Fallenreaper

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Lidda, Office

---

Lidda’s head tilted when Alaira reached her point. Automatically the teacher’s eyebrow raised in question, noting the strange request and examined Alaira. She inwardly was trying to determine the reason behind the request. While many students had a streak of vanity, she wasn't expecting to see it or find it practiced by Alaira of all people. This took her by surprise completely. The Amazonian female was often very proud of her gained trophies and evidence of her survival. Even when Lidda had seen her younger students offer to cosmetically heal them time to time.

Uncertain what to make of this development, her eye shifted to the unwrapped hand. Casually her torso rose higher on her chair then slid in between her paperwork, careful not to disturb it, with her paw-like hands pawing for her to examine the limb. When Alaira allowed it, she gently turned it over and over in her grip. Her narrow eyes carefully examined the flaws in its mending. It was functionable, but clearly covered in keloid scar tissue thanks to the ill care taken afterwards. This made Lidda frown more as she paused, her eyes flickered up to Alaira’s description of herself.

“Cosmetics usually come after repairing vital veins, muscles and tissue. Pointless to ‘look pretty’ if you don’t survive to enjoy it, don’t you agree? These shouldn’t be too hard to fix through I have a few questions for you,” Lidda asked, her figure bend back toward her desk. Her right paw managed to open the drawer then ruffle through it. Her words, however, continued.

“First off… why? You’ve never asked for cosmetic applications before, usually pretty proud of your survival scars. Second what after applications did you apply afterwards?” Her eyes were distracted by her search, unable to see Alaira’s reaction to her oddity of questions, “Some of Sam’s herbal salves are designed for skin health, especially to discourage build up of useless scar tissue. Finally, how do you feel about minor changes to your appearance? The novice class could use a volunteer and worse that will happen, you’ll have pink hair, purple eyes or something cosmetically odd for a few hours. That would be your payment.”

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Hello.

@Norschtalen

Hello, interested in joining or just popping in to make new friends? ^-^

Samhain Intrigues

@everyone, a PSA:

I'm dropping out of this RP, mainly because I've lost all my interest in it over the past 2 months. As it stands, @Forett is the only one affected by this really, and I'm sorry. You can keep Erin as an NPC and do as you wish with her.

Bye, and I hope the rest of you keep having fun ^.^

@Vesuvius00

Alright Ves, it was nice playing with you when I got the chance. See you around.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

BLOOD STAINED MEMORIES Part 2

Location: Lost Haven-Maine, Apartment Complex
Time: 7 am Morning (Day 3 in Lost Haven)

---

A single bar of sunlight traced Racheli’s naked skin. It glided up her exposed hip, over the curve of the ribs and past her chest before coming to rest across her eyes. Her lids scrunched as she flipped away. Her face pressed to the silken pillowcase just to shut it out as she gave a muffled groan. Short strands of hair clustered at one side and tickled at her nose, arousing her hazy mind to stir from her laziness.

Racheli finally gave in. Disgruntled, she pushed upright and smacked her pillow for her disrupted sleep. Her legs curled under her sitting posture as she hung her head, trying to collect herself. After a few moments, she pressed both feet to the carpet then stood up.

Instinctive Racheli dragged herself to the kitchen-slash-dining area. Thankfully no one but her was within the apartment or they might've gotten flashed. Comfortable in her own skin, she began to search around the apartment drawers for a few essentials to make a hot cup of coffee. It took her a good half an hour to finally round everything up then set it on the counter. When she popped open the coffee container, it finally dawned on her…

She was using both hands. Her eyes widened and stared at the newly formed arm, testing the fingers by flexing them. Slowly into a fist then straightened out once more. Each time on command like nothing ever happened.

“What the fuck?” she uttered, completely confused.

“It would've happened sooner if you had listened to me.”

Her head snapped over her shoulder, a glare washed away her shock.

“What the hell do you want?” Racheli snarled while her figure jerked around and leaned against the counter edge with her ass.

“Are you going to start that again?”

The virus countered, his vision stood firm and stiffly in place. She merely continued to scowl at him drawing a sigh from the illusion. His fingers pressed and pinched his nose bridge firmly, trying to relieve the tension building within him.

“You seem to keep forgetting I'm trying to teach you about your abilities, not hinder you.”

Irritation settled into his words, but Rach didn't care. She twisted her back to him as she began to wrap up making her coffee, placing the pitcher underneath the spout to catch the brew. The distraction was more needed than the coffee right now. Taking a moment to stretch her upper half, she decided to finally seek clothes for the day. She couldn't walk around naked and restlessness was creeping up on her.

Padding past the virus’ hologram, she reached the bedroom closet to find it fully stocked. Various clothes, from casual to see-through, were all neatly lined up across a single bar. Rach frowned then flopped a pair of ripped jeans, a tank top and button up shirt upon the disheveled bed top. She quickly grabbed some brand new panties and bra to place underneath. While she hadn't much issue, fun even, going commando, she wasn't in the mood. When fully dressed, she headed back to the bathroom for her old pants. Her hand dug around for her wallet. Upon finding it, Rach placed it in her back pocket alongside the cell Midas gave her. She then headed back to the kitchen. Her fingers gave her hair a single brush to it untangled and flatten her cowlicks down.

By now coffee permeated throughout the apartment. It was a welcoming and familiar scent causing Racheli to swoop in for a cup. As she listened to the bubbling liquid fill the cup’s bottom, the doorbell rang causing her to frown. Placing her desires on hold, she shifted and moved to answer it. The moment her hand opened the door, she found no one in the corridor. Just the newspaper with a morbid headline staring her in the face.

LOCAL BUSINESSMAN ARRESTED FOR BRUTAL MURDER OF HIS WIFE OF TEN YEARS

Her eyes tightened in curiosity as she leaned down, her right hand reached out to snatch it up. A small, pink envelope dropped from the center onto the floor causing her to pause in surprise. The woman stared at the innocent looking thing with high suspicion. Her greener than blue eyes stormed down one end then the other, seeing no one. Biting her lip, Rach quickly bent over and snatched up the letter. She twisted on heel heading back inside.

The door clicked behind her as she tossed the papers onto the table. She would look at them when she was damn good and ready, but not before. Her hand reached for the coffee to soothe her nerves. A few small blowing breaths before she sipped it, letting the warmth seep into her fibers. After a moment or two, her attention drifted back to the newspaper and the unexpected letter. There was only one explanation: Midas was fucking with her.

Snorting at the thought, she strolled back to the table and flopped into a chair. Her arm grabbed the pink envelope to see if there was a return address, but the only thing was written on it. Racheli Lorna Desdemona. A dreadful sensation erupted within her middle, her expression twisted into dislike. Cautiously she tore open the letter’s top as she slid out a card.

Her eyebrow raised in question at the birthday card as she flipped it open, the message revealed inside: I’m sorry I missed your Birthdays, but Daddy hoped your wishes came true. Racheli dropped the card. The chair squealed when her abrupt stand sent it backward, her eyes widened in shock and fear.

“What the fuck?!?” she uttered under her breath.

This couldn’t be possible, there was no way he was alive. She watched him die. Her heart thumped in her chest, the beat echoed through her ribs and rippled through her veins. Any breath she tried to expel got stuck in her throat where it tried to suffocate her. On impulse, her hands ripped the thin into pieces before she threw it into the trash. Her feet flew across the floor toward the exit, snatching a jacket along the way, before slamming it shut.

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Time

Arc 2, Day 1-Night

Location

One Night in Hell (Nightclub section), Entertainment District in Ominar

---

After Afua departed, her path wove itself back to her residence. When her hand reached out and twisted the knob, it was shoved open on her way inside. The hinge gave a loud screech as the rust resisted the movement. Her mind flinched at the sound penetrating her ears. She ignored the painful throbbing, then snapped it shut behind her. Her heavy sounds betrayed her causing seven eyes to jerk into her direction instantly, followed by needy meows and scrambling paws.

Seven felines, all in various stages of autolysis stages, pressed themselves near her ankles. Each one had traces of taxidermy along their sides where internal organs had been removed in order to prolong their ‘life’. It was a new method Afua had been trying to develop, shifting from the softer and more moist variety to drier ones using a variation of freeze drying more commonly used. It still required tweaks because the creatures’ flexibly suffered. She couldn’t help but noted a few of the cats’ tails hung to one side, often bent at odd and unnatural angles. Afua’s affection remained strong.

She bent down at her knees as she tenderly stroked their rough fur. Her fingers ruffled along the hard, bony spines drawing a dry rattle from their throats. When a few moment passed, she rose upright then proceeded to closet. She needed to pick something lovely out for Masha’s official opening later tonight.

Through it was an important night, she wanted to blend in. It was best if there was less eyes on her.

Her fingers brushed by a pair of jeans laced along the side, the gaps suited to expose her dark skin through its gothic butterfly design. The imagery caused her lips to turn up into a smirk as she gently pulled it off the rack, then tossed it upon the bed behind her. Next she located the perfect v neck tank top with broad straps. Finishing up her ensemble with a small cat choker, she applied her black lipstick and examined herself in the mirror.

Afua leaned over for one last good-bye to her pets before she walked out of the door.

~| One Night in Hell|~

The night air was chillier than normal causing Afua to regret not being a jacket. Her figure walked through the neon sea of lights, their colors altering her skin and enhancing her allure. Each step made her tight curls bounce across her face as she pulled them across her eyes. A long line stretched across the pavement to the street. The club entrance seemed backed up by the eager patrons waiting to satisfy their curiosity about floating rumors. Afua found herself faintly surprised by the fact due to the club’s reputation as she skirted past the line’s end, heading to the front.

One of the bouncers were about to stop her until she jerked up her VIP badge. Flashing it caused both men to come to an abrupt halt then waved her by, one of their arms even pushed the door open. She gave a distinct nod then strolled right in. Maybe a bit too much like she owned the place, but she had other things on her mind besides appearances.

Afua narrowed her vision across the scene. Patrons wiggled like insects partying in a corpse, their movements carefree and sometimes sexual, as they became lost in the music. She fought against the siren’s influence while she panned for Masha’s location. The necromancer found her target currently busy with another of her ‘co-workers’, Damian.

“Shit,” Afua muttered under her breath.

She couldn’t approach him without the little hybrid blabbing to Darius. Deciding to wait until Masha was alone before approaching her, she sought someone else that could give her the answers she needed: Nabriales. Resigning to her second option, she made a beeline right for him.

₇

Mass Effect Andromeda: Frontier

~|Ryria T’Vessi|~

As Sabinus’ speech echoed across the open air of Eos, Ryria twitched subtly at the mention of civilian and private experience being left at the door. Isn't her personal experience with hostile environments what got her assigned to APEX in the first place? What put her over the top of any other qualifying medic within the compound? Through these questions rattled within her brain, her lips never once asked them. It was pointless in a military operation to disagree with a superior officer without consequences. Her eyes drifted down to Matthews, the name oddly familiar, who was currently eating dirt with her push-up.

‘Yeah, it won't end well at all…’ Ryria thought sarcastically, her eyes snapped upright before Sabinius came waltzing by then left.

When he introduced the angaran liaison officer, her head tilted to observe the individual. It was officially her first time seeing one that wasn't from a distance. She will admit, secretly, to admiring the bone structure and unique anatomy. It was slightly refreshing to have someone different in the group when it came to species. The only regret came when she knew a physical was out of the question.

For medical purposes of course.

She pushed away any distractions when Sabinius ordered them to move out and head toward the dubbed ‘training grounds’. Through she hasn't been in the military for ages, she remained in good shape as she easily kept up the pace. Her thoughts dwelled on the fact they would be split up and doing a killhouse scenario. Those were a nightmare and a half.

Out of all of the defense team, Ryria felt and looked the least prepared. Through the threat of attack from Kett always hovered over their heads, it was difficult to do fine surgery when completely suited up and survival rate of her patients rated higher than her personal safety. It didn't help she was only recently informed and this prevented her from taking military measures. Thankfully, the armory had spare suits as well.

When Sabinus dismissed them long enough to grab weapons and proper gear, Ryria’s discomfort grew. There was little privacy or creature comforts within the compound, but she at least had some way to hide her scars from strangers. Here she couldn't. It wasn't that she was ashamed, but the looks bothered her subconsciously. Pity, horror, and disgust were very common. Most would stare until she was left cringing on the inside, pleading they stop over and over silently. Ryria learned a long time ago pleading rarely worked.

Not able to avoid it, she pushed herself to take the plunge then hoped for minimal reactions. Especially since they were going to be working together for the current future.

She picked a Predator heavy pistol and Mantis sniper rifle, both she knew decent enough to shoot with. Then she popped open one of the lockers where she selected a fitting helmet with matching suit. Setting her weapons aside, she began tapped the boots against the ground to ensure there was nothing crawling in them. Sealed lockers meant nothing to clever wildlife itching to find a cozy place to snuggle in. When that was done, she set the weapons to the side. After she pulled the suit overtop of her clothes, Ryria reached for her scarf as she carefully unwrapped it. Even she knew a headscarf and helmet spelled disaster.

Those that actually bothered to look or were at a close angle could see two deep, slightly discolored puncture wounds just behind her eye and on the lower jaw. Jagged lines angled from those points through the side of her mouth. The flesh seemed to have been splashed with acid leaving only essential tissues to prevent infection. It also allowed her to speak properly. Her crest back was jagged and broken, the area no longer symbolized a proper one.

Ryria finally dipped her head into the helmet before fastening into place. She finished her routine by checking each gun, calibrating it to her comfort zone. When satisfied, she fell back into formation.

Samhain Intrigues

So good, the site had to double post it.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Location: Smithy's drug and grocery store, Las Vegas
Time: Evening

---

Benjamin’s form kept low and slinked through what little smoke remained, using it to his advantage. His shadowy figure was only betrayed when light penetrated the thickness, his features still hazy and blurred in his movement. Golden eyes filled with purpose and aggression as he sought additional threats.

This wasn't over. Some instinct screamed in the back of his wild heart, the beat thumped loudly in his veins and vibrated each time. Paws danced through the scattered remains of various gains, snacks and blood leaving a smeared trail where he had paced repeatedly.

His fur bristled when his nose caught a whiff of the incoming Hounds. Little thought or planning edged into his mind when his body prowled closer. Ten men seemed ready and more organized this time. Three held strange devices at the ready while they were flanked by their fellows, their weapons raised and fingers close to the trigger. Brazenly, Benjamin’s large, bulky mass erupted from the smoke. His maws widened to latch onto the nearest man’s arm.

Fwooosh!

White, sticky tendrils poured out of the nozzle into his jaws causing Benjamin to choke midway through his action. The taste was chemical and completely horrible. He barely landed on his paws as he took a moment to claw the riot foam out, the liquid’s now solid mass took up the full front of his face. Effectively sealing his mouth shut. In his brief distraction, he made the perfect target.

Bullets sliced through the air and embedded into the younger werewolf, severing though flesh and embedded into muscle. The force’s impact managed to bash off some of the foam allowing the wolf to see. The flash of muzzled caused his head to twist away. Blood droplets and chunks of foam scattered across the tile floor, staining it red. Benjamin’s muscles tightened as he let out a deep, threatening growl. His animalistic eyes widened in anger at the sensation of bullets hitting him.

Their weapons rose again and Benjamin darted into the smoke once more. Shots peppered behind him as the flimsy plyboard was punctured in his wake, the last one managed to catch his hind leg and crippled him. An ear splitting yelp escaped him while he tried to create distance between the men and himself.

Seeming to guess this, one of the men made a circular gesture to surround him. The finger then pointed to about three individuals, two with guns and the final one with foam, to follow him.

Unaware of the danger on his heels, Benjamin whimpered softly in pain as the adrenaline died down. Something was different about these bullets. Blood dripped down his sides and made his path slick, his pads barely found purchase along the smooth floor. His fur was matted in about six places as his muscles began to feel weighed down. They barely responded to his commands. Weakly his nose turned to the nearest wound and inhaled.

Nothing. No scent, save for his blood which mingled with an off color taint. A shiver traveled up his spine. His right paw slipped as his side toppled to the ground hard, his breath laborious. The werewolf’s eyesight darkened the moment three figures appeared and cautiously walked toward him. Their weapons ready for the killing blow.

All Benjamin could do was weakly growl.

Samhain Intrigues

So I just got out of the Doctor and there are two strains of the flu going around.
Strain A has been killing people. Thankfully I have strain B, just as bad but not lethal. Regular anitibiotics don't work against this flu so they gave me something called termaflu to get rid of it. I also have strep throat on top of the flu.

@Belle

You the teddy, me the kitty. Let the healing snuggling commence!

Samhain Intrigues

I have a fever of 102, my eyes hurts and constant coughing has turned my throat into sandpaper...

Safe to say : I have the flu

@Belle

Woman! You need to stop getting sick and take it easy! *passes soup and warm blankets to sweat the virus out*