Avatar of Fabricant451

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Recent Statuses

25 days ago
Current You'd think after like 15 years I'd stop feeling like a fraud when writing posts but I still do which is both a statement on my self confidence and a compliment to how good my partners are as writers
15 likes
5 mos ago
Why are you talking about Final Fantasy 10 like that
5 mos ago
Final Fantasy 13 is a top five entry in the franchise but ya'll still ain't ready to have that conversation
6 mos ago
This Bears/Packers game is gonna make me believe in the power of Chicago Pope
2 likes
6 mos ago
The older I get the more I start to think BBQ potato chips are the worst flavor, actually.
3 likes

Bio

Look, I got lost on the way to getting some jajangmyeon and it'd be foolish to leave now.

Most Recent Posts







The neighborhood used to be so lovely. It was the kind of place where newlyweds liked to settle down when the conversation at night turned to talk of children and family rather than platitudes of love and attraction. There was a nice suburban feel to it, and the local school was rated rather highly when it came to exam season; even the nearby Magic School before everything went to hell for magic sorts was a positive spot on the town's reputation. The fact that magic and its practitioners were in a bit of a tizzy at present couldn't mar the neighborhood. However, one girl was making the once idyllic little burg a living, waking nightmare for its residents.

There was an odorous cloud hovering above an otherwise ordinary two-story home situated dead center of the block. The cloud used to be contained to the inside, but ever since the window in the attic opened to air out the source, the cloud and its pungent stench of sulfur and rotten eggs had been in the air for months now. It wasn't even the first incident involving the periwinkle blue home. It started off with minor infractions, the young daughter of the house caught trespassing in the neighbor's yards, digging up soil and digging through trash or snatching some clothing on the wire with the promise of 'bringing it back mostly intact - sorry in tatters'. No one quite knew why, for the first few years she wasn't much of a nuisance, but they could forgive her for just having a wild youth. They were less inclined to forgive when little fires were set in the backyard or when a mild explosion in the early hours of the morning wound up breaking glass and waking up neighbors on a weekend. The sulfur cloud was essentially the last straw, a blight on the community.

Of course, the one who caused those incidents didn't exactly understand why people were so upset. She had no way of knowing for sure but she chalked it up to 'gifted' sorts upset that someone outside their circle was trying to make a difference in the world. She, of course, being the only daughter of the Fashonti family: Rinh - pronounced, as she puts it "Like ring but without the 'gee'." Rinh had been a quiet girl until she learned to speak and after that point all bets were off.

Presently, as with everyday, Rinh was in the attic of her home which she had turned into a laboratory of sorts. There were odd colored liquids in flasks, vials containing materials like grass or insects or water, burners bubbling beakers, and from a particularly large container came the source of the sulfur and egg scent, just another casualty on the road of scientific advancement. Though her bedroom was on the second floor, Rinh basically lived in the attic and had done ever since she was given the best gift of her life.

"You know, Mio was onto something, just a shame they didn't truly see the potential here." Rinh was speaking aloud, as she often did when working, and happened to be speaking about Yunoko Mio the supposed 'genius' who created the device that turned the magical community on its head. Rinh did admire Yunoko Mio while also slightly resenting the person. The admiration came simply from one bright mind to another; though Rinh was but seventeen she considered herself and her mind to put her as a contemporary alongside Yunoko. The resentment came from the fact that the Gauntlet was still aimed and marketed toward those who had magic in their blood already. Rinh and the entire Fashonti Family didn't have that luxury. Rinh couldn't cast a bit of natural magic even if she put her entire being into it, and her parents bought her a Gauntlet for her eleventh birthday hoping that her fascination with magic and the like would end by her twelfth one.

They still hold out hope that her obsession will stop.

Rinh's Gauntlet was unique compared to other Gauntlets on the market. She had taken the damn thing apart when she got it, poked around its insides, and voided the warranty by making modifications to it. She still wasn't able to cast magic in the typical sense, but her first major breakthrough came one morning where she ignited some chemical compounds with only the flick of her wrist. Sure she had to sweep up the broken glass throughout the neighborhood but no one but her understood what this meant. She had done magic by using science. The possibilities had to be endless!

"One day I'm gonna shake their hand and accept my award for advancing the study of magi-science. And I'll try not to rub it in their face." Rinh had her dreams, the same as many youths her age, and those dreams were what kept her cooped up in her attic workshop, testing out combinations, gathering ingredients to break down chemically, and molding herself into the modern version of an alchemist. In the old days alchemists brewed potions and lies; now the only one selling lies were the ones who claimed she couldn't do it.

Rinh removed her goggles and wiped sweat from her forehead. Today's work was coming along nicely. The vials at her hip clinked together as she took a step back to admire the handiwork. She had taken some plants from the neighbor's yard and had managed to reduce them down to just the chemical makeup. She had, in essence, turned flowers into nitrogen and that was something that came with a victory lap. The chemical would go into a vial and in turn be fed into her Gauntlet, but every success came with a grin of satisfaction.

Except for this one which was promptly interrupted by an unfamiliar voice. Rinh spun around and damn near fell over. How did a woman get here? Well the window was open but there didn't seem to be a ladder from what Rinh could see. Then she noticed the wings which were strange enough. It only got stranger when the winged woman then disappeared in a bright flash, leaving Rinh holding a letter and a stunned expression.

"What the-" The scientist opened the letter, as curiosity often dictated actions, and her eyes darted over the text, scoffing as she reached the end of it. "Draining my mana? Puh-lease. Only 'mana' I have is normal blood. Probably someone's idea of a joke. And here I thought my genius was going to be recognized...without actually revealing my work...somehow. Doesn't matter. What matters is this letter is a joke and I'm not laughing."

Rinh didn't rip the letter nor did she toss it aside. Her reaction was a bit more incendiary. Paper often contained useful compounds. Carbon. Hydrogen. Oxygen. But she wasn't interested in breaking the letter down like she was with other materials. Rinh instead tossed the letter in front of her, did a spin for flourish, and thrust her right hand forward, fingers extended, and from her gauntlet came a burst of flame, igniting the compounds she had stored inside. The letter went up in flames, dropping to ash on the attic floor.

Rinh did not join the ashes in the attic. As soon as she had ignited the letter in a show of defiance, she was engulfed by a bright light without so much as a warning.
What Poi said. Hopefully shit'll hold steady!

Still excited to get into magic shenanigans with ya'll.
Aisling Kavanagh




Name
Aisling Kavanagh

Age
16

Class Year
4th

Nationality
United Kingdom of Albion, from the island of Éire

Appearance
There's nothing elegant or refined about Aisling's appearance and at a simple glance it's easy to detect the presence of a pauper amongst princesses. It starts at the top with her hair. A messy mop of dark red that looks as if it hasn't known proper brushing or washing and the uneven bangs suggest someone cuts with a mirror in one hand and scissors in the other. Her height is almost the only thing of note, at a flat five foot five, and even then it hardly makes up for anything. Her posture doesn't do her height any favors nor does her physique which is gangly slender on the best of days. Often she had been known to attire herself in the rags of a newspaper boy, suspenders, trousers, a newsy hat, and a scruffy shirt. She's more comfortable in clothing like that due to familiarity even as it makes her appear boyish at a cursory glance. She never quite learned the proper ins and outs of femininity. A bright spot on her otherwise dirty peasant appearance are her eyes which have a sparkling seagreen gleam to them. Her fingers, perhaps her most important trait, are small and slender and the pads of her fingers are rough from prior callusing. Even should Aisling be dressed in attire befitting that of noble or wealthy birth, it would only be like putting a mud soaked pig in a ballgown.

Background
If the hair didn't make it clear, her rough manner of speaking along with the obvious Celtic brogue paints her as a native of Éire, an island nation of the United Kingdom of Albion noted for its hills and greenery of which Aisling never really got to see. Her mother died delivering her and her father, even before taking to the drink after losing his wife, was never one to hold a job for more than a few months at a time. Aisling thus spent her childhood without the comfort of a stable house relying on the kindness of strangers or the sailors and shipmen that often made port in the city. Begging was what she knew until a better way presented itself.

Aisling, finding an old violin left to decay in an alley, took to the instrument immediately. The strings needed replacing and tightening and the bow was snapped, but a few odd jobs for the locals - delivering foodstuffs mostly - resulted in Aisling trading upwards in order to fix or replace the parts. It was not perfect, but it was hers and she played it daily and nightly. At first it was atrocious, but having little else to do during the day meant she had time to practice. By the time she was thirteen she had been playing in the streets,
busking her way to warm food at night.

It wasn't all daisies and roses. Busking was hardly a means of living and Aisling's father was unreliable and increasingly angered by his young daughter making more money than he was, even if it wasn't much at all. Always thinking Aisling killed his wife, he made a deal with a trade vessel. A quick payday for Aedan Kavanagh came at the cost of Aisling working for food on the return voyage to the main island of Albion as the ship musician. She was dumped unceremoniously in Albion with only a violin and small hands and a few tricks of the trade picked up on the voyage over.

Busking was much harder here so Aisling turned, like many of the urchins of the day, to sleight of hand and pickpocketing. She only took enough to feed herself, but the reputation of a thief caught up with her after picking the pocket of someone she really shouldn't have. She tried to run away to no avail and her punishment was her violin being smashed to pieces in front of her.

How a girl like Aisling ended up at The Academie de L’Espoir is anybody's guess and only Aisling and the one who brought her there know what went down, though her only merit is that of her musical ability. Perhaps someone saw potential in a little street urchin. She stands out for all the wrong reasons but at least there's a roof and food, provided she keeps her nose clean.

Affinities & Talents
Musical Aptitude
Physical Athletics
Economics

Additional Information
Nothing at the moment, but perhaps more to come down the road.
Well now. Suppose that means I've gotta put up a character now. Assuming it stays fine.
I'm certainly intrigued.
I hope this is okay!

Aisling Kavanagh




Name
Aisling Kavanagh

Age
16

Class Year
4th

Nationality
United Kingdom of Albion, from the island of Éire

Appearance
There's nothing elegant or refined about Aisling's appearance and at a simple glance it's easy to detect the presence of a pauper amongst princesses. It starts at the top with her hair. A messy mop of dark red that looks as if it hasn't known proper brushing or washing and the uneven bangs suggest someone cuts with a mirror in one hand and scissors in the other. Her height is almost the only thing of note, at a flat five foot five, and even then it hardly makes up for anything. Her posture doesn't do her height any favors nor does her physique which is gangly slender on the best of days. Often she had been known to attire herself in the rags of a newspaper boy, suspenders, trousers, a newsy hat, and a scruffy shirt. She's more comfortable in clothing like that due to familiarity even as it makes her appear boyish at a cursory glance. She never quite learned the proper ins and outs of femininity. A bright spot on her otherwise dirty peasant appearance are her eyes which have a sparkling seagreen gleam to them. Her fingers, perhaps her most important trait, are small and slender and the pads of her fingers are rough from prior callusing. Even should Aisling be dressed in attire befitting that of noble or wealthy birth, it would only be like putting a mud soaked pig in a ballgown.

Background
If the hair didn't make it clear, her rough manner of speaking along with the obvious Celtic brogue paints her as a native of Éire, an island nation of the United Kingdom of Albion noted for its hills and greenery of which Aisling never really got to see. Her mother died delivering her and her father, even before taking to the drink after losing his wife, was never one to hold a job for more than a few months at a time. Aisling thus spent her childhood without the comfort of a stable house relying on the kindness of strangers or the sailors and shipmen that often made port in the city. Begging was what she knew until a better way presented itself.

Aisling, finding an old violin left to decay in an alley, took to the instrument immediately. The strings needed replacing and tightening and the bow was snapped, but a few odd jobs for the locals - delivering foodstuffs mostly - resulted in Aisling trading upwards in order to fix or replace the parts. It was not perfect, but it was hers and she played it daily and nightly. At first it was atrocious, but having little else to do during the day meant she had time to practice. By the time she was thirteen she had been playing in the streets,
busking her way to warm food at night.

It wasn't all daisies and roses. Busking was hardly a means of living and Aisling's father was unreliable and increasingly angered by his young daughter making more money than he was, even if it wasn't much at all. Always thinking Aisling killed his wife, he made a deal with a trade vessel. A quick payday for Aedan Kavanagh came at the cost of Aisling working for food on the return voyage to the main island of Albion as the ship musician. She was dumped unceremoniously in Albion with only a violin and small hands and a few tricks of the trade picked up on the voyage over.

Busking was much harder here so Aisling turned, like many of the urchins of the day, to sleight of hand and pickpocketing. She only took enough to feed herself, but the reputation of a thief caught up with her after picking the pocket of someone she really shouldn't have. She tried to run away to no avail and her punishment was her violin being smashed to pieces in front of her.

How a girl like Aisling ended up at The Academie de L’Espoir is anybody's guess and only Aisling and the one who brought her there know what went down, though her only merit is that of her musical ability. Perhaps someone saw potential in a little street urchin. She stands out for all the wrong reasons but at least there's a roof and food, provided she keeps her nose clean.

Affinities & Talents
Musical Aptitude
Physical Athletics
Economics

Additional Information
Nothing at the moment, but perhaps more to come down the road.
Excited but also hoping the guild problems will be reasonable to post. :(


The struggles of the week.
I should have my character up by tomorrow, Monday morning at the latest.
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