Avatar of EchoicChamber

Status

Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current Much to the surprise of everyone, I am not dead.
3 likes

Bio

I'm EchoicChamber, though I mostly go by Echo.
I'm in my twenties, and returned here on a whim.
I have no idea what's happening at any given moment.

Most Recent Posts

Aristide made no real effort to hide the way his eyes roved about the stranger as he approached, taking in the scar, the build, the height. He made no effort to respond, either, letting the words just hang in the air with no real rush to respond to them. It was only when he was satisfied with his little assessment that he shifted a little, turning his hand to inspect the length of his nails.

I am, yes. I’m assuming you must be one, yourself, going around asking about it.” His wrist lowered, one dark brow lifting in time with the movement. “And you are…?”

The stranger had, admittedly, sparked a sort of low interest in him. It wasn’t much, really- the sort of feeling you might find when something caught your eye in a shop window- but it was there, and it was enough to keep him from dismissing the fellow and going off to find wherever the hell the dorms were, so they wouldn’t have to keep lugging their things around with them. The scar, as well as the build of the boy, implied strength. Experience. It was the eyes, however, that betrayed where that experience came from.

It was curious.

@The Narrator




To say that Library wasn’t particularly enthralled by this whole situation would be an understatement. The look in her brother’s eyes told her that he had found something to amuse himself with for at least a good couple of minutes, though a conversation about his particular major wasn’t exactly riveting She gave a brief nod to the boy that had approached them, but chose to let Aristide take the reigns of this situation, entirely quiet. Even if she wanted to say anything, he would likely just force himself back into the center of attention anyway.

As usual.

She stood there for a moment, watching Ari talk, then slipped away from his side, footsteps remarkably silent against the auditorium floor.
Oh, dang, just took a look through this forum, and realized there's some familiar faces here from hundreds of years ago. I'm tempted to join, since it's been a good while since I've been in anything superhero-y. I have a few questions, but since you mentioned that you're on the road, @Count Cuddles, I'd be willing to hold off on pestering until there's a better time.
The pair had taken to leaning against the back wall of the auditorium when the headmistress delivered the speech, listening with differing levels of interest as their eyes swept the room. The way that Aristide crossed his arms over his chest, lip curled, practically screamed to the world that he wasn’t especially impressed. It was a carefully constructed look, a position of the body that declared that all the agency of his self was his, that he was a master of his own fate and his own being. It was a voice of power.

Perhaps, in some way, there was some truth to it. They were entirely on their own, after all. For the first time, they were far from home, entirely in control of themselves; unless you counted the staff of the school, which Aristide didn’t.

Library seemed to grant more respect to the situation, back straight and shoulders squared, though her eyes betrayed her disinterest. As the headmistress finished, she stepped closer to her brother, voice barely a whisper.

“I guess that means that we’re supposed to figure out where we’ll be staying on our own, then.”

“Well, it seems like she wants us to just have us a nice little Lord of the Flies…thing here, so I’m not surprised.” Aristide’s tone was just as his body suggested: bored. However, as the words left his mouth, the curled lip formed a half-smile, and he straightened up a bit. “In which case, I’m afraid you won’t last very long at all, Libby dear.”

“Thanks for your voice of confidence.” She paused. Her shoulders seemed to twitch a bit. Lord of the Flies, published on September 17th, 1954, was William Golding’s first novel. During a wartime evacuation, a British aeroplane crashes on or near an isolated island in a remote region of the Pacific Island, with the only survivors being a group of young prepubescent boys. The boys then-” Library gave a stifled noise, rapidly snapping her fingers, then quieted.

Aristide just rolled his eyes. “Absolutely helpless. Just stay close. They’ll eat you alive if they get the chance.”

“I’m not a five year old, you know.”

“Then act like it.”

“Says the person who broke a chair during a temper tantrum.”

That managed to get Aristide’s smile to tighten a bit. “Just shut up. Let’s go find some other…” He waggled his fingers. “Munchkin to associate ourselves with.”

Rolling her eyes, Library followed after her brother as he left the wall, and the two began their search for company.


After ten thousand years, my terrible, angry character is finished.




I'm still working on Aristide's profile, but I thought it would be a good idea to have Libby's up first just so I have something on here.
@blackdragon Could there be a family of one certain major type sending their kiddos? Cause my characters are supposed to come from a magical mafia type of situation, but not as mafia majors, and I wanted to check to see if that was okay.
@blackdragon I'd be incredibly down.
Also, would it be alright for me to make two characters, a pair of siblings?
@blackdragon I’m around! I had a final today, so I was a bit preoccupied.
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet