Aurkanthis

Misfits: Rise of the Delinquents (Closed)

Yes. Writing for either person, however, requires restraint and extra creativity to get the result you actually want, while preserving another person's character. Even describing it is tricky. I'm not confident I'm being clear even now haha.

In your case, you may need to run things by people first. Yay, for collaboration!

Misfits: Rise of the Delinquents (Closed)

You weren't kidding. It's not easy to make sure what I mean for Aksel's ability to come through clearly either. @Azure Bubbles

The Hollow: a Pixie Hollow inspired roleplay

🌿 🔥 Caelum Emberhart 🔥 🌿

@Adeline

---

“Yes…” Magnolia replied softly. “Having to face this… thing alone would be impossible.” She chuckled nervously and lowered her gaze to her feet, fidgeting all the while.

Caelum maintained his soft smile and focused ahead, allowing his stride to match hers.

She hadn’t quite caught his meaning, but she wasn’t wrong—not in the slightest. He didn’t have the faintest idea what the ash they were going to have to do, or endure, but there was no sense agonizing over the unknowable. Not now. Not when there was such good company to enjoy. Good company, and a pleasant nighttime stroll.

“Yes,” he replied, warm and low. “It would be quite the daunting task.”

Clearly, the pair could have reached the lagoon much faster if they’d chosen to engage their wings. But the fairy at his side wanted to walk—and honestly, so did he. It was nice to enjoy the beauty of the night, slowly, and with more company than just himself or the flame of his lantern.

After a few brief stops at lanterns in need of mild attention, the two arrived near the edge of the lagoon some minutes later. Caelum turned his head to Magnolia as they padded closer to the water’s edge. His house was now only a stone’s throw away. Hers, still a fair distance across the lagoon—further still if one were to follow the bank.

Caelum could almost make out the faint impressions of Loke and Muricle’s joyful steps, still embedded in the moist earth below. They had passed through mere hours ago—though somehow, it already felt much longer.

“Well,” Caelum said, finally ending the peaceful hush. “Here’s me…" he gestured to his small hollow. "If you don’t mind, I will just gather a few things of mine. Then, we will go break the news to Muricle—together. We can then grab whatever you want to bring along, too… He trailed off for a moment. "Or, we can just meet back at the hall…”

He trailed off again, suddenly uncertain. He had always been so… resigned.

This feeling, however... was new, strange—and exciting.

Misfits: Rise of the Delinquents (Closed)

@Azure BubblesReading your post, I just got this great idea for when Aksel first experiences Sky's ability.

Underworld: Forgotten

@KactusPunch how do you mean?

Underworld: Forgotten

@Adeline

Wow I really seem to know how to pick 'em for you. XD

Underworld: Forgotten

OOOOOOOOOOOOOkay. What do you all think of my human?

---

Me after finishing the sheet: "Lucian! It is finished."
Also me afterwards: "No... this is just the beginning."
#IYKYK

Underworld: Forgotten

JASON

Name: Jason Blackwood
Species: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 28

Occupation: PhD Candidate in History / Bartender

Conflict Exposure: Suspicious

Affiliation(s): Civilian / Academia

Appearance:

Face Claim: Logan Lerman

Jason stands at around 5'11" with a lean build that was shaped by walking and lifting crates rather than athleticism. Jason has dark brown hair, often tousled and uneven from trimming it himself. His hazel eyes often shift with the light. He wears layers of dark tones: usually thrifted coats, worn boots, and neutral shirts. He avoids anything flashy or branded. He carries himself with quiet confidence—present, but never loud. People don’t always notice him walk in, but they usually remember he was there.

History:

Born in California and raised near the coast, Jason grew up surrounded by fog, salt air, and the stories his grandfather told about war—some grounded, some seemingly less so. He spent his childhood sketching maps, collecting crystals, stones, and shells, while often asking questions no one could answer. The ocean was always nearby, and so was the feeling that something ancient lived within its depths.

At the University of Washington, he studied history—drawn to resistance movements and the folklore that surrounded them. He kept notebooks full of symbols and dreams, some from research, some from sleep. During his third year, he lost someone close—a friend who vanished without explanation. It left him hollow, searching for meaning in patterns and silence. He doesn’t talk about it. But it changed the way he reads everything—and everyone.

Six months ago, he arrived in Paris on a research fellowship to complete his dissertation. He bartends most nights at a quiet jazz bar near Montmartre to cover expenses. One late afternoon, walking from the university to the bar, he saw two figures in a narrow alley near a shuttered book store he always passed. One was standing, the other kneeling. The exchange was silent, deliberate, and brief. Later, he recognized the same posture in resistance-era sketches, and in art from other centuries. He hasn’t made the connection yet. But it lingers.

Motivations:

– To feel something real again
– To choose who he is, not just who he’s been
– To understand why he’s drawn to things he shouldn’t believe in
– To finally prove to himself whether or not there is any truth behind legends—if myth is not always metaphor

Misfits: Rise of the Delinquents (Closed)

ᚠᚢᚦ Aksel ᚱᚴᚾ

---

“I’m fine, I’m alright,” the girl finally managed. “It’s just my head,” she added, now with a trembling breath.

Obviously it was her head. More than that, however, Aksel could inherently feel how true that was. It was like experiencing all of the agony, without any of the debilitating pain; which was fortunate, as he was struggling with his own physical ailments as well.

Regardless, he could tell that she was not being totally honest. Aksel had always been exceptionally attuned to the tiny things people did or said that gave away a lot of emotional truth. Information people were not meaning to give away. Right now, he could feel something completely different than what she was trying to convey. Not that it provided new information. Though, it was nice to have immediate confirmation on a guess for once. Instinctively, his arms drew her closer, guiding her head to rest against him. He didn’t register the movement, only the quiet shift it caused inside him—like easing pressure he hadn’t known was there.

“I’m Anastasiya,” the girl barely managed to say. “You’re Aksel, right?”

He looked over to the girl in his arms. He was now able to carry her a bit steadier now that her head was not awkwardly cradled in the crook of an arm. He gradually adjusted his grip as she shifted into a better position for them both.

“Thank you… for getting me out of there.”

While grateful to no longer needing to carry dead weight, every movement she made gave him a pang of… anxiety? He couldn’t say if that was right or not, but he did know his concern for her well-being—or something akin to it—spiked heavily with each slight motion.

“And no ambulance, please,” she added somewhat sternly, “Really, it was just a hit.”

Was this girl mad?

She let out a stuttering breath. He would have to be blind and deaf to believe she was as fine as she claimed.

However… even if he were blind and deaf…

Aksel was beginning to believe that he might be able to sense the truth of her even without sight or sound.

“Alright, Anastasiya,” he said as warmly and gently as he could under the circumstances. “No ambulance.” He forced a sincere smile. Understanding on his face, even though comprehension remained absent from his mind.

Aksel nodded his appreciation to JJ as he squeezed himself and the girl past him and into the building.

"On second thought," he muttered as they passed. "Don't call emergency just yet." His voice was low, but the earnest plea in his eyes said the rest.

He had crossed a literal threshold, yes, but this felt like a much greater achievement. Now to find somewhere to lie her down and check her injuries—and everyone else’s while he was at it.

The Hollow: a Pixie Hollow inspired roleplay

🌿 🔥 Caelum Emberhart 🔥 🌿

@Adeline

---

Caelum glanced to Magnolia as she spoke. He briefly looked ahead when she finished, then slowly shifted his gaze back to hers once more.

“Afraid?” Caelum echoed warmly, the slightest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Of course not. What could there be to fear?” He turned slightly, guiding her gaze toward the brilliant, warm glow that emanated from the heart of his mottled wings.

“Honestly?” he said even softer, gaze lowering. “Yeah…” Then, in almost a whisper: “I am terrified.” The ember glow of his wings remained cold.

The sparrowman let his words linger as he continued on beside the fairy, absorbing every peaceful moment with her that he could. He had no clue what was to come, but he doubted it would be like it had that morning anytime soon… or, possibly, ever again.

Caelum looked forward again, steeling himself as best he could. Then he glanced back to Magnolia. A gentle smile returned the moment he laid eyes on her face.

“At least… I won’t have to go alone.”