Recent Statuses

6 mos ago
Current therapy sounds like a good investment
1 like
10 mos ago
everyone shut up im playing kingdom hearts 3
1 yr ago
back on my bullshit!
1 yr ago
hmm i should get back into this rp thing...
2 yrs ago
1 like


i like to rp. that's really all there is to say.

Most Recent Posts

Age: 142
Height: 5'8"
Species: Kitsune -- Sound Family
Physical Abnormalities: 3, 6, 9, damn she fine.
Kitsune Traits:
  • Shapeshifting
    • Kiko is able to shift between fox and human forms at will, holding either one indefinitely. She will however revert to her fox form when seriously injured or under great distress.
  • Fox Fire
    • Kiko can summon floating orbs of blue fire that have a mild hypnotizing affect on those who see them and drawing them towards it.
  • Sound-Based Illusion
    • As a kitsune from the Sound family, Kiko specializes in sound-illusions. Her singing voice also has a similar hypnotic effect as her fire.
  • Soul Pearl
    • Like all kitsune, Kiko's soul is held in a large white pearl that hangs on an iron chain around her neck. Separation from her pearl for an extended period of time would be fatal.
  • Longevity
    • Though Kiko is about as strong as the average human and just as prone to injury, kitsune are difficult to kill. She can heal at a slightly accelerated rate, and she reverts to her fox form to recover from injuries that would be otherwise fatal.
Kiri Hae

Interactions: N/A
Location: Where She Doesn't Belong

Kiri’s staff cut through the air, readying a blow. But she was too late. Samael was gone. Then the portal swallowed Kiri whole.

The next few moments were a blur. Suddenly Kiri was immovable and fluid at once, not able to control her body and helpless to the push and pull around her. Flits of lights and color appeared and disappeared, strange phantom images that she couldn't make out. And then it was over.

Kiri's staff cut through the air. Samael was gone. Instead, it moved through open space. Kiri blinked at this new reality, fighting to right herself, stop her own momentum. The air caught in her lungs, thick and wrong. She took in a breath, stopped short.

Something enormous shot past her -- white light that grew until it blinded her only to disappear a second later, a roar like thunder that vibrated her very bones, wind blowing her clumps of hair and her filthy crimson cloak after it with such force that it knocked Kiri off balance, her footing uneven on the hard, smooth ground. A smell like smoke hit her face. Kiri inhaled to cough only to find she couldn't get enough air in.

She was six years old, bone thin and pale, sitting up in bed in the dim light of her room, stuggling to breathe as a nurse rubbed her back and held hot tea up to her face, she was wheezing coughing shecouldn'tbreathe--

That same grinding roar sounded again, paired with what sounded like a blaring horn, growing in volume and pitch. Kiri spun, still unsteady, in time to see another bright monstrocity shoot past her. She stumbled back, knuckles white around her staff. Just like before, the light disappeared, the raucous cries growing softer and lower again. There was the sound of someone -- a human -- shouting but Kiri couldn't make out the words.

Another roar. Another horn. Kiri looked up, squinting at bright white light on the face of something as tall as a horse and four times as wide. It was charging straight for her. Kiri's staff shot up across her chest. She tried to jump to the side, just as it swerved in the opposite direction, letting out a high pitched screech. It curved around her before speeding off and Kiri stumbled back. Again, there was that wave of dirt and smoke. Kiri coughed, pressure growing in her chest. She took another step back. The soaking red cloak wrapped around her legs. Her heel hit something hard -- a raised section of the ground, like a stone step -- and Kiri fell back, her spine landing hard against what felt like smooth brick. Her head cracked against the ground.

Kiri gasped -- or she tried to. She laid on the ground, aching, soaked through with mud, blood, sweat, and rotting remains of the battle that wasn't done yet -- she had to get up, she had to keep going she --

She coughed. Kiri tried to breathe in but her chest was tight, under some crushing phantom weight, and she couldn't manage more than a few whisps of thick air. She couldn't stop coughing. Her vision started to swim as she stared up at the sky. There were lights all around her, shining off of smooth metalic cliff-faces -- buildings, or strutures, or --

Her breath escaped her chest with a small, shaking wheeze. She hadn't made that sound in years.

No no no nonononononono

Not again, she was better than this, she'd outgrown this. Her grip tightened around her staff where it'd been thrown to her side. Coughs continued to wrack her body and she squeezed her eyes shut. What was this? A spell? Samael had dones something to her, had made her --

Another wheeze. It was happening almost every breath now, her head swimming from the lack of air. She had to... she just had to get through this. Her frantic mind grasped at memories. She'd had these episodes hundred of times before.

Hot tea. Slow breaths. Meditation. Her nurse's ointment.

The soft sheets of her bed wrinkled in her tiny fists.

Light filtering through the seam where her curtains didn't quite meet.

Her uncle telling her to straighten up, put her hands on top of her head, slow her heart rate.

Her father's voice echoing over the sound of her coughing, ordering that she be taken back to her room.

Tears sprung to her eyes as another wave of coughing overtook her. The roar of those things that'd nearly run her over faded into the background, over taken by the sound of Kiri's frantic heart and the weak sound of her breath.
hey all, i'm always in the mood for a pokemon rp and was wondering if there was still room in here?
Haven sat in one of Lavaridge's parks, stretching out under the sun. Goddamn, it was hot. Of course, the sweater she refused to take off didn't help. Her arm was still wrapped to hide the scars that she wasn't quite used to.

She'd been in Lavaridge for nearly a week. She'd spent a good three quarters of that time regretting it. Haven hated crowds, and Lavaridged was about as packed as an overpriced music concert -- except instead of buzzed 20-somethings clamouring to get some low-quality video with the sound blown out, it was a bunch of traumatized, bored, irritated refugees. Haven needed to get out of this damn town.

Of course, there'd been one upside: the hotsprings. They were normally too full to enjoy, but the two times that Haven'd actually managed to get in had been pure bliss. And of course, the time in the warm sand had helped to officially add a new member to their little family.

She'd hatched yesterday: a tiny yellow and white ball of fluff that buzzed around her head in happy little circles. She was something called a Cutiefly, apparently. One of the old men who'd witnessed the hatching had spent some years in Alola, where they were usually found. She'd spent her first few seconds of life trying to hold herself up in the shifting sand, fluttering her fresh wings and kicking up dusty particles. The moment she'd figured out how to fly, she'd taken off, zipping around Haven's head, between her other pokemon, to different flowers until she was absolutely covered in pollen, to different laughing strangers, then back to Haven again.

Her name was Dust.

Everyone was in love with her, naturally. Blink doted on her, delighting in producing harmless powder for her to zip through. Lace was excited to have another playmate, the two chasing each other this way and that. Cloak enjoyed teasing her with flowers, pulling them out for her only to hide them as soon as she got close. But it was Dagger who seemed to take the strongest to their newest family member -- Haven chalked it up to the fact that they were both fairy types.

Haven... wasn't quite sure how she felt about the little pokemon yet. Her emotions were a swirl of responsibility and trauma and protectiveness that --

A figure stepped out of the shadows and approached her. She tensed. But she didn't jump out of her skin and shrink behind her pokemon like she would've a week ago. Her pokemon all stilled in their game, just happening to place themselves loosely around their trainer. Haven looked up to see who it was.

Standing before her was a teenage girl, tall, with straight brown hair and green eyes. An Espeon was close by, its tail wrapping up around her leg. She fidgeted, sadness in her eyes as she spoke. Movement in the air caught Haven's eyes and she glanced up to see Dust, predictably, zipping over to inspect the girl. Dust did one quick revolution around the girl's head as she spoke, and then...

Came back to Haven.

That was unexpected.

In the short time she'd been alive, Dust had proven herself to be an empathetic little thing, sensitive to the emotions of everyone around her. If someone was angry, she did her best to avoid them. If they were happy, she flew around them incessantly, reveling in their joy, even landing on them and trying to poke at them with her tiny little mouth as if she'd mistaken them for flowers. And if they were scared or sad, she stuck close by them and nuzzled at them, buzzing in concerned circles.

So that this girl stood before them, nervous and on the verge of tears... that her Espeon looked so distraught, and Dust didn't react at all...

Haven filed it away in her mind. It was odd, to say the least. She held up a finger and Dust landed on it, tapping at her skin every now and then with her mouth. Haven looked back up to the girl.

"Uh, sorry," she responded. "You're gonna have to be more specific. I've met a lot of people lately."
Location: Armadillo


Temp pressed her lips together, her fire already starting to cool as Roz reprimanded her. Guilt was a small, quiet thing that crawled up her throat. Roz was... she was good to her. Patient. Gave her more chances than she shoulda.

Roz was fretting over the cut that Temp had already forgotten about. Temp clenched her jaw to hold back her immediate response – that she’d made it this long without a mother and didn’t need one now. She breathed out slow. Roz didn’t deserve that.

”Ya didn’t exactly hire me for my customer service skills,” she mumbled half heartedly. She took the towel and ice from her boss before Roz could even attempt to treat her. ”...Sorry. Won’t shout unless someone deserves it.” Her voice was soft, tempering some of her usual gruffness. Temp looked down at the towel in her hand, the ice’s chill already starting to seep through it. She tapped it twice against her other hand, listening to the rattle of ice. ”I cost you customers, take it out of my pay or cut me loose.” She glanced up at Roz for the briefest of moments.

Then she moved past her, back towards the front of the saloon. ”Bar’s unmanned,” she mumbled. She pressed the towel up to her brow for Roz’s sake, feeling the ice bite into her skin.

Back in the front, Temp moved to the bar. Her eyes found the woman she’d snapped at. Temp gave a quiet sigh. Looked away. Back at the woman. ”What’ll ya have?” It was the closest she was going to get to an apology.
Location: Armadillo


Temp glanced up at the figure approaching the bar. She raised her eyebrow at the runt, already reaching for a water-spotted glass to get her some water, when a man butted in. Temp’s eyes narrowed at the implication that she'd give a kid liquor. Snatching the money with more force than necessary, she opened her mouth to tell the bastard off when --


Temp's eyes widened, adrenaline immediately spiking. Her hand was quick to find the wooden bat stashed under the bar, and then she was jumping over it to follow the man out the door. She stopped though, in the doorway. Guns were already drawn. A short series of shots. Then there were two new bodies dropped to the ground, to join the two that were already there. Temp's stomach churned. Four growing pools of crimson blood stained the dusty ground. Death. There was something in her gut like nausea... like fear. Then the man from the bar -- the only man left standing -- turned, and all of Temp's emotions were pushed down, remolded into something easier for her to process.

She glared. Temp spun n her heel and stomped back to the bar, walking behind it properly instead of vaulting over it. She all but threw the bat back down under the bar. She grabbed the large bottle of lemonade that rested against the back wall and poued it into the glass she'd set down in front of the kid, wondering how hard she'd have to hit someone in the head with it to drop 'em. The man returned and if Temp could've set the bar on fire with her gaze, then she reckoned she would've been seeing smoke by now. She capped the bottle and slammed it down.

"You killed them, you get the damned preacher," she all but spat at the man. Makes a fucking mess and can't even bother to clean it up. Anger bubbled in Temp's blood. Her hand snapped out to grab the empty glass from his hand and drop it roughly on the counter behind the bar.

"What?" she suddenly demanded of the new face that had perched itself in front of her.
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