Atrophy

Beyond the Storms

@Mercenary LordNormally I'd be trumpeting for people to get together and do collabs over short posts because I enjoy digging into a big, juicy post with plenty of meat, but with it just being the few of us I can see how doing collabs would be kind of pointless and exclusionary. Short posts are a-ok with me.

Beyond the Storms

@Vicier

Unbiased summary

Our ragtag group of adventurers board the UIS Garrloch after taking the drop from the floating isles. Some of them there because they have to be for their job, some are there to escape or find fortune, and some of them are even there just for the thrills. Whatever their reason is, they all gathered on the deck for the departure before being quickly shepherded inside by the bark of Captain Conway over the intercom. Their voyage takes them right underneath the Ring of Thunder, and we get to see for the first time how our adventurers (we’ll call them the Boat Party from here on out) react to crisis as thunder strikes set fire to the ship that is followed by a damn big wave. Some fight the fire, some try to save others from drowning, and some clutch to the lapels of the Captain while screaming like a baby.

We won’t be pointing fingers here.

The Boat Party survived, for better or for worse, and were greeted with blue skies and endless ocean which, after spending their entire life surrounded by dark clouds, was rather breathtaking. While some were busy patching up the ship and/or others, a small group took a tour in our lovely, if noisy, VTOL. From the skies they saw land, which made everybody very excited because after a while nothing but water can get rather tedious. The UIS Garrloch made haste for the island and the Boat Party went ashore to explore, or rather, to camp out, throw a shore party, and get drunk. It was all going very well until a noise was heard from the bushes and some idiot decided that they should go check it out.

Again, we won’t say that the idiot was Constance, but if we did we would have to mention that Luna was also totally onboard and is totally to blame for what happened next.

The Shore Party (aka the group formerly known as the Boat Party), found that the source of the noise was a man from the boat, or more specifically the screams of a man from their boat as he was getting dragged away into a dark cave by something big and shadowy. Somebody decided to be a hero and lead the others into the cave to go rescue the man, only to lead the Shore Party straight into the lair of a big old mean pseudo-sabretooth tiger. The Shore Party, being respectful of nature, tried to kill that beast because it was totally going to eat them, but if not for a well-timed intervention by Captain Conway and crew and a load of gunfire then they would’ve ended up being catfood. Conway and some of the Shore Party, namely Eddy, ventured further into the cave, leaving behind some people, namely Luna, to care for the wounded, namely Constance.

Again, we aren’t pointing fingers, but Eddy totally left behind a wounded lady, and I’m most certainly not trying to intentionally paint him in a poor light for doing so.

Anyway, the uncouth jerks who just left the injured behind (to be cared for by a highly qualified nurse) discovered a bizarre cube in the cave that, when pressed, projected a map of places unknown. The Shore Party went back to the boat and, the next day, regrouped to talk.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

I think we should be able to work with either of those ideas. The only problem I see is a small one—the islands all of our characters come from are floating ones and thoroughly discovered, the ones we are exploring are normal islands outside of our home that until recently was impossible to leave. That said, I think we already have established that our characters are not the only explorers from the floating isles, so it is entirely possible that your character was part of another expedition that went sideways. Alternatively, I don't actually know if the "normal" islands are inhabited by humans or not, so maybe you could work something out with @Mercenary Lord if you're married to the idea.

Beyond the Storms

@VicierI'll work on that summary. What's the character idea?

Beyond the Storms

@VicierI'm not the boss man, but we're still happy to take aboard newcomers. We're down a handful of players and may move a little slow at times, but Caits, Mercenary Lord, and I have all but made a blood pact to keep this puppy going. By my judgment I'd say we're still in the "early" phase of the RP and haven't kicked off on any new adventure yet, so now would be a pretty good time to join in. If you have any questions or need a summary of the events so far then just let us know!

@CaitsHave I ever mentioned how much I enjoy Luna taking absolutely zero of Constance's BS? I had the dumbest grin on my face while reading that post.

House Wars and Blood Feuds In Old Venara

@ZverdaNothing like getting off of a pretty mediocre day at work to see a bright, shiny, new post waiting to be read _{only to find that it's a placeholder :(}

House Wars and Blood Feuds In Old Venara

@Zverda"BUT I WANNA GO HOME!"

Oh, wait...

House Wars and Blood Feuds In Old Venara

Juniper Delorano

_{"makes an ass out of herself, again."}

---

Since her mother’s death, the act of having family dinners had always been a point of contention between Juniper and her father. She was quite fine with eating in her room, alone, unbothered, where she wouldn’t have to make small talk with her aunt and cousin as they pretended to give a single shit about how her day had been, and she wouldn’t have to lie and say that it had been fine—it was unbecoming of a lady to complain, or so her tutor had said, but apparently dishonesty was considered an attractive trait. She didn’t have to worry about where she was to put her elbows, or which fork she was to use, or how high she had to count before she could take another bite. Yet father would not allow her to skip out on their tradition, and so she would shake the silverware as she stomped into the dining room and slouched into her seat, muttering ungrateful words under her breath before eating a few bites of her meal and quietly excusing herself when her father was distracted by another. The only exception to this rule came when it was only Juniper and Leon attending dinner; then it was just shouting matches, slamming doors, and going to bed hungry. Now, never again.

Juniper had entered the dining room in silence with her head hung low, her arms wrapped around her body as if she was afraid she would fall into pieces if not for them holding her together. She had sunken into her usual chair, the one that was far enough from the head that one would have to raise their voice to address her, and worked on making herself as small as possible in it until she disappeared entirely. Eventually she found a way to make herself little more than a black dress with white, gawky arms and a mess of brown hair and red eyes resting her chin on her knees. No sound came from her corner except the occasional muted sniffle or the scrap of a fork on a plate as she moved food around, none of it ever coming even close to going into her mouth.

I don’t want to be here.

How long would it take before one of them felt obliged to come over to her, squeeze her on the shoulder, and lie through their fucking teeth while saying that everything would be alright? Would she be able to even try to force a smile, or a nod, or even make a noise of some acknowledgment that didn’t come out in the form of an ear-shattering shriek accompanied by the orchestra of her plate crashing against the wall? Would she be able to stop herself from diving a fork into their flesh and, if she did, would they then leave her alone? I want to go. Nobody would blame her for just leaving, nobody would dare to even try. Yet if she got up she would draw attention to herself, and right now she wanted to be nothing more than invisible, forgotten, nonexistent.

I should just go.

A sword clattered on the table and she jumped, her chair rocking precociously backwards before it found all four of its feet again. Juniper watched as the red wine pooled out from the pitcher, the liquid seeping into and creeping across the tablecloth as it darkened into a deep red like that of dried blood. Her eyes went wide and she felt her breath catch in her throat as her body went rigid, her knuckles white on her knees as her heart hammered against her chest. She had seen him, her father, lying on that table, carved up like their meal, his body contorted into an impossible position, his face frozen in a look of horror, his blood pooling around him, staining the tablecloth, staining Mother’s favorite tablecloth. The sound of Mel’s voice as it broke the silence as broke the phantasm, and Juniper’s eyes fell to the floor lest she caught someone staring at her.

From the floor she followed Nalia’s feet as they approached the head of the table, her body bristling as her older sister sat in her father’s chair. Juniper didn’t care what the will said, she didn’t care that Nalia was the new head of their house, that was father’s chair, not her chair, just like how her aunt’s chair was not her aunt’s but her mother’s. They should remain vacant; there was no filling them. The tension from her fright did not soften as Nalia began to speak, already falling so easily into the role that had been left for her. She had always been so good at commanding the respect and attention of others, and it was only natural that she should be the next head of house.

Still, that doesn’t mean that she had to sit in his fucking chair, not the same fucking day they had f—Juniper took a deep breath. She had to trust that her sister knew what she was doing. Nalia was smart, she wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize their house—are you fucking kidding me, Lorenzo? Does that mean he’d lead us if Nalia dies?

Juniper could understand her sister not picking her, no way would she be able to deal with the responsibility needed, but it should’ve been Lucien. Juniper stared in horror, her jaw slack, as her own brother kowtowed to their sister’s colossal mistake. If not Lucien than certainly Pieter would’ve been a better option. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t really their blood, he was more family than Lorenzo. Their cousin might share their surname, but he was a Gatterro bastard through and through. He even wore their crest on that damn armor of which he was so damn proud. Plus, he was a creep; how much of their estate would he throw away in an attempt to lure in another woman into his bed? She watched with daggers in her eyes as her aunt squeezed her son’s shoulder. No, no, no, this isn’t what Father would’ve done. This is wrong, wrong, wrong.

I’m gone.

The young woman came up fast and her hands came down faster, the plates on the table rattling as she hit it with a sharp bang. Her chair had lost its balance in her upswing, and it hit the floor with a heavy, loud thud. She looked down the table, new tears forming in her bloodshot eyes as she fixed Nalia with a challenging staredown. Her sister had asked that they try and enjoy their meal in relative peace but, well, Juniper never really was good at any family dinners.

She was prepared to give her stupid sister a piece of her mind, ready to unleash a verbal assault on all of them for being okay with all of this shit, and she was certain that her sister could tell by the look on Juniper’s face that a storm was about to come in. Yet then Juniper saw the stares of the rest of the house looking back at her, some seemingly surprised to see that she had even been in the room. Her head dropped quickly, and with it so too did the winds of fury die down as her cheeks went as red as the puffs around her eyes. So she had been pretty much invisible. Well, isn’t that just typical?

“May I go?” she said, her voice hoarse and shaky, refusing to look at anyone in the room, her arms once again wrapping around her body like a suit of armor. “Obviously I’m not needed here, so…can I go?”

House Wars and Blood Feuds In Old Venara

Name: Juniper Delorano

_{"Junie, mom would call me, or Junebug. I never really liked the nicknames, but what I would give to hear them again."}

Age: 15

_{"Old enough to know better but young enough to be ignored."}

Sex: Female

_{"If things hadn't changed in Old Venara I probably would've been shipped off to marry some third son of some rival house that I had never met before."}

Race: Human

_{"Doesn't change the fact the people look at me as if I were an Umbrakin."}

Appearance:

Juniper

While Juniper has some of the traits of her family, she feels as if she got the ones that were meant to be left behind on the cutting floor. Her body has seemingly only grown upwards, and with her narrow hips and gangly arms she looks more like a child that has been stretched on a rack rather than a young woman. Her brown, dry hair is chopped just beneath her chin, and it seemingly cannot decide if it would rather lay straight or curl up. Her brown eyes are bloodshot and baggy, and almost always looks as if she had just finished up having a nice, long cry. Her skin is pale but, unlike her aunt or her sister, her fair complexion has been fighting a long, tiresome war of attrition with the dark forces of puberty, and while the acne outbreaks have finally seemed to retreat in force evidence of lost battles can still be seen dotting her cheeks and forehead. For someone who claims that she doesn’t give a damn about how she looks, Juniper spends quite a lot of time preening herself in mirrors and tends to wear clothes that are less revealing (because she fears that then people would see the already obvious fact that she has nothing to reveal).

_{“I’m glad I’m not pretty. Unlike my sister, I don’t have to worry that the men who try and spill my family’s blood in the streets will also try to get me to spread my legs underneath their sheets.”}

Personality: According to Juniper’s tutor, a noble lady should be polite, caring, and patient. How he came to this horseshit conclusion Juniper cannot say, but it only serves as the ammo she needs to convince herself that it is much more wise to act the way she does. Although young, Juniper has mastered the fine art of being discourteous and disrespectful, knows more foul words than even the saltiest of sailors, and can easily hold a grudge that, if she were an elf, could imaginably outlast even the longest of Blood Feuds. She’s rather sick of how everyone in Old Venara loves putting on airs and refuses to play her part in their pageantry, and has grown even more distant and moody after the death of her parents. In other words, although she shies away from being a model young lady, she’s quite happy with falling into the typical trappings of being a shitty, envious, self-centered teenager.

_{“I might be the only good person that I know, but that’s like saying I’m the only good singer in a room full of deaf-mutes.”}

Biography: Juniper will forever be the baby of the family, even if she has begun to spoil like forgotten milk as she has aged. She did not get to spend much time with her siblings thanks to the gap in their age, although she had certainly tried to tag-along when she could. Still, even in her happiest childhood memories of her siblings, which are few and far between, she can only remember herself as being an outside observer, a tiny pair of eyes peeking out from behind a closed window or as a stumbling pair of small feet unable to keep up with them as they ran ahead to the pier. Yet, despite not being part of their clique, Juniper felt that she was the one who got punished for the mistakes of her siblings. Nalia may have been the one wounded by the blade of an enemy or Lucien may have been the one to stow away on a ship, but it was Juniper who was kept under lock in their manor lest she tried to imitate her brother or sister.

During these times the only person in her family that she was really close with was her mother. Her father was there, yes, and he saw to it that she was educated and sheltered, but he was busy a man. It was her mother that nurtured her, that told her that she was sweet, that she was smart, that she was special, and in a way she was, spending most of her time cooped up in her home with plenty of time to toy with her hobbies when she wasn’t throwing a fit or being moody. Yet while Juniper was kept sheltered from the plague, her mother was not. Her father, fearful that his daughter might catch the disease that ate away at his wife, kept her barred from visiting her mother as she faded away and, inevitably, succumbed to the sickness.

It strained their already tepid relationship. She needed someone to blame for her mother’s death, and she couldn’t blame the plague—you don’t curse the axle of a wagon when it breaks and makes you late to a soiree, you curse the driver. During the years after her mother’s death, she and her father often butted heads over even the smallest of things. Servants could determine the location of Juniper at all times by following the slamming of doors and the rattling of china, and the prolonged absence of these noises often would put the house on alert, because it meant that the youngest daughter of their lord had yet again snuck out while under their watch. Still, she did not truly hate her father; it’s a shame she had to become an orphan to realize that.

Now, Juniper finds herself without the mother who cared for her or the father that sheltered her, her life hung in an uncertain balance that is to be determined by relatives that are more strangers to her than anything else.

_{“I’m trying to look on the brighter side of things since Father’s death. For starters, the odds of me seeing Mother sooner rather than later has jumped greatly.”}

Position In House Delorano: 4th child and youngest daughter of Leon Delorano.

_{"Although I think they tend to treat me more like a door mat in the way that they otherwise ignore me except for the times that they need something on which to wipe off the shit on their boots."}

Equipment: Juniper is never seen without her mother's hand-me-down hair clip except for when she sleeps. Even when she's home the girl keeps a set of lock picks and a small letter opener tucked safely away in her garter, and she has three pistols and the key to her father's gun case stashed away in a lock box beneath her bed in case she ever needs to go out.

_{"Father wanted me to never need to carry a weapon because he wished I would live a life that had no need for such things. The others want me to never carry a weapon because they think that I'll end up shooting my eye out.”}

Skills:
Racial: Human, +1 to chosen field (Gunnery)

_{"Thankfully, there's enough ambient gunfire echoing through the city these days that nobody pays mind when a shot rings out, even in their backyard."}

Gifted: Gunnery +4, Athleticism +4

_{"I can run further and faster than my siblings or my cousin, yet I am the one who's a slugabed according to my beloved aunt."}

Above Average: Brawling +3, Skulduggery +3, Reputation +3

_{"I may not be anywhere near as good with a blade as my brother or sister, but who needs to be when I can just mention their names to get my way? And if that doesn't do the job, well, I'm not above a using a few dirty tricks."}

Deficient: Acumen -2, Grace -2

_{"I don't need others to help me, and I'm so sick of this little masquerade our houses all play with each other. I rather we all just be honest with each other instead of acting nice—and no, this isn't all because I embarrassed myself at the last dance, fuck!}

Unlisted: Soldiery, Archery, Dueling

_{"I get it. Some people are tied to the old ways. I'm sure there's some value in knowing how to swing around a hunk of wood and metal but, well, us smart people have guns. Okay, I guess I don't get it.}

House Wars and Blood Feuds In Old Venara

@Big DreadWord! Thanks boss. Should have one up later tonight.

@Sypherkhode822I figured Papa Leon would have enough guns around the house that a child with enough determination could get there hands on like in one of those old PSA videos where they always end up shooting themselves in the face. As for lock picking, well, hmm...maybe we should talk about her past with Pieter.

House Wars and Blood Feuds In Old Venara

@Big DreadOh, well, since you asked, I just happen to have this character sheet that I certainly wasn't plucking away at for sometime now.

The Fourth Child

Name: Juniper Delorano

_{"Junie, mom would call me, or Junebug. I never really liked the nicknames, but what I would give to hear them again."}

Age: 15

_{"Old enough to know better but young enough to be ignored."}

Sex: Female

_{"If things hadn't changed in Old Venara I probably would've been shipped off to marry some third son of some rival house that I had never met before."}

Race: Human

_{"Doesn't change the fact the people look at me as if I were an Umbrakin."}

Appearance:

Juniper

While Juniper has some of the traits of her family, she feels as if she got the ones that were meant to be left behind on the cutting floor. Her body has seemingly only grown upwards, and with her narrow hips and gangly arms she looks more like a child that has been stretched on a rack rather than a young woman. Her brown, dry hair is chopped just beneath her chin, and it seemingly cannot decide if it would rather lay straight or curl up. Her brown eyes are bloodshot and baggy, and almost always looks as if she had just finished up having a nice, long cry. Her skin is pale but, unlike her aunt or her sister, her fair complexion has been fighting a long, tiresome war of attrition with the dark forces of puberty, and while the acne outbreaks have finally seemed to retreat in force evidence of lost battles can still be seen dotting her cheeks and forehead. For someone who claims that she doesn’t give a damn about how she looks, Juniper spends quite a lot of time preening herself in mirrors and tends to wear clothes that are less revealing (because she fears that then people would see the already obvious fact that she has nothing to reveal).

_{“I’m glad I’m not pretty. Unlike my sister, I don’t have to worry that the men who try and spill my family’s blood in the streets will also try to get me to spread my legs underneath their sheets.”}

Personality: According to Juniper’s tutor, a noble lady should be polite, caring, and patient. How he came to this horseshit conclusion Juniper cannot say, but it only serves as the ammo she needs to convince herself that it is much more wise to act the way she does. Although young, Juniper has mastered the fine art of being discourteous and disrespectful, knows more foul words than even the saltiest of sailors, and can easily hold a grudge that, if she were an elf, could imaginably outlast even the longest of Blood Feuds. She’s rather sick of how everyone in Old Venara loves putting on airs and refuses to play her part in their pageantry, and has grown even more distant and moody after the death of her parents. In other words, although she shies away from being a model young lady, she’s quite happy with falling into the typical trappings of being a shitty, envious, self-centered teenager.

_{“I might be the only good person that I know, but that’s like saying I’m the only good singer in a room full of deaf-mutes.”}

Biography: Juniper will forever be the baby of the family, even if she has begun to spoil like forgotten milk as she has aged. She did not get to spend much time with her siblings thanks to the gap in their age, although she had certainly tried to tag-along when she could. Still, even in her happiest childhood memories of her siblings, which are few and far between, she can only remember herself as being an outside observer, a tiny pair of eyes peeking out from behind a closed window or as a stumbling pair of small feet unable to keep up with them as they ran ahead to the pier. Yet, despite not being part of their clique, Juniper felt that she was the one who got punished for the mistakes of her siblings. Nalia may have been the one wounded by the blade of an enemy or Lucien may have been the one to stow away on a ship, but it was Juniper who was kept under lock in their manor lest she tried to imitate her brother or sister.

During these times the only person in her family that she was really close with was her mother. Her father was there, yes, and he saw to it that she was educated and sheltered, but he was busy a man. It was her mother that nurtured her, that told her that she was sweet, that she was smart, that she was special, and in a way she was, spending most of her time cooped up in her home with plenty of time to toy with her hobbies when she wasn’t throwing a fit or being moody. Yet while Juniper was kept sheltered from the plague, her mother was not. Her father, fearful that his daughter might catch the disease that ate away at his wife, kept her barred from visiting her mother as she faded away and, inevitably, succumbed to the sickness.

It strained their already tepid relationship. She needed someone to blame for her mother’s death, and she couldn’t blame the plague—you don’t curse the axle of a wagon when it breaks and makes you late to a soiree, you curse the driver. During the years after her mother’s death, she and her father often butted heads over even the smallest of things. Servants could determine the location of Juniper at all times by following the slamming of doors and the rattling of china, and the prolonged absence of these noises often would put the house on alert, because it meant that the youngest daughter of their lord had yet again snuck out while under their watch. Still, she did not truly hate her father; it’s a shame she had to become an orphan to realize that.

Now, Juniper finds herself without the mother who cared for her or the father that sheltered her, her life hung in an uncertain balance that is to be determined by relatives that are more strangers to her than anything else.

_{“I’m trying to look on the brighter side of things since Father’s death. For starters, the odds of me seeing Mother sooner rather than later has jumped greatly.”}

Position In House Delorano: 4th child and youngest daughter of Leon Delorano.

_{"Although I think they tend to treat me more like a door mat in the way that they otherwise ignore me except for the times that they need something on which to wipe off the shit on their boots."}

Equipment: Juniper is never seen without her mother's hand-me-down hair clip except for when she sleeps. Even when she's home the girl keeps a set of lock picks and a small letter opener tucked safely away in her garter, and she has three pistols and the key to her father's gun case stashed away in a lock box beneath her bed in case she ever needs to go out.

_{"Father wanted me to never need to carry a weapon because he wished I would live a life that had no need for such things. The others want me to never carry a weapon because they think that I'll end up shooting my eye out.”}

Skills:
Racial: Human, +1 to chosen field (Gunnery)

_{"Thankfully, there's enough ambient gunfire echoing through the city these days that nobody pays mind when a shot rings out, even in their backyard."}

Gifted: Gunnery +4, Athleticism +4

_{"I can run further and faster than my siblings or my cousin, yet I am the one who's a slugabed according to my beloved aunt."}

Above Average: Brawling +3, Skulduggery +3, Reputation +3

_{"I may not be anywhere near as good with a blade as my brother or sister, but who needs to be when I can just mention their names to get my way? And if that doesn't do the job, well, I'm not above a using a few dirty tricks."}

Deficient: Acumen -2, Grace -2

_{"I don't need others to help me, and I'm so sick of this little masquerade our houses all play with each other. I rather we all just be honest with each other instead of acting nice—and no, this isn't all because I embarrassed myself at the last dance, fuck!}

Unlisted: Soldiery, Archery, Dueling

_{"I get it. Some people are tied to the old ways. I'm sure there's some value in knowing how to swing around a hunk of wood and metal but, well, us smart people have guns. Okay, I guess I don't get it.}

Lemme know if anything I put in there conflicts with already established facts; I think I double-checked the other character sheets to make sure I didn't bone anything up, but it's not completely impossible.