a real time copy of reality and projects it through the lenses. Other programs are used in combination to create virtual objects that work in real time as well. This system was a great break through and was named God Vision. Over the course of a decade with much research, experimentation, and investment, the program was set up for to run in all across the world. Cameras placed in cities, and programs installed in already created cameras to spread the augmented reality to the public. June 3, 2031, God Vision went live and swept the world away with its revolutionary system. All across the globe people bought the now sleek model glasses and goggles to use. Schools, homes, private and public; God Vision became a necessity. Children and teens took to it the easiest and quickly became attached to the system, using it for things like games, exploiting bugs and glitches for fun, creating programs to run alongside it to both help and hinder others. It was a great success. After several more years, the God Vision system began to grow weaker. Rumors began to spread about strange glitches in the system and several unexplained incidents occurred with people falling unconscious while using GV. To disperse any rumors of the God Vision system being dangerous, the company used the obvious compatibility issues as an excuse to upgrade. With advances in technology, the servers worldwide underwent maintenance for a week as God Send was installed over the original God Vision to solve the problems. 2037, and the world is continuing on just as always using God Send. On many forums popular among younger people though, rumors about a ghost in the system linger. The familiar legend of the God Eater floats around. Though widely dismissed as impossible, a fairy tale, or a simple legend, what is the truth? Overview Your basic ghost in the system story line. Mysterious rumors revolving around dangerous self-programming AI in augmented reality that lives in the program and causes people harm. A group of teens gets interested after hearing about the rumors and decide to take action. They then begin to search for the truth behind the legend and become detectives. They use skills that aren't widely known to exploit the system: hacking, glitches and bugs in the programming, black market items.They fight against the established system in this manner to find the secrets hidden away and uncover the truth. :Terminology: GV- This stands for the original version of augmented reality, God Vision. GS- The current version of augmented reality, God Send. Mods/God’s Eye- These are AI created by Seraphim CO. to manage the server real time. They handle things like bugs and glitches in the programming, usually appearing where out dated programming, or glitched/bugged space exists. Admin/Hand of God- These are AI created to maintain the laws of augmented reality. They can’t enter private areas, school zones, and other places. They appear where people are attacking the system. (Rumored to have been created to handle God Eater, but never confirmed) Other stuff TBA? ______________________________________________________ So, any takers on this here idea?
  20. She lifted it up triumphantly, the sun shining as brightly as her excitement. "The first piece!" She exclaimed, holding the old stone covered in markings above her head as if it was a new idol of hers. After nerves finally calmed down a bit, she carefully placed the item in her small pack, pulling out a tattered piece of cloth-like paper in the process. She pulled out a pencil along with it and made an 'X' on one of the areas of the map drawn. "I knew this was as real as anything. Insolent humans. They are too dense to take the clues given to them to find what would once again make them the top of the food chain. Their mistake. I have it now." She gave a cold chuckle as she folded the paper and placed it back in her pack with the pencil, shouldering it as she rose to her feet among the rubble about her. Broken statues, broken walls. Everything surrounding her was shattered or crumbled, including the 20 or so broken bodies lying lifeless only a few feet from her. Her bloodied clothes yet lack of wounds could easily answer who had caused this new mess but that was about it. What had transpired here, why, and how would never be answered as she walked over the mess and back towards the closest village. She picked her way carefully but skillfully, hardly looking at the dead she stepped over and giving no sign of remorse at what she'd done. Her sense of accomplishment still lingered in the air about her. She happily stayed with her thoughts. If it's going to be this easy for each piece then I'll rule this world before anyone even knew what was going on. Though I doubt it will be that easy. I am not naive. It will probably get harder as I go on, though that's alright with me. Anyone who saw her walking towards the village would probably expect nothing of her except that she needed immediate medical attention. She looked nothing more than a delicate woman, beautiful in all ways except for her newly dirtied clothes. Her white hair was out of place for such a young woman but no one here would say anything to her concerning it. She had stayed here for 2 weeks searching for this special stone and had caused no one any trouble. Though she was not particularly kind, she was polite and mostly kept to herself. If anything, she didn't look like someone who could kill another human on her own, let alone the 20 different creatures lying out of the village's sight. She finally reached the village entrance and walked in as strongly as she felt, though no one saw her as strong and so rushed to her, trying to make sure she was alright. She spun a story as calmly as anything. "It's nothing. I was just not paying any attention and tripped over a dead animal. I guess its predator had had all it had wanted and just left it there. Excuse me. I need to clean up." She walked coldly past the humans surrounding her, rolling her eyes. Petty things. This is why they can never win a war. She made her way to the inn she had been staying at, walking in and going directly upstairs to her room, unlocking it and going to her closet, picking out some clean clothes and making her way to the bathroom. Lying her pack down, she undressed and cleaned herself up, her eyes never letting her pack go unguarded. Finishing and dressing, she went out and sat on her bed, taking the stone out again and examining it, trying unsuccessfully to make out any language she knew in the writing on it. Sighing, she put it back in her pack and put it on, going back downstairs to the small bar and taking a seat. The bartender silently came up to her, in no mood to be sweet with his guests though she didn't mind. "Whiskey." She said flatly and he fix her a few shots and let her be. Downing one, she sighed. If there is no way to read them then how do I figure out the instructions I don't have?
  21. Ghost in the System In the year2021, Neigel Hassen, creator of the virtual reality game Seraphim, created the first plausible augmented reality device in the form of big clunky goggles. Using cameras that film constantly in real time and feed connections to the goggles, the program creates a real time copy of reality and projects it through the lenses. Other programs are used in combination to create virtual objects that work in real time as well. This system was a great break through and was named God Vision. Over the course of a decade with much research, experimentation, and investment, the program was set up for to run in all across the world. Cameras placed in cities, and programs installed in already created cameras to spread the augmented reality to the public. June 3, 2031, God Vision went live and swept the world away with its revolutionary system. All across the globe people bought the now sleek model glasses and goggles to use. Schools, homes, private and public; God Vision became a necessity. Children and teens took to it the easiest and quickly became attached to the system, using it for things like games, exploiting bugs and glitches for fun, creating programs to run alongside it to both help and hinder others. It was a great success. After several more years, the God Vision system began to grow weaker. Rumors began to spread about strange glitches in the system and several unexplained incidents occurred with people falling unconscious while using GV. To disperse any rumors of the God Vision system being dangerous, the company used the obvious compatibility issues as an excuse to upgrade. With advances in technology, the servers worldwide underwent maintenance for a week as God Send was installed over the original God Vision to solve the problems. 2037, and the world is continuing on just as always using God Send. On many forums popular among younger people though, rumors about a ghost in the system linger. The familiar legend of the God Eater floats around. Though widely dismissed as impossible, a fairy tale, or a simple legend, what is the truth? _______________________________________________ The final bell of the day rang and as the first sound tolled the class erupted into the sounds of scrapping chairs, rustling bags, and the voices of many students discussing after school plans. Raife stuffed his Japanese literature book back into his bag just as a notification appeared just at the bottom of his vision. With a flicker of his thoughts the notification opened to a recent post on a forum about something called GSC; God Send Coma. It was a rumored condition about people falling into a coma while using GS. With another flick of thought the screen was closed. Most of the reports he’d read about AR related comas were just people trying to draw attention of feeding off of what they heard. Raife had done plenty of research on GSC already and found the only cases that had any basis were those from GV. He didn’t care to read a dead end message. “Raife! What plans have we got for this afternoon buddy?†Connor asked throwing his arm around Raife’s shoulder. “I’ve got no ideas at this point. We could always just go grab something to eat if you’re just that bored. Or was that actually just a rhetorical question because you plan to drag me into something else again today?†Raife asked as he stood, bag hanging in one hand, and they left the classroom together. “Nah, but we shouldn’t waste the summer. Even if summer vacation is over, fall will be here soon, and then it’ll start getting cold,†Connor said. As they reached the entrance of the school building a notification popped up in Raife’s vision and he opened it with his right hand, reading the headline plastered across the top of the black page in red letters. 17 Year old attacked by unknown entity inside God Send This quickly grabbed Raife’s attention and he was very eager to get into action with something of this nature. It wasn’t a blatantly calling out anything. The article under it was very vague as well. Nothing about specifics that were tale tell signs of false info. The only thing it mentioned was the witness testifying that he’d been attacked by someone at night, and they were wearing some kind of armor. “Actually, I think I do have something to do now. Just read up on the board about something interesting. Sounds like an attack from a *Binary,†Raife said. "Still chasing the rumors of course. At least you found something good. There's been nothing but garbage recently right?," Connor asked, aware that Raife occupied his time with researching AR rumors and things of that nature. "Pretty much. I mean, it's not like there really is anything deeper than the surface, but still, it's fun to watch and it gives me something to do. I don't run with any of the gangs, so I have to find something else to sate my interests. Would you care to join me in my investment on this case Connor," Raife asked as he walked backwards while talking. It was then that something bumped into him and he lost his balance completely, tripping over the small ledge at the lockers and plunging to the tiled floor. He caught himself with one hand just before his head hit and he breathed a sigh of, “Safe.†Connor’s face twisted in some sort of mix of distaste and horror seeing who had just run into Raife; Hannah, the small girl who literally split crowds with her presence. Of all the students milling about, it had to be this one. I get the feeling things won't go so smoothly. Raife might not be able to talk his way out of this one. Connor thought, keeping a clear distance from both of them as students had already began to gather around the entrance, some whispering, some gasping, but all waiting to see what would become of the situation now. Foot Note* A Binary is an entity rumored to form from obsolete data no longer used, or from any data that wasn't properly deleted.
  22. Fairy Tales For Sophie A small gust of wind blew frigid rain throughout the funeral procession, tangling umbrellas and whipping soaked hair to and fro. The only man not holding an umbrella was instead clutching onto his daughter's hand, whose lifeless eyes penetrated the muddy ground before her feet. She had long ago abandoned her umbrella, for she enjoyed the Seattle rain, but today wasn't a day for smiles. Her mother was slowly being lowered into the ground, and as her father watched on through misty glasses, she couldn't help but feel that it was somehow her fault. The man gripped his daughter's hand tighter, tears freely flowing down his cheeks; his extended family and group of friends were nothing more than black splotches against the grey backdrop of his squinted eyes. As the grimy dirt and mud splattered atop the black casket, he wondered how he could go on living life, or how he could raise his little girl on his own. At that moment in time, all of life's responsibilities seemed too much to handle. "Daddy..." The man hesitated for a few moments, watching as the crowd began to dissipate to leave the two remaining immediate family members some privacy. He looked down at his daughter, wet hair matted against her face, and kneeled before her, both of her hands in his. "Yes, Sophie?" Her piercing blue eyes fixated upon his framed hazel orbs, and she suddenly burst into tears as the realization of what had just happened finally registered for the first time. "I didn't even get to say goodbye."
  23. OPEN Oder of the Princesses

    The Order of the Princesses is a group of princess from many kingdoms bound together to help others. They each bring their own talents to the group and use them to help in however they can. One princess by the name of Astrea becomes the newest group in the order after her mother, Queen Donelle of Reveria, sends her off to follow in her footsteps. The princess has trouble fitting in and is unsure if she would be able to fulfill her duty until an unknown dark force begins to spread throughout the kingdom and it is up to the princesses to stop this threat. Character Sheets: Princesses Name: Age: Kingdom: Looks: Personality: Other Info: Other Characters Name: Age: Gender: Kingdom: Occupation: Looks: Personality: Other info:
  24. Hell Street

    Once, many centuries ago there lived a demon, though her blood was black, her heart was pure. Lore read that demons were monstrous creatures, aggressive, and vicious things; the lore though is not always so accurate. This demoness had lived a life as many humans had, though far from ‘normal’ she lived with friends and companions, she endured her own turmoil and sacrifice, but also held much joy in her life, just as many do. As a demon her life was dark, their methods violent, but not necessarily cruel or evil. Her name was Seyerna, with hair the color of night and eyes that resembled blood, she was the epitome of a demon, she was tall, her body lean and strong, but uncommonly beautiful with her elegant figure and ‘come hither’ features. There were no myths or legends on her, none commonly known anyway. If anyone wrote of her the text was lost, but her deeds had affected the fate of the world. When darker beings of her race thought to blindly open the gates of hell it was Seyerna that gave her life, willingly and without fear to protect those she would call friends and family. She tore her very soul, using her essence to scar the rip in the dimensional field that allowed the monsters of hell entry into the mortal plane. Though the demons that had escaped from hell wreaked much havoc, the world did recover and continued to prosper without their dark savior who was now bound in the pits of hell. In hell she faced new trials, the way of hell was simple “might maketh right†it was a constant battle, the demons and monsters of hell cared for little save the thrill of battle. She was no virgin to violence, but the very atmosphere vibrated with the aggressiveness of its tenants and it was a new world for her. Time in hell doesn't move the same way, it's not... linear. Sometimes it's the middle of night, and thirty seconds later it'll be mid-day, so there is no telling how long she lingered in this world, while the time in the mortal plane suggested many centuries, it may have been more, or it may have been less in the time waves of hell. It didn't matter though, the weight of always being on her toes was a heavy burden, not something she had done in life, she had made friends and companions, people to trust; now in hell, even those she traveled with, some she even called ‘friends’ where not someone she would turn her back too. So when the ripple in the dimension danced across her skin she ran for it, she knew that feeling as if it had only been yesterday, her mind screaming ‘Why! Why would anyone open a gate?’ It was a fleeting thought as even more prominent was the urge to escape. Survival in hell was not a game, and it quickly lost its appeal for someone who would rather seek luxury than violence. The most primitive part of her demonic mind craved the violence, enjoyed it, but she had not been born into this world and she had long since conditioned her mind to a more lax way of processing. As the portal fluctuated and shuttered with uncertainty she flung herself into the rip, not carrying to test the waters, not worried about what might be waiting on the other side, in her experience good people did not open gates to hell, but at that time, she simply didn't care. She landed on her hands and knees, the slight difference in gravity weighing on her flesh, making her tremble with familiarity – joy. Breathing heavy, unable to believe she had made it, that she was back on Earth, she could see her friends again! How long had it been? The world around her quickly rushed to her senses, the new smells, the strange sounds, realizing that whatever was beneath her palms was not any kind of flooring she had seen before. She was on her feet in seconds, her eyes wide as they took in the new world, bars curved and created a dome cage over her head, their heads, as she quickly accounted for the many monsters of hell locked in with her. Between the bars the air seemed to shimmer, curiously she touched it and immediately a shock of power went through her veins, ‘lightning’ her mind pieced together, or at least it seemed like lightning, she had known very few mages in life who could conduct lightning; fire and ice were one thing, but lightning was very different. Her eyes bolted around the room, her demonic thoughts immediately seeking an escape but as she took in the dozens of humans surrounding the cage curiosity became the dominant thought. The prominent humans before her were dressed different, their clothes blue that covered their entire body, layered in thick black pieces that appeared heavy and uncomfortable, they didn't appear like cloth. Other humans were dressed in completely white suits, even their heads covered with some strange white helmet, other’s still wore long white coats, they were further away raised up on a different level form them. The ones in the front held something that alarmed her though she knew not why, it was metal, and took on an ‘L’ shape, their fingers in the crook of the ‘L’ it seemed to be ‘pointed’ at them, what did that little device do? The air rippled again and she jerked to see the portal to hell closing, briefly she wondered if going back through would be a better option. Turning back to face her captors, the questions continued to rumble through her mind, why would they want demons in this world? They obviously had been the ones to open and close the gate; they had been prepared for them. Many of the humans eyed her, immediately Seyerna became aware of the fact that she was the only one in the cage that held any sort of human characteristics, the creatures they had brought over where the most grotesque of hell-born demons, most of them black or gray, their eyes black or red, some of them seemed to ooze slime, others looked like leather and some were completely scaled over, their bodies were not shaped like humans, some had more or less limbs, some were quadrupeds, in the end they were all disturbing to gaze upon. Seyerna though, even in her most demonic of form, with two sets of horns breaching her forehead, one curling around her long elfin ears, the others sliding back against her skull, her wings were black and scaled like a dragons, as was her tail that currently sat coiled around one ankle with claws, long and dark from blood stain, she still shared the similar bone structure and features. She knew she was a sight to behold for humans, but hell’s atmosphere forced her to retain her demonic state, demanded her most demonic thoughts, every second that she lingered her, it felt a weight was lifting off of her mind even as her demonic form seemed to grow heavier. Soon the features would recede and she would appear even more human, save her bloody eyes, canine fangs, and claws, but even her claws would shrink, and her fangs, which currently there were two sets, top and bottom, the bottoms would vanish entirely, the top four would become barely noticeable. A strange hissing sound drew her attention from the many human eyes on her, she looked up, to where the sound seemed to originate, the air there was different, her sensitive vision picking up on the very particles in the air, noting something not right about them. In moments her eyes were growing blurry and heavy, around her the grotesque demons were falling, passing out, or dying she wasn't sure. It felt like her heart was slowing, her mind was going fuzzy. Realizing too late that there was some kind of poison in the air, she held her breath, refusing to take in any more of it, not that it mattered though; the drug was already in her system. Her demonic body fought and struggled against the drug, trying against all odds to keep her conscious, being unconscious in hell meant certain death and so her body pushed her into overdrive, demanding her to stay awake. All of the demons had fallen and Seyerna stood on shaking legs, gazing through blurry eyes at the many individuals around her that she could no longer decipher, when once she could see their pores from across the room, now she couldn't even single them out. She could hold her breath for close to ten minutes, but it didn't matter, the drug was eating away at her reserves and minutes after the last demon had fallen unconscious she fell to her knees, still fighting. Several minutes more passed and she finally collapsed in a heap on the ground unconscious, the drug finally winning and blacking out her senses.
  25. In Cold Blood

    In the courtyard of Proudspire Manor, a straw man becomes acquainted with the point of a training foil. It hits him relentlessly, impaling him countless times on it's blunted edge, though each strike lands far off from the target painted on his chest. At the end of the foil, a young woman huffs, her breath visible in the cool air. As she recovers from her lunge, falcon glides towards her, landing on her shoulder. It ruffles it's feathers dismissively at her frustration, and she lunges again. The falcon takes into the air, only to land once more as she recovers. They repeat this until the girl grows tired, laying her foil to rest with the others. The falcon did not belong to her originally; it was her father's. In this later years, the man had taken up falconry, as his adventures were over, and he was bored. There were fruits to her father's labor, however. In his relentless treasure-seeking, he was able to gather enough coin to purchase a manor in Solitude, where he raised his family. Elyndriel was her name. His first, and only child. She was such a willowy thing, barely fitting in her father's bulky shadow. She listened to her father's stories, dreaming of being an adventurer like him one day. As Elyndriel grew, her father continued his attempts at falconry. It seemed the rowdy bird had not taken to his training, and became more of a companion to the young girl. Elyndriel gave it the name "Mudcrab", because it's talons reminded her for mudcrab claws. Not as graceful as one would imagine, but it was fitting. Years passed the family by, as their leisurely life in Solitude continued. When Elyndriel had just finished growing, her father had given in to illness, losing his life. The Breton woman turned away from the courtyard. Most of her was concealed by a hooded, furred cloak, and a woolen scarf. Her eyes were visible, shining hazel in the dull evening. She was wearing a grey dress the ended just before her boots began. She stepped out of the courtyard, quickly making her way towards The Winking Skeever, the local inn. Thoughts of warm mead made her feel warmer already. She stopped at the entrance, and Mudcrab launched itself off of her shoulder, flying back towards the manor. After she entered the Inn, Elyndriel pulled down her hood and her scarf, releasing her long, light-brown hair, which pooled down her back and in front of her chest. She smiled as the warmth of hearth reached her, soothing her flushed and frost-bitten cheeks.