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In Welcome to Marchand! 25 May 2017 20:37 Forum: Casual Roleplay

Great, great, great! It was about time to get to the good part of this whole first day meet-and-greet fiasco: the isolation and sweet recluse of one's dorm. Herman finished off his pancakes, syrup trailed down the side of his mouth. In a hurry, he grabbed his luggage and hustled for his dorm, bypassing body after body; Herman did his best to avoid conversation with everyone who breathed. After all, it'd be weird if he stopped and held a conversation with a dead person. The Runic language imprinted on the suitcase glowed a little after Herman recited an incantation, and he was able to lift the suitcase without struggle.

Once he made it to his dorm, he tossed his things on the floor and hopped up on the bed to catch some sleep before it was time to eat again.

Zara huffed perturbed from her diaphragm. It didn't seem like she was going to get paid for any of this given no suitable answers were made for all the questions posed. If she wasn't going to get paid for a missed contract, she hoped for some invigorating action elsewhere; this was a task of mythic proportions, so the thought of shooting a few demons made up for the poverty of her pockets. Her green eyes shifted around to all eight of her new co-stars, and after a moment's pause, she spoke up:

"Well, whose head I gotta shoot first to get some clean answers 'round here?"

Bedroom, Lost Haven, Dead of Night

Fire consumed the skyline, a cascade of explosions rocked the city streets one after another. Sirens blared, water hoses flared, and desolation claimed the night. A scathing heat brushed across the hooded figure’s face. Whether this was his mind’s way of re-painting the news reports of recent H.O.H. attacks or whether this was another prophecy of his illusion magic, Hassan couldn’t tell. The difference between prophecies, dreams, and illusions was all too slim for him to decipher. Another apparition formed before his sleeping mind’s eye—pure white, and she spoke riddles:

I am the greatest virtue
Soft as sand
Stern as rock
Untouched by darkness.

None of this made any sense. Hassan’s eyes shot open, and he felt a deafening light swarm his visage. The apparition wasn’t fake—and by the heavens was this one bright; it almost blinded him. A split second elapsed between his rise from slumber and the sudden weightless nothing. His entire being, his soul, had been lifted from its coil. How? He felt the need to breathe, but there was no oxygen. There was no hunger, no fatigue, no binding. He was outside of space-time; a different realm entirely. Everything fell still. The blinding light that was once unbearable grew translucent—what Hassan saw next robbed him of all words.

Space. The outer-reaches of the galaxy where no man had travelled; the universe in full expanse, stretched into the black abyss. He saw spirits of all types; angels, demons, uncleansed and yet innocent souls trapped in limbo. Wishes, hopes, thoughts, consciousness. A sudden pressure caved toward him on all sides, and everything he saw was sucked into one fixed point, one tiny sliver of light. Hassan floated—a grey, unfettered rendition of his spirit—in the mythic, extemporal darkness and in front of him the fixed sliver of light widened. A caped figure furnished in blacks and yellows from head-to-toe advanced toward him.

Silence crushed the atmosphere; a timeless silence, one no sound could breach. Whatever was in front of him had made its way toward him, its cape bellowed and touched the vacancy behind. When it finally reached Hassan (who hadn’t yet mastered how to speak while venturing the Astral Plane), the figure spoke,

”When you learn the answer, I will come to you.” it spoke in unison with what seemed to be hundreds of others.

And once again, everything in front of him had compressed and sucked into a single point—but this time it all vanished, and Hassan’s body jerked forward, a victim of nightsweats. His first set of breaths were thin; he was scratching for every morsel of air he could. His alarm clock added its own thoughts on the matter—time for school.
Dropping my interest here for when you all decide to expand the RP.
@Tergonaut I'll collab with you on that.

Mazone fluttered to a cluster of chairs situated near the group he came with. He didn't bother to socialize with any of the patrons--he would feel them out first. The atmosphere of an institution usually marked similar attitudes from its patrons. Mazone watched as the others conversed with the barperson about various dalliances. Meanwhile, he scoped out anyone who looked like she might be trouble. He did take time from his militaristic observances to note the nice interior of the place and could picture himself a regular once he had been here a month or two. For now, he relaxed as much as possible and stayed in plain sight of his companions in case anything went awry.

A song came into his head, he began to belt:

You're the only thing I see
You're the only thing I need
Darling, you and me will be

He held his high note with conviction--even if it wasn't the most technically apt note.

@Yomojo @tex @Patches
In Olympus Academy 24 May 2017 2:13 Forum: Casual Roleplay

Demetrius wised up and went to take care of registering himself so the administration knew he was present and not having someone else sign in for him like he tried to do his first year. Cordial nods were returned to those who addressed him, and he went into the dorm halls to find his place of residence for the upcoming year. He'd hoped his fish had survived the long summer: Mr. and Mrs. Krakken were some feisty goldfish, Mrs. Krakken always bossed Mr. Krakken around, and Demetrius was sure Krakken Jr. had lost all respect for his father. What a dysfunctional family they were. Demetrius tossed some feed in the tank for his beloved trio and got to the business of tidying up his living quarters. There were still some left-over Hawaiian shirts and jean shorts from last year stashed away in his closet. He threw on the brightest Hawaiian shirt he could find (an annoying flush yellow) and frayed jean shorts. A pair of blue flip flip flops finished the outfit and before he knew it he resembled the finest middle-aged, gold-hunting-with-a-metal-detector-on-a-beach man he knew. At least he didn't wear socks and flip flops.

He didn't have a phone so there was little to distract him from the silence of his room apart from the swell of chatter among his peers outside the door. He shut his door for a while and reclined on his bed with hands resting behind his waist length 'locks. The rain hadn't stopped; Demetrius wondered if Athena and his pops were having another argument--or maybe today was Tuesday? He never recalled his dad enjoying Tuesday much. It was all arbitrary either way. Tension was brewing among the Pantheon, and he--and no doubt his siblings--could feel it. Things were about to change, and Demetrius only hoped they changed for the better. Nothing good ever came out of his aunts and uncles fighting one another. Goodness, Demetrius thought, will it ever end?. It wasn't something he could concern himself with right now--all he wanted was some sleep and quiet. A good song always did it for him; he began whistling a sea shanty to himself:

So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
An’ we’ll roll the golden chariot along!
So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
An’ we’ll all hang on behind!

A smile crossed his face as sleep fell over him. A vivid dream about the ocean's deep.
@The One Bet. Xoxox.
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