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2 mos ago
Current If you're ever disappointed, it's okay. All will be well. :) Let that bittersweet sting motivate you to create something wonderful.
1 like
12 mos ago
Maybe I can make time for 1 RP. Right?
4 likes
2 yrs ago
Going on an indefinite hiatus from this site due to burnout, mental fatigue, and long working hours. Thanks everyone for the amazing RPs I've been in over these many months!
1 like
3 yrs ago
I hope everyone has been safe and well here. <3
1 like
4 yrs ago
Taking a break to focus on school and work :) See you guys in a few months!
2 likes

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☾ Time: Morning, Present Day ✩ Location: Tanner, WA, (Washington Manor --->Coven Household) ✩ Interaction: No one yet. ☽


Yuna couldn't go back to sleep last night, not after her brother suddenly showed up nearly two days behind schedule and in the wee hours of the morning no less. No phone call, no warning, no nothing. After talking for a while, Cai went to sleep in his old childhood bedroom and she went to her desk to do some homework for university. She did this for about an hour or so, completing assignments, studying her materials, and preparing herself for her next class period. It was still night though, with starlight filtering through her windows and reflecting off her spectacles. She took the glasses off, rubbing the bridge of her nose until her eyes suddenly fell on a handful of envelopes sitting on the corner of her desk.

They looked old, wrapped in golden sleeves, and addressed to her father, who then, passed them on to her. She stared at these envelopes for a moment, sighing deeply, knowingly, tapping her fingers on the wood of the desk. Yuna very much understood why he gave her these envelopes every month and she came to realize how much it displeased her to fulfill them. But alas, she was the perfect daughter after all, and with no slumbering dreams to beckon her, this was as good a time as any to get it over with.

Yuna reached for the envelopes, turning each one over and opening them up with her gilded letter opener. Inside the first envelope was a piece of paper and a photo. She looked at the photo intensely, etching the face of an older gentleman with a toupee deep within the recesses of her mind. Once the image was thoroughly locked in her psyche, she opened up the folded paper to find a name (Harold Galbrath), a birthday (October 27, 1964), and a blood type (O+). The parameters of her magic were clear, but it always amazed her how some people failed to follow even the most basic rules. This patron, however, got it right.

"Harold Galbrath..." Yuna whispered, letting the name roll off her tongue. She straightened herself and turned the piece of paper over, tapping the tip of her quill pen against her tongue and then dipping it into a small tin of ink. She held the quill over the paper briefly, calling on her magic as it filtered through her body and into her hand. Suddenly, her face went still, her eyes dilated, and she fell into a trance. A magical light glimmered around the quill as a shapeless ghostly creature no bigger than a slice of bread appeared. With full lips and lines for shut eyes, the summoned creature formed two hands. These hands stretched out from its vaporous body and latched onto Yuna's hand.

Like a puppet, the creature directed the movement of Yuna's hand, creating flourishes and poetry in a handwriting unlike anything that existed in the modern world, though it was beautiful. As Yuna's body wrote, she herself was not conscious during the process, she never was. Her consciousness, in those brief moments, would drift far far away. Only after she wrote the prophetic poem and the Lovely Ghostwriter, as she called it, disappeared, would her consciousness return. Shaking her head, coming back to herself, Yuna looked over the poem she had no recollection or memory of writing. She did, however, learn how to better interpret the poems once they were written. For poor Mr. Galbrath, his immediate future did not bode well.

------------


At sunrise, Yuna prepared for the meeting at the Coven Household. She followed her normal routine, giving herself additional time to do her hair. When she went into Cai's bedroom to check on him, he was gone; to where, she had no clue. When she called him, he did not pick up, only after the fact remembering that he lost his phone with his luggage at the airport. With no time to go searching for him or to call for a premonition of some sort, Yuna instead looked to the aid of her familiar. With her father off doing CEO things, Yuna cut up some apple slices and munched on them as she exited her home. It only took a second before her familiar appeared before her, its form as a black crow this time around.

The familiar perched itself on her shoulder and she smiled at it warmly, a smile very few others got to witness.

"I imagine Cai is off being impertinent or doing something reckless, don't you? Go find my brother please and report back to me once you do" she said to it telepathically. The crow nodded and then soared off into the sky, disappearing behind a canopy of trees. Yuna watched closely until it was out of sight and then she proceeded to the Coven Household.

The building loomed as she approached it, its historic reverence magnificent even now.

But Yuna was not filled with fresh excitement, none of the novice thrill that some of the others may have experienced. Yuna had always been in Tanner, so there was no sense of a return to the familiar. In any case, Yuna already lived through this moment. She'd seen this very occasion in her dreams. From Victor to Elias to the deadbeat Carlisle to even the new girl Catherine, Yuna had dreamed of this rendezvous weeks ago. So any inkling of interest she may have held had been wasted during slumber. So when she entered the meeting hall where everyone waited (as she had seen in her dreams), Yuna simply gave each of them a demure smile for acknowledgment sake. Then she sat in a chair, crossed her legs, pulled out a mystery novel, and began to read. She tuned out the crosstalk and catch-up of her peers, allowing herself to settle into the peace and quiet of her own little world.
@Prisk

its no biggie. We can just run with it lol it can be a funny little easter egg thing lol
@Prisk

BAH! Sorry Prisk! I just realized I called your character Emilia Clarke in my post. LOL

With the new Game of Thrones series on my mind, I didn't even notice how it just slopped through!

So clever of you to integrate my blunder into Emilia's post. Brilliant! <3


DAY 1 《》 STEELWATER [Ground - Forest] 《》 Late Morning 《》 @Aeolian

▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇
Peter fought valiantly against the horrendous creatures that approached. With his crossbow leveled and filled with arrows of light, he fired. One after another, the stigma creatures fell, their heads pierced by a light so brilliant and clean that hardly any of their biofluids spilled onto the forest floor. He continued this defensive effort for a short while, eventually putting the last creature to sleep with a sparkling spritz of golden dust. It wobbled and then crashed into an ungainly slumber mid-charge.

For a brief second or so, Peter stood over the creature, watching it closely. He heaved heavily, one breathe after another, carefully observing the monstrosity. After the ephemeral moment passed and Peter regained himself, the young man took out his sword and pierced it through. At once, the creature stopped and so did Peter, feeling a nugget of ease that no immediate danger presented itself. He turned back to the young girl who still slept in the hollow of the tree. As he turned to go back to her, he heard a rustle of branches and brush nearby.

Instinctively, he prepared to put the target to sleep, assuming it was another of those stigma. But as he turned around, he found himself staring down the barrel of a rifle. It's wielder, unfamiliar, some bob-haired woman wearing a uniform that was not UDF, not like him. She must of been one of those corporate mercenaries or something of the sort. When he finally noticed the BlackRock logo on her uniform, it all made sense.

"Who are you?", she said.

Peter paused, bewildered. He stepped back, lowering his crossbow and cautiously gazing into her eyes. "Peter...I..." Before he really had a chance to explain further, another woman appeared before them. She seemed to have fell from the sky, in a graceful descent that was magical and controlled. This wasn't a free-fall and the manner upon which she settled down to the dirt made Peter think that maybe she was like him.

“You guys got here fast. Do you mind putting that weapon away or is this going to be one of those ugly encounters you hear the grunts complain about all the time?” inquired the second female voice, the woman holding up a weapon of her own to the first.

"You UDF?" The BlackRock soldier responded in question.

It took a moment, as Peter's gaze fell back and forth between the two women, hoping a brawl didn't break out. This not the time for a human quarrel with these creatures running around and an infected girl whose life was on the line. However, it didn't take long before Peter's attention remained intensely on the second woman. Peter noticed the special UDF badge on her uniform and he took in the features of her familiar face. Suddenly it struck him.

"She is..." Peter whispered, "like me...". He trained his gaze on the second woman with the intensity of a burning sun. It wasn't a glare or any look of animosity, nothing that might lead her to believe that he meant her harm. In fact, it was a look of fascination and disbelief.

"She's Emilia Clarke." he proclaimed, his mouth left slightly ajar in clear astonishment. He knew he recognized her, even her voice. He had seen Emilia's face on the airwaves and in the headlines. Most sang her praises as one of the most notable Aeons in the known universe. In many ways, she was like a celebrity, to the public and within the UDF inner circles. The Poster Girl, if you will. But Peter had no time to marvel or amuse any pleasantries. In a way, he felt slightly more comforted now that she was here, like a superhero had come to his rescue, minus the weapon being pointed at them. He looked back to the sleeping girl and remembered his mission.

"Please, I need you to help me." Peter started, turning his back on the two women and kneeling beside the girl in the hollow of the tree. Resting his hand on the her forehead, he could feel the girl's body temperature rising. It was getting worse. Without looking at Emilia or the other unfamiliar woman, he continued, "Actually, if both of you might help, I will be in your debt. You see, I arrived in Steelwater some time ago. I was separated from my team and I don't know where they are anymore. But, I suppose that doesn't matter for now...." Peter paused for a moment, taking the sleeve of his uniform to pat the sweat that began to form on the young girl's face, "I found this young girl alone and I'm sure she's been infected. I put her to sleep for now, but..." He didn't want to finish his statement of what might happen if they didn't act in time.

Finally, he stood up and faced the women once more, "I have to get her to the UDF Portable Research Station for treatment or she'll die." Peter's eyes filled with water, sparkling like stars, but no fell tears. He took a deep breath, holding his composure.

"If you help me get her there, I'll do whatever you want." His eyes moved back and forth between them, "Both of you."



Summary
DAY 1: After protecting the sleeping girl by fighting off stigma monsters, Peter is approached by two women. The first is Christina, a BlackRock soldier and the other is none other than Emilia Lange herself. He asks them for help in taking the infected sleeping girl to the UDF Portable Research Station for treatment, or else she will die.
I hope this doesn't feel 'dead' to anyone. I promised myself that I wouldn't shut anything down this time, so no need to worry about that if that has crossed anyone's mind. But, even if there is a narrative excuse for players/characters popping in and out, it can only make sense for so long. It's something to keep in mind.

<Snipped quote by Exit>

No, we need all the posts we can get.


Not dead, but it has slowed down considerably.

But that's the nature of these things sometimes, people floating in and out of activity. It's never wholely unexpected when it does happen.

Either way, I'm working on a Peter post now. Will have it out shortly!

But I do applaud us for reaching past 2 months. A lot of RPs don't even touch that. I'm proud of us who have stuck it to this point so far!

Cheers! :)
Second character ready for review.

Cheers!


Sorry guys. Not gonna be able to post tonight.

Forgot about something I needed to finish for another RP tonight and it's taking longer than I thought.

Will post tomorrow for sure though.

Cheers!
@Exit

Thanks Exit!

I plan to pump out a Peter post today. :)

Cheers!


Hope's Battle Theme
Hope's English Voice
Hope's Japanese Voice
🌹 "Thank you mother, for this magic I can use to protect others." 🌹

🌹 Time: Morning 🌹 Location: Inside a dark forest 🌹 Interaction: Yasha (Special NPC) 🌹


It didn't take long for the bandits to reveal themselves. Whether they understood their rouse was uncovered or grew bored of waiting for bloodshed, Hope knew that he had to steel himself for their approach. Thankfully, they were not the fastest as far as he could tell, as they dropped down from the canopy shadows and played peekaboo from behind the brush. Hope's angelic spirit, Yahoel, instinctively drew closer to him. Despite their slowness, they were obviously brutish and strong, with their swords and clubs. Yahoel looked toward the canopy, as though something was amiss.

Within the moment, a cascade of bandits rained down upon them. Nearby knights warded off the bandits with their fine swordplay. Hope, placed his hands forward, said a quick incantation and erected an iridescent sparkling barrier, protecting the knights near him and blocking some of their falling hammer attacks. The onslaught was relentless and Hope could feel each one as they pounded against his magic. Hope winced, "Yahoel, dispatch them at once."

The angel nodded, understanding the command without further explanation. Shimmering like a beacon of light, the angel soared into the sky and disappeared into the canopies. One by one, bandits fell from the trees, their bodies ravaged with piercing feathers and their skin seared by magical holy light. For now, it seemed that Yahoel could take care of the bandits in the trees, so Hope turned his attention to the bandits on the ground.

Hope grasped at his rapier on his waist, feeling the steel on his palms. And in an elegant motion, he unsheathed it and pointed the tip of his weapon towards the oncoming bandits.

One of the bandits trained his eyes on Hope lasciviously, licking his lips.

"A pretty knight like you doesn't belong out here on the battlefield. After this is all said and done, let me take you to bed. I'll get it real nice for you."

Hope shook his head, "No." he said, a tone of utter cold resistance in his voice. The bandit hmphed, "Too bad, to waste a beauty like you." Naturally, Hope was unmoved by the so-called flattery and flirtatious behavior of the bandit. It was gross and it only made Hope grow more resilient in fighting them off. The bandits, 3 of them, brandished their swords and then leaped toward him. Hope had no plans of letting them get anywhere near him. Brandishing his own rapier, he held it like a wand and then said a quick incantation. Just before the bandits could fall onto him with their blades, they found themselves suspended in mid-air, encased in iridescent sparkling bubbles of pure magic. The air seeped from the bubbles and the bandits gasped for air until they died from asphyxiation. When the bubbles popped, their lifeless bodies fell to the ground.

Of course, more bandits came after him, stepping on the blue bodies of their deceased comrades without a sympathetic care in the world. It was a relief though, that Hope had learned to use his barrier magic in offensive ways, creating suffocating bubbles and then this...

Swishing and flourishing his rapier around like a wand, small iridescent bubbles of magic formed. He propelled them forward, the force of the magical blasts knocking the bandits senseless. He did this for a while, keeping his distance while taking out one bandit after another with magical bubbles, stopping them before they had a chance to get too close and overpower him. But it was still dark and with Yahoel still dispatching of the bandits in the canopies, he didn't notice the bandit wielding a giant mallet sneak up behind him. The man hit Hope in the side, sending him flying into a nearby tree. Hope wheezed, the impact of the hit from the mallet and tree knocking the wind out of him. As the bandit approached, the moonlight revealed a face that was haggard and animalistic, wild like a caveman.

As the mallet came down, Hope raised his hands, erecting an iridescent bubble of magic around himself, blocking the impact. The bandit stopped for a moment, as though he'd never seen such a magic before. And then, breaking from his moment of curiosity, began wailing on the magic barrier, trying to break it. Hope could feel the pressure of the assault as the force of the impact rippled across his barrier. He knew well enough, that with enough force, a magical barrier could be broken. If that initial hit against him was any indicator, this bandit might break through. Hope winced, feeling his barrier weakening with each attack from the bandit's mallet, "I can't...hold him off for long...Yaho..." Hope murmured softly.

Before its name even completely left Hope's lips, the angel soared from the tree canopy like a bullet and in a flourish of its wings, sent a barrage of feathers at the mallet-wielding bandit. Hope's barrier fell, and shortly after, so did the bandit, with a loud thump as he hit the floor, his bodied riddled with feathers like a pincushion. The angel helped Hope up from the ground and they shared an affirming gaze.

"Thank you, Yahoel."

And together, they continued launching magical feathers and bubbles at any bandit that wished them harm.

Nearby, Yasha was watching Hope, all the while slicing through the bandits with a sword made of ice. He danced around the bandits as if they were nothing, in fact, almost looking bored and uninterested. At one moment, he laid his hands on one of the bandits and froze them solid like an ice sculpture until they shattered. It was amazing, but Hope didn't notice. Yasha continued his icy display, his dance of death. But at every chance he got, his gaze fell on Hope, intrigued.
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