Auragreedia

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Lost in Translation

@Tlazolteotl@silver21@Stanifly

"Right, that's a mighty fine name you got." He shakes Sirpa's hand firmly, though seemingly unaware of how his hand actually felt against hers. "Still, 'suppose it's the thought that counts."

He still remembers the first time he drank; worst feeling in the world, and he was only 18 or so. Rest of his drunken comrades forgot he probably shouldn't have been drinking... didn't stop them from ordering a shot of whiskey or two for him, though. Tasted like crap, but it's still his favorite drink. Morgan finds himself lost in his thoughts, only to snap back as the man grabs his arm.

"Woah, hey, hey, hey! What the hell d'ya think you're doin'?!" He's half ready to shoot from his seat and punch the man, but he stays still as he realizes what the man is trying to get across.

He can speak.

But no one can hear it?

"What in the goddamn..." He forces his hand back, idly cracking his fingers. He mutters with some annoyance. "So you can speak. Got it."

Teresa pulls up, and he greets her with a forced smile and waves a metal hand. "Well, I just found out our friend 'ere can speak after all. Just can't hear 'im."

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Sorry, just taking awhile to write something, been busy lately! I'll try and get something out tomorrow when I can

(CLOSED) Avatar - Superpower RP

@Jamz All good, you can respond in either 1st or 3rd, honestly I don't mind LOL

(CLOSED) Avatar - Superpower RP

@Jamz Awakening hasn't happened yet, you're gonna be starting this as a normal person. You can think of this like a prologue! I'll let you know once your awakening begins

Necrogenesis: A Not-So-Typical Zombie Outbreak [SHUTTERED]

I'm gonna withdraw from this RP until further notice, I was expecting at least one other player to hop in and played with that expectation, but right now it's just not for me

It's been lovely so far though! your writing style is great, it's just that 1-on-1 isn't what I'm looking for atm

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Lost in Translation

@Tlazolteotl@silver21

"Now that ain't..." Morgan stumbles into silence as he pieces together the bits of information he has. None of this made any goddamn sense. The words, the people, what they said. None of it made a lick of sense. "Right, I, uh. Pardon my lack of cash, but it seems I can't afford of your drinks. 'Scuse me."

He removes himself from the bar, metal hands wiping dust from his pants. He adjusts his collar, blinks a bit. His catharsis wasn't anything like this, so why in the world was this stranger's catharsis so disjointed?

He makes his way back to Sirpa and the man. They're still in the same place, that's good. Morgan pulls out a chair and sits near them.

"Other one left?" He scans the club for Teresa before realizing he never learned anyone's name. Whenever she rendezvoused back to this table, he'd ask. He extends a hand to both Sirpa and the man. "Pardon my untimely introduction, I'm Morgan."

Whether his hand is shaken or not, he continues. He addresses the man next. "This 'cartharsis' of yours, it's a mess. All gibberish, and you're the only guy that doesn't talk. Ain't trying to interrogate you or nothin', just makin' conversation."

"Wanted to buy you two a drink, but," he pinches the bridge of his nose, "ain't nobody 'ere makes sense. Somethin' about cats in trees and car warranties, couldn't make squat out of it."

He could use another drink with all this chaos going around, but he'd rather abstain from 'Premium Shoelace Extract'. Whatever that is.

Dispatch: Welcome to SDN!

Eclipse

SDN Claremont

---

Eclipse was an easy guy to spot, even without his helmet on. While white hair evidently not a rare trait, he was still wearing standard Red Ring colors in a sea of superheroes. Any of his weaponry, aside from his gauntlets, were off until further notice. Something about not being allowed to walk around the office with a weapon. Which was fair, but most the people here were walking weapons considering their powers and all. Whatever, he wouldn't squander a chance to get out of his cell. Starting a fight in a room full of supers was stupid anyways. Plus, he was getting paid.

He squints his eyes, off sulking outside of the waiting room. He was with another villain--red-golden hair and a patterned shirt, though they were both doing their own thing and he was further off in a corner. She was drinking a cappuccino, he was holding his helmet to his chest as he ate Cheetos waiting for something to happen.

His earpiece goes off.

"Morning, Alpha Team. This is your Dispatcher Riley Rider checking in. Since losing Tsunami and Meta-Man last week, we've got new team members joining us. Feel free to say hello and make them feel 'welcome'"

That was a silly name. Actually everyone's name was silly. He was also replacing Tsunami and... Meta-man, of all people. Now that was a dumb hero name. Wonder what happened to them; couldn't have been a villain that took them down, Claremont was much calmer than Torrance. Honestly, he couldn't believe he was eligible for rehabilitation here of all places, but anything to keep him from reconnecting with Red Ring, right?

He swallows his chips, moves a clean hand to his earpiece--

"Hi team, I'm Lightning Girl! I'm an electricity based kind of person.....Riley, please send my apologies to Tsunami and Meta-Man if you don't mind. They uhhh.....I mean, I did tell them I could handle it. I look forward to working with you all, just please don't run in front of me if I'm throwing bolts at baddies! I'm just by the smoking area, good to go when you lot are!"

"K."

Fuck. They talked so much.

And Lightning Girl? Really? He scoffs at the name, only to see someone fly down to the balcony. That was probably her. Superheroes and their theatric, never gets old. And frankly, he was happy he was working with Lightning Girl instead of against. Too much armor. He'd get fried in his suit trying to beat her. Something in his brain clicks--so that's why Tsunami and Meta-man left.

He taps his earpiece to open comms, another hand holding an empty bag.

"Eclipse. Ex-'cook' if you will." He snorts. "Your wish is my command."

Eh, they could probably guess his power. All black, standing off in the darkest corner he could reasonably find. He scratches the back of his neck, another craving. He was starting to miss that drug. Kept him strong. Stronger than now, at least.

Dreamer's Sea: A High School RP inspired by the Persona Series (Dead)

Katsuragi Rin

Masuda High School - Cafeteria
@Haha

---

A notebook is quickly closed. Rin was diligently taking notes throughout the entire lesson. Though, her upperclassmen seemed much less inclined, considering their... laxness. Was this normal? She was online and home-schooled most of her life, her only classmates were names on a screen. It was way easier to get away with slacking when you could just turn off a webcam. The bell ringing is what snaps her back to reality.

Right, lunch.

She stuffs her notebook into her bag. She'd spend most of her lunch writing up an essay draft, Shiro Amakusa seemed the most important figure in the Shimabara Rebellion. Or maybe it was the Shogun. Or Matsukaru Shigeharu? She didn't know. She stumbles her way through the crowded halls, bumping shoulders with other students, though she's quick to flash a mean face. Someone shoves her to the side as they cut their way out of the classroom, Rin barks out an annoyed "Hey!", though it falls on deaf ears.

She makes a quick stop to her locker, dons her signature jacket over her shoulders, and makes her way back to the cafeteria. Technically not allowed, but also not a problem since it was lunch. No teachers or authority to hound her for wearing it; she'd freeze to death otherwise.

Stepping into the cafeteria was an assault of the senses. Crowded. The line for food was long. Lots of chatter. Rin shivers as she tries to find an isolated table.

Well, there was laptop girl who was in Mr. Hagino's class earlier, sitting next to a classmate was a good idea, compared to sitting with a stranger _{even if a classmate and a stranger were technically the same thing considering she never talked to anyone.}

But the girl seemed...

"You lazy fucker! I paid you five hundred dollars to do something simple so I didn't have to, give me my money back or I want those Arcane Crystals in the guild vault by END OF DAY!"

Busy.

She takes another look around: two girls sitting together; one eating a bento, and another eating fish and rice. Also her classmates. They were both sitting quietly, so it seemed like a good study spot, but what if they were friends? Would friends ever sit that quietly in silence? Would it be awkward if she just pulled up to their table and started studying?

After a minute or so of awkwardly strangling her bag strap, she forces herself to sit at Sayaka's table. She had headphones on and seemed engrossed enough in her yelling that she'd probably just ignore Rin if she sat there and worked.

Was it technically a bad study environment? Yes, but Rin grew up with cartoons and sitcoms blasting in the background whenever her mom wasn't home. Which was nearly every day.

She sits a little to Sayaka's left, opening a bento box from her mother, and setting up her notebook to get started on an essay first draft. She shrinks into herself a bit; just avoid eye contact, focus on work, everything will be fine.

◈ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Κάθαρσις ◈

Lost in Translation

@Tlazolteotl

Morgan watches the peculiar interaction unfold. Nothing they were saying made a lick 'o' sense, just nonsense confidently repeated after another statement of... nonsense! He raises an eyebrow at the scene, takes a minute or two to even try to understand what the hell the bartender said to him earlier, and presses his lips into a hard line.

"Right, I," he clears his throat, "I'll go check that third drawer."

He wasn't planning on deciphering whatever code they were speaking in to get a few shots. He scans the venue, specifically whatever was to the left of him, looks over the bar counter to see whatever array of drinks and cabinets were behind the bartender, and squints his eyes. Check the hinges, check the hinges--what the hell did that even mean? He looks over just about every drawer he can find nearby at the bar. Was it supposed to hold some kind of key or secret way out? Was it just a drink as his previous talk with the barkeep implied?

"Whatever I find in this drawer, am I just 'posed to pour the damn thing myself? And pardon my language, I'm..." he pauses for a moment, trying to hide his frustration behind a clean set of words. "I'm new here, y'see. I ain't all that familiar with how this place 'o' yours is ran exactly."

An epiphany crosses his mind, though likely irrelevant to the bartender. The mute man's catharsis--he's only person unable to speak. Seemed more sensible from his gestures, compared to the odd jargon the people spoke. Of what importance this had, though, was lost on Morgan's mind. Perhaps the man's catharsis had to do with isolation? Abandonment? Some kind of messed up representation of his 'subconscious' or whatever the hell his old psychology friend called it?

Morgan flicks his gaze back to the bartender, brows furrowed. Did these people look like anyone specific? Important?

(CLOSED) Avatar - Superpower RP

A FAMILY VISIT

6/15 - Your Parents' House
@Jamz

---

Your parents were more... restrictive than other's. They had an image to uphold--they were a fanciful, scholarly kind of family that cared little for anything besides their reputation. It was unfortunate that their only child couldn't fit into their rigid ideals; more a burden than 'someone to uphold the family legacy'. Newer kinds of music: electronic, rap, pop, and anything of the sort was, to put it frankly, your parent's worst nightmare. To them, it was a sad substitute of the classics; just made on a computer, there was no glory in it. Faded memories replay in your head; lost and rejected for showing an ounce of interest outside of whatever your parents chose for you.

It's a breezy summer morning, you sit outside on the porch, sitting in a well-made wooden chair, staring at bland, albeit somewhat classy suburban homes. It smells like fresh lawn, with a hint of gasoline lingering in the air. Not many clouds out in the sky either, and your neighbors seem to be quiet at this time of day.

"Oh, please," you hear your father on the phone, talking to someone; probably some big-shot in the classical scene or just your mother who was away for the moment, "It's pathetic! No effort in their studies at all!"

Excluding your father, of course.

"Wasted years of my life teaching.... Such a failure!" a door slams shut, a voice now muffled.

A cat watches you from a distance, sits in your yard and stares with anticipating eyes. It's been like that for some time now. A notification pops up on your phone, probably a stream reminder or update on your channel.

The cat begins to creep closer toward you.