The sun rained down mercilessly. Fortunately for Stephen, the large straw hat he had was perfect for defense from solar rays. He had Ludicolo following him now, and the two of them couldn't help but to stare with awe at the colorful plants, buildings and banners of Forie. Stephen snapped a few pictures with a cheap disposable camera he had bought. For all my high-tech pokegear, none of it has a camera function... Seems like an oversight, Stephen thought. He could smell food and fruit-trees from all over, and the whole town was awash with aromas. The air reminded him of Verdanturf, and he was glad to forget the constant briny smell of his boat-ride out here. Even now he could see more and more white boats arriving at the shore, bringing in more trainers and vacationers.
Then, Stephen spotted it. There was a loud, dust-kicking wave coming up the street, straight toward him and Ludicolo. The danger became imminent, and as the shouting grew close Stephen and Ludicolo unfroze, and their feet quickly carried them to being glued onto a nearby doorway. Five were running ahead of the rest, sprinting to escape a liquid mass of people in tropic-patterned shirts. The street shook, and as the five bandmates bolted past, one of them carrying nearly a dozen suitcases shouted, “RIGHT! TOWARD THE PLAZA!”. They looked like some kind of musician group and their manager, and Stephen was impressed they were outpacing the crowd while carrying an entire stage set.
A short man from the crowd carrying a flash-bulb camera peeled ahead of his peers, and dove to catch onto one of the girl band members as her group rounded the bend toward the plaza. Time slowed down, and Stephen watched as the man drifted through the air, one arm outstretched, his finger resting on the trigger of his camera, like some kind of action-movie hero in bullet-time. Then, leaping down from the girls collar was an especially tough looking Minun. In moments it landed on the mans head while he was still mid dive, and Thundershocked him sending him off-course. As the man rolled log-ways acrosst the ground, the Minun agilely hopped back to its trainers collar.
After the thunder of feet had passed, the people remaining on the street were Stephen, his Ludicolo and the cameraman who had tumbled into the gutter. Stephen and Ludicolo peeled themselves off the door, welcoming being 3-dimensional again. They gazed at the less fortunate, whose camera had automatically printed out a picture it had snapped; the scowl of a Minun. The photographer was more or less decommissioned, laying in a heap just off the sidewalk. Stephen held up the photo and admired it. The Minun really captured the essence of fearsome, and no doubt had guarded its trainer like this on many occasions. Stephen could feel its glare through the picture, and quickly replaced it on the photographer.
“Norville, you think you could wake him up? Atleast he'll find out he hasn't failed entirely. That Minun is something else, he should be glad he caught it in its element.” Stephen turned to his Ludicolo, who nodded and used Water Gun on the unconscious man. This caused him to snap awake, and he scrambled to his feet and away from the Ludicolo, giving Stephen and the pokemon dirty looks. “He'll dry off quick enough, don't feel bad.” Stephen put his arm around Ludicolo, and the pair approached the central plaza.
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About the pyromancers I'm writing for right now, I'm not trying to have it be like "I've got 5 characters", I'm having them be a part of my Main characters story, so theyre supporting. Im not sure I want anyone else to write for them though, because I have ideas for those four in the future.
Remoro, the tallest, blondest and beardedest of the crew, promptly stepped forward and adopted his “introducing pose”. With his arms dramatically outstretched, as though being in Vami's presence was a gift from the gods, he spoke reverently;
“He.” Remoro drew out the word, building his sense of suspense. “Is Vami. Savior of those in need! Our knight in shining armor! Our prince, estranged from the world of common folk by his appearance, but we cherish him, for we know what is in his heart.” As he spoke, Remoro waved his arms skyward in awe, in a pleading pose toward Shara as though begging for her belief, and back to Vami in his pose indicating the extreme value of this person. “I am Remoro, brother to Femto!” At this, he quickly bear-hugged his brother. “And my dear brother, my only brother would have been lost to me if not for the intervention of the magnificent Vami! Whose caring, and kindness was far greater than anyone elses here!” Remoro drew himself and his brother close to Shara, leaning in so that their dramatically tear-stained faces could dominate her vision. "Oh how our poor old mother would have lamented, and thrown fireballs at me when I delivered the news of Femto's untimely demise." Backing away again, nearing the end of his routine, Remoro decreed; “And now, I have more family than before. For all of us Pyromancers are family, bound by the flame in our blood! And on this day, I have declared Vami an honorary Pyromancer!!!”
In the wake of Remoro's voice was a silence deeper than most had heard before. Then, Ariel of the Pyromancers clapped for him. ”Hear hear! For the man of the hour Vami, and his admirer and speech-giver Remoro!” Ariel's bell-toned voice rang out acrosst the hall. Those mages in other rooms, who had quickly become aware of the speech from Remoro's booming voice, also joined in the applause, and the hallway became a stage at the end of a performance. Throughout the monologue, Iwan's face had been glued to his palm, but now Ariel grabbed his hands and made him applaud like the rest.
“Bravo, brother. Well said.” Femto hung off his taller brothers shoulder, and the two of them resembled like a pair of fruit grown from the same bunch.
“I... I couldn't have written so goodly of a speech, without this man as inspiration.” Remoro pulled Vami close, turning him into the third fruit of their bunch. Vami struggled to not drop any of the bottles or boxes he was carrying, while under the grip of the large pyromancer. He did appreciate the sentiment though, and smiled up at his colleague. Then he looked back at Shara, still grinning even in his mostly helpless state.
“Yes, as you may have heard, I'm Vami. Norkatch. They are all my friends, Femto, Remoro, Ariel and Iwan. Boy are pyromancers a joy to have about!” Vami's face became like that of a satisfied, purring cat. Then, Vami delivered something of a stare, with a smirk attached. The sudden change of expression was out of place, and he had directed it so it was personal between him and Shara. It was the kind of expression that delivers a message, along the lines of “I sensed what you did, a second ago.” He plainly contained no ill-will, though. He was curious at her magic before, and having felt it so close to his skin during Shara's greeting, was now wondering what she had been up to.
“He.” Remoro drew out the word, building his sense of suspense. “Is Vami. Savior of those in need! Our knight in shining armor! Our prince, estranged from the world of common folk by his appearance, but we cherish him, for we know what is in his heart.” As he spoke, Remoro waved his arms skyward in awe, in a pleading pose toward Shara as though begging for her belief, and back to Vami in his pose indicating the extreme value of this person. “I am Remoro, brother to Femto!” At this, he quickly bear-hugged his brother. “And my dear brother, my only brother would have been lost to me if not for the intervention of the magnificent Vami! Whose caring, and kindness was far greater than anyone elses here!” Remoro drew himself and his brother close to Shara, leaning in so that their dramatically tear-stained faces could dominate her vision. "Oh how our poor old mother would have lamented, and thrown fireballs at me when I delivered the news of Femto's untimely demise." Backing away again, nearing the end of his routine, Remoro decreed; “And now, I have more family than before. For all of us Pyromancers are family, bound by the flame in our blood! And on this day, I have declared Vami an honorary Pyromancer!!!”
In the wake of Remoro's voice was a silence deeper than most had heard before. Then, Ariel of the Pyromancers clapped for him. ”Hear hear! For the man of the hour Vami, and his admirer and speech-giver Remoro!” Ariel's bell-toned voice rang out acrosst the hall. Those mages in other rooms, who had quickly become aware of the speech from Remoro's booming voice, also joined in the applause, and the hallway became a stage at the end of a performance. Throughout the monologue, Iwan's face had been glued to his palm, but now Ariel grabbed his hands and made him applaud like the rest.
“Bravo, brother. Well said.” Femto hung off his taller brothers shoulder, and the two of them resembled like a pair of fruit grown from the same bunch.
“I... I couldn't have written so goodly of a speech, without this man as inspiration.” Remoro pulled Vami close, turning him into the third fruit of their bunch. Vami struggled to not drop any of the bottles or boxes he was carrying, while under the grip of the large pyromancer. He did appreciate the sentiment though, and smiled up at his colleague. Then he looked back at Shara, still grinning even in his mostly helpless state.
“Yes, as you may have heard, I'm Vami. Norkatch. They are all my friends, Femto, Remoro, Ariel and Iwan. Boy are pyromancers a joy to have about!” Vami's face became like that of a satisfied, purring cat. Then, Vami delivered something of a stare, with a smirk attached. The sudden change of expression was out of place, and he had directed it so it was personal between him and Shara. It was the kind of expression that delivers a message, along the lines of “I sensed what you did, a second ago.” He plainly contained no ill-will, though. He was curious at her magic before, and having felt it so close to his skin during Shara's greeting, was now wondering what she had been up to.
His skin felt cold, always. Like ice water was running over him, drenching his insides and washing all heat from him. But in this rotunda, Vami could feel it. Like sitting near a blazing hearth, the magic near him was a powerful flame. This sensation came to him, and another, like maybe there was another room beneath this one, but without a clear entrance. He closed his eyes and listened as he checked the floor, searching for a hollow sound.
Something stopped him, however. “Hello, Vami. I'm Remoro, the man you saved is my brother. I can't thank you enough, we had all but given up before you used your magic.” Vami opened his eyes to see a male pyromancer. He suddenly felt a twinge of something, perhaps embarrassment.
“Yes, you see I'm skilled at interacting with dark magic. The one who taught me about the nature of magic, Troyvas, was an artist when it came to shaping darkness.” The Elder Troyvas had spoken with Vami, before he had set out for this place. He warned him that many of the mages here would be scarred with grudges and hatred. This had proven to be true, but Vami felt as though he was already making a positive impact.
“Many regard dark magic as an ancient evil, since to study it is to commit to destruction. But today I suppose we all witnessed something else. You've done well by us. What were you doing there, with the floor?” Remoro glanced between Vami and his staff curiously.
“Oh, I... Well I guess I heard something... You know, like a secret passage?” Vamis voice cracked somewhat. It sounded pretty weird, but this was a fort existing for mages. Maybe he shouldn't be so ashamed, after all, there probably are about a dozen concealed doors in the place.
“Well, that's curious!” Remoro knelt and rapped on the floor with his knuckles. Every tile sounded like it was set into solid earth. “It doesn't seem like there's anything here. Maybe a cellar? There could be stairs down, somewhere else. Otherwise... Cracking open this floor would take a heavy impact, I'm sure. Maybe we can sneak in and excavate it later tonight!”
“I'm not sure. It was just a suspicion, maybe there's nothing under there after all.” Vami spoke dismissively, in order to discourage Remoro's plan. “I think we should talk to other mages, and figure out how we'll operate this fortress once it's restored. I wouldn't want the Terror to be the only governing voice, would you?”
“Hell no. That man doesn't value the life of anyone here. If he thinks we're his pawns to order at will, hes got something else coming.” Remoro was furious. Vami was pleased he had focused his friend on something other than the hidden cavern. After all, the fate of the mages here WAS important. He could sense the fire magic within the pyromancer, blazing heartily. Vami was glad he had helped these four, and now had the idea that he should keep them out of trouble. Vengeful, fire-wielding mages would surely ruin someones day if they got out of hand.
The pyromancers roamed as a crew, with Vami in tow. They greeted acquaintances as they passed through the courtyard. The fort was rapidly becoming less ancient and overgrown. Before the vines had choked the stones, all the way to the roofs. Now the foliage had become a tame garden about the central courtyard, with young trees and flowerbeds looking very organized. The stones were looking polished rather than crumbled and sun-faded, and the gargoyles posted guard had had their missing features restored. The mages were also constructing small new shelters in the space, pavilions of sort.
The names of the four pyrmomagi were Iwan, Remoro, Ariel and Femto. Remoro was the brother of Femto, the pyromancer that was wounded by the Terror. They had walked the halls and peered into the rooms of the place, exchanging words with the other mages. Most of the people they talked to seemed distrustful of the many mages they did not know, but the pyromancers seemed to be able to get them to relax and attune to the situation. Vami became introduced with many people, and their differing energies fascinated him. He was swimming like a fish in water, as this fortress became suffused with magic. Remoro was sure to tout Vami as a hero to everyone they passed, telling how he had come to the aid of his brother when no-one else did. It earned Vami a quite few gifts, kind of like an early birthday. His arms ended up loaded, mostly with bottles of exotic liquor.
As they rounded a corner in the fort, near to the back exit, the group of five nearly collided with a tall, brown-haired girl wearing a chain shirt. Then, they all noticed what was on the girls arm. She was wearing a flame, just like Femto had been earlier when he threatened the Terror. There was something off about it though, almost like it wasn't moving the way fire usually does. Femto walked closer to girl and laughed as he waved his hand near her flame. “That's a clever imitation. I suppose mimicry is the highest form of flattery?” he turned back to grin widely at Vami and the others. Vami was as amused as Femto and his crew, but also curious as to why the girl had been copying the fire magic.
Something stopped him, however. “Hello, Vami. I'm Remoro, the man you saved is my brother. I can't thank you enough, we had all but given up before you used your magic.” Vami opened his eyes to see a male pyromancer. He suddenly felt a twinge of something, perhaps embarrassment.
“Yes, you see I'm skilled at interacting with dark magic. The one who taught me about the nature of magic, Troyvas, was an artist when it came to shaping darkness.” The Elder Troyvas had spoken with Vami, before he had set out for this place. He warned him that many of the mages here would be scarred with grudges and hatred. This had proven to be true, but Vami felt as though he was already making a positive impact.
“Many regard dark magic as an ancient evil, since to study it is to commit to destruction. But today I suppose we all witnessed something else. You've done well by us. What were you doing there, with the floor?” Remoro glanced between Vami and his staff curiously.
“Oh, I... Well I guess I heard something... You know, like a secret passage?” Vamis voice cracked somewhat. It sounded pretty weird, but this was a fort existing for mages. Maybe he shouldn't be so ashamed, after all, there probably are about a dozen concealed doors in the place.
“Well, that's curious!” Remoro knelt and rapped on the floor with his knuckles. Every tile sounded like it was set into solid earth. “It doesn't seem like there's anything here. Maybe a cellar? There could be stairs down, somewhere else. Otherwise... Cracking open this floor would take a heavy impact, I'm sure. Maybe we can sneak in and excavate it later tonight!”
“I'm not sure. It was just a suspicion, maybe there's nothing under there after all.” Vami spoke dismissively, in order to discourage Remoro's plan. “I think we should talk to other mages, and figure out how we'll operate this fortress once it's restored. I wouldn't want the Terror to be the only governing voice, would you?”
“Hell no. That man doesn't value the life of anyone here. If he thinks we're his pawns to order at will, hes got something else coming.” Remoro was furious. Vami was pleased he had focused his friend on something other than the hidden cavern. After all, the fate of the mages here WAS important. He could sense the fire magic within the pyromancer, blazing heartily. Vami was glad he had helped these four, and now had the idea that he should keep them out of trouble. Vengeful, fire-wielding mages would surely ruin someones day if they got out of hand.
The pyromancers roamed as a crew, with Vami in tow. They greeted acquaintances as they passed through the courtyard. The fort was rapidly becoming less ancient and overgrown. Before the vines had choked the stones, all the way to the roofs. Now the foliage had become a tame garden about the central courtyard, with young trees and flowerbeds looking very organized. The stones were looking polished rather than crumbled and sun-faded, and the gargoyles posted guard had had their missing features restored. The mages were also constructing small new shelters in the space, pavilions of sort.
The names of the four pyrmomagi were Iwan, Remoro, Ariel and Femto. Remoro was the brother of Femto, the pyromancer that was wounded by the Terror. They had walked the halls and peered into the rooms of the place, exchanging words with the other mages. Most of the people they talked to seemed distrustful of the many mages they did not know, but the pyromancers seemed to be able to get them to relax and attune to the situation. Vami became introduced with many people, and their differing energies fascinated him. He was swimming like a fish in water, as this fortress became suffused with magic. Remoro was sure to tout Vami as a hero to everyone they passed, telling how he had come to the aid of his brother when no-one else did. It earned Vami a quite few gifts, kind of like an early birthday. His arms ended up loaded, mostly with bottles of exotic liquor.
As they rounded a corner in the fort, near to the back exit, the group of five nearly collided with a tall, brown-haired girl wearing a chain shirt. Then, they all noticed what was on the girls arm. She was wearing a flame, just like Femto had been earlier when he threatened the Terror. There was something off about it though, almost like it wasn't moving the way fire usually does. Femto walked closer to girl and laughed as he waved his hand near her flame. “That's a clever imitation. I suppose mimicry is the highest form of flattery?” he turned back to grin widely at Vami and the others. Vami was as amused as Femto and his crew, but also curious as to why the girl had been copying the fire magic.
I'm gonna post what I had written, just so that i'm not to late if something plot-related starts going down at the mage fort.
It's expressing itself, don't judge
NAME: Stephen Specter
AGE: 18
GENDER: Male
HOMETOWN: Grew up in Verdanturf Town.
He most frequently wears a T-shirt and slacks, and sometimes sunglasses. He likes for his pokemon to outshine everything around them with their sheen, so his mild attire reflects this. His clothes are earth tones and faded pastel colors, which creates good contrast with his pokemon. The style he dresses in is similar to surfers, which he picked up from time spent in Sootopolis City.
Stephen was born with an untame look, but his nature quickly developed into quite the opposite. He combs his hair back into shape throughout the day, because otherwise it would sneakily form into tangles. This is a personal battle of his, and he knows that he must prove his dominance, or else his hair will revert to its primal ways.
POKEMON PARTY
Abel the Male Glaceon
Dirk the Male Magmortar
Dejan the Girl Hydreigon
Norville the Male Ludicolo
Muppy the Girl Flaaffy
Freja the Girl Aegislash
AGE: 18
GENDER: Male
HOMETOWN: Grew up in Verdanturf Town.
He most frequently wears a T-shirt and slacks, and sometimes sunglasses. He likes for his pokemon to outshine everything around them with their sheen, so his mild attire reflects this. His clothes are earth tones and faded pastel colors, which creates good contrast with his pokemon. The style he dresses in is similar to surfers, which he picked up from time spent in Sootopolis City.
Stephen was born with an untame look, but his nature quickly developed into quite the opposite. He combs his hair back into shape throughout the day, because otherwise it would sneakily form into tangles. This is a personal battle of his, and he knows that he must prove his dominance, or else his hair will revert to its primal ways.
POKEMON PARTY
Abel the Male Glaceon
Dirk the Male Magmortar
Dejan the Girl Hydreigon
Norville the Male Ludicolo
Muppy the Girl Flaaffy
Freja the Girl Aegislash
Yea I'd prefer that too. Hopefully people come back to check on this.
So I know other people haven't posted for like, 4 days, but I kind of want to get my characters story rolling. Should 24 hours be a good enough amount of time to wait between posts?
Well things just got complicated. I mean I was thinking my covenant had interacted with the Unholy Hand multiple times in the past, maybe the Unholy Hand sought them out because of similar interests. But damn this is getting convoluted... I don't want to rewrite all my shit...
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