Dark Light

Beyond The Veil Interest Check

Sooo much interest. Hope I'm not too late!

No Contender

Oooh, could be interested in this! Will keep an eye on how it goes. :)

After Era Mythos [Corpo-Heroes Powered by Fame]

Wraith

W R A I T H

This young unsponsored superhuman has steadily been gaining fame and a curious following. Popping up out of nowhere, he is drawn to other heroes and villains. So far his goals are still unclear, but his antics have him appearing across all major forms of social media. He is seemingly untouchable, un-hurtable, and able to vanish back into a cloud of dust just as quickly. His presence has been making heroes and villains alike a bit nervous. We can't say much more about this mysterious wraith since he has refused to say a single word.
Speculation continues to grow around what power his voice holds, if he can speak at all and what he is hiding beneath that mask.

(kid had a plan with some friends to photo bomb a bunch of scripted scenes after gaining access to a corporation's PR plans. Showing up in all their hero shots in the background started to give him powers, he used those powers to access more info and do it to other companies too. They kept it low tier, safe, always planning ten steps ahead and using all the insider knowledge.)

Crucible (Post Apocalyptic Scavengers RP)

@Paradoxial

I've got a character cooking.
Slim 'the weasel' Jim. (not his real name)

Light crew,
Great at wriggling through tiny spaces. Electronics and stealth specialist.

Coming here was an attempt to clean his life up but he gets pulled back into old circles.

For contacts in was thinking
1. a fence/ black market trader. Might not be 'above board' but ppl have wants.
2. Criminal loan shark (or a lower thug) when people's needs are bad enough they need somewhere to go, even if the costs are high. Takes advantage of desperation. Deals in food, currency and favours.
3. Roxanne, does what she has to to get by, hears all the gossip on the streets. Will sell him out if the price is right.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Aliseth

---

Guard Tower

---

""

Splinters of wood and scuffed boot marks littered the snow around the training dummy. The echoing thwack's of metal on wood had now ceased and only Aliseth's heavy breathing remained.

"Thats, uh, a strong swing. Sir." came the awe struck voice of a lower rank Lunarian guard. Standing idly where Aliseth left him.
"I mean. You were chopping through that like you had an axe."

Aliseth adopt his regal posture once again and turned to face the voice. He didn't know this guards name. The man was quite tall, with short black hair. A thick, untidy beard that Aliseth found unbefitting of a guard. And brown almost empty eyes that stared right back at the higher ranking superior.

"The Wood is old, it's getting weak." Aliseth reply dismissively, glancing one last time and the wooden figure before striding across the field towards the guard and the covered crate beside him.

"And you are sure it can be tamed?" Aliseth asked the guard while looking to the crate, kneeling down before it and lifting the corner flap to peer inside.

"Yes, I believe so. I mean, we have trained wolves before so this should be easy. It appears young enough. It, um. It just needs to survive." There was a hesitant doubt in his voice, his tone revealing his belief. It wouldn't survive.

Coming to stand and having to look up slightly to capture the tall guards eyes, Aliseth towered over him with authority, if not height. "See that it does." He simply yet firmly commanded as he handed over his blade.
"And have this sharpened for me. I'll have both back on the morrow, here, same time.

A dismissive nod saw the guard carefully gather the sword and crate, return an awkward bow, and then hurry off, leaving Aliseth truly alone this time in the training grounds.

It would not be long before others came to the space but before they did, he wander out across the icy field, unbuckling a gauntlet as he did and after stripping off the layers of metal and leather, he ran his bare finger across the deep scars in the wood. It was easy to find the ones he made, few others had bit so deep.

He mused in silence at the effects of his enhanced strength. Then his thoughts fell back to his recent fight. The effortless clean cut that removed Able's head. It was a speed and ease few guards could hope to mimic. But maybe he could. He swallowed down the pain of those memories as his hand balled into a fist against the wood. He knew then he would have to learn how to control his new power, and quickly.

Crucible (Post Apocalyptic Scavengers RP)

@Paradoxial Looks really good!
Just wondering how it will run, do you plan to be running it like a GM or will it be more sandbox.
How will combat be resolved?

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Aliseth

---

Guard Tower or something

---

Time and fate, these two things danced around in the guards mind as he circle his foe, heavy metallic boots crunching the snow underfoot and the familiar weight of steel hanging comfortably in his hand.

It had seemed like forever ago that Abel was slain, beheaded before his very eyes, since he gave chase and fought off that blight born.
Since he ran into Zeph who was supposed to be there helping him.
Since the lockdown and altercation with Elio and the guard who disobeyed directives.

But all of that, that was all only the previous day.

Even his early walk with Elara, the princesses handmaiden, that uplifting chat, seemed like too long ago. Just the memory of that sapped the tension from his muscles and brought the hint of a smile to his lips. The comfort he had felt in her presence. The stimulating distraction of her conversation.

Before those thoughts could pull him into complacency, he attacked. A sudden lunge forward, strength exploding from his rear leg. Steel sweeping out in a wide horizontal arc before him, then the direction and momentum quickly changed. A powerful diagonal cut back down upon itself etching a new deep score amongst the many already crisscrossing the training dummies wooden skin.

It didn't end there, the sword shot back up in a defensive guard, blocking an invisible attack as he shift his weigh and stance. From there a small flick of his weapon preceded a side step and single hand thrust where the tip of the blade hit the centre of the dummies wooden chest with a resounding 'thunk'.

A duck, a weave and a spin saw the blade cutting along the back of the supporting pole where his enemies legs would be before he stepped in close with an upward slice, dragging the weapon up the full length of the dummies back. A heavy kick ended the assault, shaking the wooden structure and nearly sending him back onto his ass. Unlike a human, the dummies thick support ran deep into the ground.

Aliseth took a breath, raised his sword, and then the dance continued. The blight had brought with it all manner of powerful Magic's, abilities and foes. He had to be ready. Time and fate would not wait.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Collab between @The Muse and @Dark Light
_{Location: The Hot Springs}

Part II

---

Vellion let out a deflated sigh, gaze trailing the path of the fleeing priestess but with none of his earlier mocking torment, instead holding a silent contemplation. Perhaps he almost felt guilt or remorse. If he did, it was unclear. Nyla resisted arching a brow as she caught the flicker of emotion passing through his dark eyes. The steel within her softened against him, if only for a moment.

Quickly dismissing whatever thoughts had intruded on his mind, he turned his attention back to Nyla and finally responded. "That I am, Ass is fine. Asshole also works, or anything of that nature really.” He says with disinterest as he turns his back on the woman and steps over to where his clothes lay, throwing the towel over his head as he starts rubbing his hair dry.

"So what are you really doing here?” His muffled voice escaped the towels movements. "You seemed pretty interested in that priestess, despite barely knowing her.” He had stopped toweling himself down and fixed a suspicious insinuating eye on her. A faint accusatory smirk sitting ready in the corner of his lips.

"Did I, interrupt something?”

Nyla returned his smirk and let out a soft, airy laugh. “Why? You are jealous?” She teased, her desert accent slipping into her words.

She peeled her gaze away from his, glancing down at the basket of cookies in her hands, trying to suppress the shame that had crept in. Briefly, she looked up the stone steps to confirm the Priestess had truly gone—escaped—then returned her gaze to him.

“You wish to be with her, or…?” She tilted her head, black hair cascading over her shoulder as a sweet smile played on her lips. “I think, maybe, you should try a softer approach with that one, Ass.” She paused, letting her eyes roam over him, taking her time in doing so. “Aurelian Priestesses are not so easily impressed.”

Done with his hair, he ran the towel quickly over his shoulders looking back at the woman who’s name he didn't know.
"Jealous? Me? No. Intrigued? Maybe.” He gave a faint shrug, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"A man can wish for many things, can he not?” He teased, musing to himself, flashing another playful devilish grin her way. Through that smile, an almost precursor to what was to come, he continued.

"She might’ve been impressed if she’d stuck around long enough to fall for my irresistible charm."

He paused, just for a beat—then, with no warning at all, flung his damp towel toward her. She flinched at the sudden movement, gripping the basket tighter and taking an automatic, fearful step backwards.
Silent, swift, and unnervingly precise, Vellion devoured the space between them with a preternatural grace. As the towel fell fluttering away, he was there, mere breaths away, eyes waiting, locked on hers. They searched her, relentlessly, invasively, for truths she hadn’t spoken, for secrets still hidden behind her tongue.

And then, finally he spoke, slow and low, every word wrapped in a velvet rhythm, more spell than sentence.

"How about you?”

Nyla held his gaze, unable to look away, even as her heart beat faster. Her nerves alight once more.

"You're not an Aurelian Priestess. So.. Are you impressed?”

For a moment, it took Nyla longer than she’d ever admit for her to feel fully grounded within her own body again.

It had been so long since someone had so intensely flirted with her—danced with her. Many had tried, but she could hardly recall the last time any had left her feeling unbalanced.

She blinked, quickly trying to return to herself and push the feeling aside. Her posture relaxed as the easy smile she had perfected returned to her lips.

“I’m much harder to impress.” she said smoothly, but with a playful, mocking undertone. She gave him a look of exaggerated disappointment, as though he could never hope to meet her exceptionally high standards. She held his gaze, but inside, she could feel the rapid pulse in her chest.

For just a second, she felt something—a small, unfamiliar flicker of nervousness—and quickly glanced away from him, her eyes drifting back to the stone steps, seeking some distraction to divert his attention.

“What is it you do here in town, anyway?” she asked, trying to regain her footing. Her gaze moved behind him to the sword propped up against the stone, recalling the scent of decay that had clung to the air earlier.

“You… hunt?” she asked, realizing now that she could no longer detect that scent.

"I… hunt.” He confirmed, voice echoing in her ear. Her eyes and attention might have darted about but his remained fixed. Fixed on her, held with a calm confident intensity. He was more than fixed, he was fixated. Lips softly parting with an apparent hunger. He looked ready and wanting to kiss her, or perhaps with that hunger in his eyes, it was to bite her.

Neither eventuates.

He breathed, a slow drawn out breath, its sound hanging on the silence between them, then with a sudden chuckle the moment was broken, bursting like a bubble, disappearing like a drop of rain into the stream of moments before it.

Nyla watched him carefully again, noting how effortlessly he had dodged her questions—twice now. No name. An unconvincing confirmation of his occupation, buried in innuendo. Her instincts whispered not to trust him. And yet, she stayed.

"And how about you? Do you hunt?” He asked mockingly as he headed back to pick up his clothes, deliberately positioning himself nearer his blade than perhaps necessary.

"What is it you do? Besides creep around the hotsprings carrying cookies?”
He noticed the basket for the first time.

“This is just my favorite pastime," she joked, a soft lilt of genuine amusement in her voice.

Now that he had put some distance between them, she felt steadier, more in control when her eyes met his again.

“I… entertain,” she added after a beat, the words tasting strange on her tongue. She used to, anyway. Something twisted in her heart at the thought—bitter and sad. She had no true place here, or anywhere. Not yet. But maybe, if she could get through speaking to Flynn, she would find her place again.

Brushing past the thought, she tilted her head, letting that playful glint return to her eyes. "Are you entertained?" she asked, plucking a cookie from the basket and holding it out in offering to him.

As Vellion begins redressing himself, starting with his pants, he glances up at Nyla and the offered treat in her outstretched hand.

"No.” He replied flatly. That single simple word deliberately left vague, and yet somehow so filled with the heavy undertone of a challenge. A dare.

"Not yet anyway.” His eye's bore a challenge but he said nothing else, a teasing glint in his demeanour as he tightened his belt and spoke with silence.

With a shrug, she slowly withdrew the offering, taking a small, deliberate bite instead. Chewing, she let the silence linger between them, holding his gaze thoughtfully.

“You’re not so easy to impress either, then.” She said after a moment, unabashedly observing the way he took his time to dress. “Good.”

Despite her nerves, there was something undeniably sharp and defiant in her blue eyes. He could challenge her all he wanted—she wasn’t going to ask “how high” when he told her to jump.

He gave a slight noncommittal shrug in reply to her keen observation. Not at all surprised she didn't fall for the bait. Meanwhile continuing to take his time getting dressed in front of her. His wet shirt clinging to his muscles which he tense while pulling it on. As if almost aware of what movements and positions highlighted his best features.

"So just what sort of entertainment do you offer?” He questions as he pauses getting dressed to give her reply his proper focus. Showing some signs of curious interest. Even if it was the type of interest a farmer might show to cattle he was thinking of purchasing.

“That depends,” she mused softly, her gaze tracing the tension in his arms before flicking back up to meet his gaze. “What sort of entertainment do you desire?”

Vellion found this woman increasingly difficult to rattle, and was running out of buttons to push. In that moment, he conclusively decided to give up on hiding the smile from his lips that she had created. Fully dressed now he let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head and retrieved his sword from the ground, finding he needed a moment's thought to find a reply.

In doing so, he was acceptingly giving her a point, if this were some game of skill and scoring.

He bit his lip, looking at the snow covered ground around his feet, deciding. Sword in hand he eventually looked back up, committal determination burning in his eyes as he playfully pointed the sheathed blade at the stranger before him. Time for boldness.

"Hmmm.

Clearly a fake thought as he steps closer.

"The sort that takes place before a warm fire. ”

Nyla raised a brow as he took another step, snow crunching beneath his bare feet.

"On or beside a comfy bed.”
Another step. His breath visible in the cold air.

"Puts a drink on my lips.”

A final step that sees the wooden sheath softly press against her sternum. She held her breath, stubbornly refusing to back away. This wasn’t the first time a man had pressed a weapon to her skin, but it had been the first time in a long time.

"And reverses,”

He lowers his voice, slowly sliding the weapon down along her stomach, gliding between the folds of her cloak.

"Our recent situation.”

A deft flick of his wrist tugged the garment open. Nyla tensed, but remained in place, the cold air rushing in against her chest. Though her tunic still covered her, the sudden absence of her cloak’s warmth was sharp, immediate. She was glad, for once, that she had dressed appropriately for the cold.

"It’s only fair after all..”

Slowly, as if moving too quickly might invite him closer, Nyla reached out and pressed her palm against the sheath. In an unhurried, deliberate motion, she guided it downward and away from her body.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, but her expression remained impeccably composed—disinterest worn like armor. Desperately, she tried to hold onto that feeling of dismissive control, like a thread that was slowly slipping through her fingertips.

“Fair?” She mused, lifting her gaze back to his. “You didn’t strike me for someone who plays fair.”

His amused grin widens at her witty retort.

She let the silence stretch between them, considering his words—if only to allow herself a moment to breathe. His eyes burned into her, but she refused to flinch beneath it.

“Start with the drink,” she finally said, a faint curve teasing at her lips. “Let’s see where that gets you.”

Withdrawing her palm from the sheathe, she stepped around him with fluid grace—like she had never been caught off guard at all. Like she never could be.

Moving past him, she strode toward the path that led away from the hotspring and back into town, choosing the route that curved around the temple rather than through it. With her back to him, every nerve in her body buzzed in warning, but she continued.

’A drink….’ If only it were that easy. When her back turned to him, all expression faded from his face, melting away in the absence of her gaze. ’Oh how he wanted a drink’
It seemed the fox from earlier had only served as an appetiser, now with a refreshed taste, he craved the main meal. He watched her walk, he could sense the warmth of her body, hear the beat of her heart, smell the mix of aroma’s on her skin. A ravenous craving had been growin in the pit of his soul.

He needed to feed.

Extending his senses beyond her, he look up the path and listen to the forest around them. Besides the rippling water he heard and saw no signs of company. They were all alone. The weight of his blade feeling right in his hand.

Brushing off the weight of choices, he clipped his sword to his belt and made a step to follow. Mask springing back in place, just in time.

A few paces away, she cast a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes met his—a silent question held there. A challenge.

’A challenge indeed. Vellion thought, although what prize he was seeking, he wasn't yet quite sure.

"Are you buying? it's a new age after all.”

Nyla simply scoffed in response.

---

As they drew nearer the center of town and the tavern, Vellion’s pace seemed to slow before he finally came to a complete stop.

"This is hardly the appropriate attire for our first date.” He teased, pinching the shoulder of his wet shirt. Nyla arched an inquisitive brow, though she remained quiet and examined his shirt. How he wasn't shivering against cloth that was likely turning into a sheet of ice, she didn't know.

"Let me just go and get into something a little finer, I insist. Unless of course you wish to come help me get changed, instead of just watching this time.”

Despite herself, Nyla couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

"Go ahead, start without me, I'll find you soon.” He effortlessly lied.

She couldn’t help but find it amusing that he suddenly cared about his attire—especially considering how little shame he’d had earlier, standing stark naked in front of two strangers. Still, she played along, tilting her head in mock consideration.

“You own finery?” she teased, though she was genuinely surprised. At every turn, he seemed to surprise her.

“Fine,” she said with a small, exaggerated sigh. “But don’t take too long. Patience isn’t my strong suit.” She flashed him a playful smile before turning away. Without looking back, she strode toward the tavern, though she remained keenly aware of every step he took—or didn’t take—behind her.

Stepping away felt like a relief. His presence had a way of dominating whatever space he was in, as if it were trying to devour her. Dangerous—and tantalizing. Now, at least, she could gather herself, reel in that thread of poise and control that had started to unravel.

The plan to go to the tavern was only so that she would not be alone with this force of a man. Though she could not deny, he was interesting—if nothing else.

As she strode away, she focused on the basket in her hands, and her thoughts drifted back to the Priestess. A shiver of worry ran down her spine, and the unsettling thought that this stranger might turn back to the temple. She didn’t trust him—didn’t even know his name.

Her steps slowed slightly, her instincts kicking into overdrive now that she had put some distance between them. Decisively, she made up her mind that she would tell a guard to reinforce the watch around the temple, just to be cautious—just in case. She wasn’t sure what exactly troubled her, but something about this entire encounter hadn’t sat right.

Still, despite her nerves and all the walls she had carefully built around herself, she found herself almost hoping he would show up to the tavern. This stranger had been the most intriguing she’d encountered in far too long, and the way he’d unsettled her, thrown her off balance, felt…. oddly refreshing.

It was as if something within her, long dormant, had stirred awake again. The feeling was dangerous, she knew, but it was also thrilling.

She felt alive again.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

@The Muse@c3p-0h

Vellion Hurst

---

Hotsprings

---

Water spray up into the air as Velion threw his head back to the sky. The burning flesh of his face and upper torso greeted by the icy air and falling snow.
With his back to the newcomers, and facing the other way, he did not see or hear them. He would not be aware of their presence if he had relied purely on human senses. But he was not simply human and being dead had its advantages.

He had no way of telling if they were friend or foe. Was it a guard seeking revenge or someone simply coming to enjoy the springs. It created a tense moment of nervous anticipation, but he couldn't let it show. He didn't. What ever way it fell, it was an inconvenience.

Without turning around he force himself to release a feigned refreshing gasp as he ran his fingers through his hair. Playing the part of someone preparing to enjoy a warm dip in the springs, when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. He sought to rid himself of the water that hid in his hair and burned his scalp, he focused intently on the rivulets that ran down his back repairing his flesh before it could be broken.

Anything they could see, he couldn't let falter. It tested his new abilities and despite how good he was doing, he still needed more time.
Tilting his head to the side still ensuring his face was concealed, he made a show of trying to clear water from his ear, creating unquestionable reasons he hadn't heard them or turned around.

Next, his hands went to his belt, and without hesitation he untie it, aiding his pants and undergarments to the floor with a little wriggle of his hips. Now completely in the nude he lean over the water once more, allowing the steam to engulf him as he looks at the horrific warped reflection staring back up at him. Watching as death appeared to be reversed right in front of his very eyes, a mask, a facade. It left him feeling hollow and empty, for he could trick everybody else but not himself.

Completely naked, he lean on a rock overlooking the water ignoring those that came up behind him. Hidden in the steam he focuses on his reflection as he rebuilds his appearance and heals with his magic.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Vellion Hurst

---

Hotsprings

---

[BATH TIME]

The whispering wisps of steam that rose up from the surface of the hot spring should have been inviting. A warm welcoming reprieve from the biting cold. He knew this, it was the sort of luxury that would have once excited his younger self, But now Vellion couldn't deny the internal anxiety that grew within him with each and every step that drew him nearer that haunting body of steaming water.

This was his choice. He told himself, a consequence of earlier choices. He had denied himself a fresh caught meal due to the presence of others, foolishly letting his hunger grow as curiosity got the better of him. This then led to a less than civilised style of eating when he eventually deemed his location safe.

The dead fox had lost much of its warmth, but despite that disappointment, Vellion had still devoured it hastily. No cutlery or knife was needed. Nor did he cook it. Blood now stained the hands that ripped it apart and coated the mouth that tore through it. Buried somewhere out in the dark under the snow were it's bones.

This, this is why Vellion now found himself in need of a bath. He couldn't very well wander back through town looking the way he did. So, fighting back that gnawing warning screaming at him from the pit of his stomach, Vellion slowly unbutton his shirt as he approach and sit upon the rocky cropping beside the water, staring at his moon lit reflection with a fierce intensity.

After what seemed an age, he found no conclusion or resolve to his thoughts, if he even had any, but the fact of what he had to do remained. Completely removing his shirt now, his bare torso exposed to the elements, he wrap the fabric around his hand and dip it into the water.

There was a moments silence as the warm liquid gradually seeped through the clothing, then, suddenly, a sharp hiss sliced through the silence as the water enveloped his hand. He wasn't sure if the sound came from his mouth or his flesh but the water might as well have been boiling for all the pain it caused. He snatched his hand back, leaving the shirt bobbing in the spring as he examine the source of his sudden sharp pain. He could sense it before he could see it. The magic that created the facade of life was wilting under the heavy touch of water. It sought to slowly dissolve what he had created, exposing old injuries and rotted flesh.

Once his skin was no longer submerged, the effects sought to reverse them self. This was trickier where rivulets of water still cascade down his exposed skin, but was entirely manageable with a bit of focus. More importantly, his hand was clean. It wasn't a pleasant experience in the least, but one he could come to tolerate, bare even. As long as he never accidentally fell in.

Gritting his teeth he reach into the hellish water and grab his shirt, rinsing it as quick as he could. Next, was his mouth. Without giving himself a moment to hesitate he plunged his face into the water. Bubbles erupted around his head and soon after he threw himself back, caught by a mound of snow. He would of closed his eyes if he could, but he was missing an eyelid. Melted away. The snow that fell from above was a blurry sheet. His chest was streaked with pale lines where the water ran down his body fighting against his magic. All his focus was on repairing his face. The only active sense beyond his blurred vision was pain, everything else was muted in comparison.

The pain was almost a relief, an escape... almost.
It was not so easy being dead.