Force and Fury

the alphabet game. lol

Obstetrician

Hey there!

Welcome aboard, new person. I can definitely sympathize with having to migrate from a dying smaller RP community to this one. I made that move myself a little while ago. You'll have plenty of opportunities to dip your toes into some refreshing fantasy waters here, and we might even have the chance to write together at some point. Here's hoping!

the alphabet game. lol

Kindred

Word association Game!

Toilet

Hello!

Welcome aboard, new person and, unlike @BrokenPromise, you'll probably be seeing quite a bit of me based on those stated preferences! As they said, there are all kinds here indeed. Here's hoping we have the chance to write together in the future!

Greetings to all of you!

@aia2022

DFKM with that Roblox RP summary. Based on what you've been saying, you'll do just fine here. Welcome aboard and happy RPing!

Code Vein (Closed)

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_{Location: Cross-street Battleground @ The Ruined City // Date: February 23, 2057 // Time: 11:20 // Interactions: Akaia @Exit, Erik @FunnyGuy.}

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Lysandra was thinking irrational thoughts: emotional thoughts, and she didn’t like it. Akaia had deigned to appear sometime after Lys had rushed over from treating Vincent, and was now… being a panicky bitch. As she and Erik had helped Poppy onto Iron Horse, the human had taken a deep inward breath and ignored the priceless medical equipment being carelessly tossed on the ground by a shimmering cloud. Akaia was stressed. She was worried. Her reaction was… garbage, but Lys could sympathize with it. The main matter here was getting Poppy off of her feet and keeping her resting but awake. It was not as bad as the brain bleed that she’d feared, but a concussion was no laughing matter. There was a cut she’d briefly dabbed at with a swab while Poppy had been leaning against her wheelchair, but it wasn’t deep and it would scab. Any cut on the head bled a lot due to the density of blood vessels, but that didn’t make it serious, and definitely not worth wasting bandages on when they were at a premium. That’s just rational, Lys reassured herself, Right?

But then, as she was just about to start moving, as Desmond had agreed to start moving, Birdbrain plucked the last of their bandages from the bag, leaving everything else on the ground, including her coat, and shouldered past Lys and Erik, giving them the evil eye and some sort of… Is that the Sidhe version of a middle finger?

Uh oh…

Akaia knelt before Poppy, shifting the concussed patient and wrapping her head with the finesse of an ox, all while stealing glares at Lys and Erik. You’re testing me, the former thought. She's upset, the latter frowned. Stupid goddamned child: you are really fucking testing me right now. Against her better nature and judgement, Lys rolled up to the Sidhe. “There a reason you’re glaring at me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” she demanded. “There a reason you’re tossing our sterilized medical supplies on the ground and wasting our last few bandages, less than halfway into the mission, for a minor scalp cut?” Her eyes were wide with anger, nostrils flared. “Hmm?” She prodded. “Because there had better be a damned good reason.”

Akaia leaned toward Poppy protectively on Lysandra's approach and then held up a hand in front of her own face. The fingers were stained a deep red up to the knuckles. “Blood.” She hissed under her breath.

Yes, Lysandra thought, ‘Blood’. ‘Hand,’ Lysandra thought. ‘Bandage,’ Lysandra thought. ‘Pah-pee’, Lysandra thought as well, in the most condescending internal tone. For fuck’s sake, I am surrounded by intellectual pygmies. She raged at their stupidity, simplicity, and emotionality. For just a split second - so fast that she could later convincingly deny that it had ever happened - she hated Akaia with every fibre of her being. She hated the mission. She hated the team. She hated herself for needing the team to be able to do anything of consequence. Then, it passed, a hot wash of guilt and recognition of her hypocrisy following quickly on its heels.

In psychological terms, this was the ‘Curse of Knowledge’: when you’re advanced enough on a topic, it can be hard to explain things to people who aren’t. It can be hard, even, to see their perspective. Lys realized that she hadn’t even explained. She should’ve seen this coming. She should’ve said something to prevent the inevitable freakout. Akaia was… protective of Poppy. Lys was… not good with other people’s emotions. She knew that. God, if only the world could all just see things my - objectively superior - way. She indulged herself the arrogant little thought, not truly meaning it, at least not entirely.

“Yes,” she replied, counseling herself calm. “I know she’s bleeding. I know it looks bad.” She tried not to use the voice that she would with a very young child - that was condescending - but it was an effort not to. “Akaia, part of that is because you keep touching it, and most is because that’s what happens with head cuts. There are a lot of blood vessels in your head, but there’s no real danger. I would’ve wrapped her if there was.” Her eyes flicked between the two Sidhe and briefly over to Erik’s silently engaged face before returning. “Why didn’t you trust me? Or at least ask me? Are we teammates or not?” She didn’t really even want to deal with this. She put hands to wheels, ready to turn away and deal with shit that she knew how to handle. There were no more bandages. The supplies were still on the ground. Someone would have to clean up the mess.

Akaia shook her head. "No time." She then pointed at her head in a gesture that didn't make any real sense. "I fee-... kno-...I kno-... " Her face turned to a grimace as a thought became lodged and instead of voicing it she grabbed her chest and grunted quietly. "'If you don't help you will die.'" She said in someone else's voice. There was a quiver to her lip as she spoke though it was hard to tell if it was from her anger or something else.

Lysandra regarded Akaia incredulously for a moment. That wasn’t a threat. It was a mimic. Someone had spoken precisely those words, in that tone, to the Sidhe at some point and she’d thought it meaningful to bring up right now. Lys jerked forward, blinking. “Flower Power, what the fuck? Who said that to you? Why are you trying to creep me out?”

“A dead man. Dead. I ki-” She stopped herself before she could finish the word, biting her lip as if she were holding something in rather than forgetting it. Her body seemed to tremble slightly.

Lysandra raised an eyebrow. “I think the word you were looking for was ‘killed’, hun, unless it was ‘kicked’, in which case I’m jealous.” She paused, tucking away any sort of mocking attitude. This was clearly a matter of import for Akaia. “Listen: I’m sure you had your reasons. I’m sure it still doesn’t feel good to kill someone.” She reached out and squeezed the younger woman’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna pry, but it sounded important. Trust me: Poppy will be fine unless something big changes, and I’ll be keeping an eye on her. You can join me, but I need to know why you’d tell me that. It sounded really important.”

Akaia looked at Poppy and then at her hand, staring at the red for a moment before turning back to Lysandra. As she opened her mouth to speak, her lips began to form the edges of a word but before she could speak it, the shape changed as if she was fighting with herself. “Pa-pee will be fine.” She repeated in her own voice. “Promise.” Although stated, it was delivered as if it were a question or a challenge, the answer to which she waited on bated breath.

Lys scowled. She hated being put on the spot. There were so many variables, and now Akaia was dangling her cooperation out there as reward for a promise that no responsible medical practitioner would ever make. Nothing was an absolute but, to the best of Lysandra’s knowledge, Poppy would, indeed, be okay unless outside circumstances intervened. When will you people learn to stop asking me for answers? “I promise that she will be okay as long as she is kept safe and protected.” Lys sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the back of a hand. The air was scratchy. “Now we have to get moving and I need to know why you’d say something like that. If someone or something out there is trying to kill us or knows about a danger, we all need to know: not just me.”

“It’s not anything to worry about.” Erik butted in, his tone oddly stern towards both Lys and Akaia. “Akaia, Pops will be fine, okay? Lys has her.” Erik closed the distance between he and Akaia, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I promise." He gave Akaia a slight squeeze before giving Poppy one more glance.

“With Poppy staying with the Rear Team, I’ll need you all on your toes.” ‘On your toes,’ Lys snorted inwardly. Cerise, Akaia, and I will ensure you’re informed of the threat ahead. That or we’ll take them out if we feel it’s easier. Remember, it’s not about killing every Lost we see. It’s about getting in and getting out.” His eyes then peered down at the medical supplies on the ground. With a crouch, he scooped them up. They wouldn’t be very effective but Erik decided to pocket them anyway. It was just the way he was. Finding use in the lowliest of junk.

“Uhhhh, Erik?” Lys prodded.

“Hm? What? What did I forget this time?” His eyes were wide and attentive.

“So, all concerns about pretty much every bit of good medical practice aside, you uh…might not want to put a scalpel in your pocket.” There was a brief pause as Erik just awkwardly stared at Lys for a moment his eyebrows perked up.

“Crap!” He quickly dug into his pocket, which was a frightening sight and fortunately removed the scalpel with that bright smile of his. “Thanks, Lys!”

Lysandra put on her winningest smile. “Anytime gramps. Gotta save the senile from themselves.” She winked as she put hands to wheels and started moving, bending over briefly to pick a stray pill bottle up and toss it onto her lap. It was all an act, of course. Akaia had said something important: literally about a person or thing that could kill them, and Lys struggled to think of anything more worth worrying about than that. Yet, when she’d inquired, she’d pretty much been told to sit down, shut up, and ask no questions as if she were some petulant child. The first was no issue; it was every day of her life. The second was harder, for it went against her nature. The third was impossible if she were to do her job as the Commune’s head (and only) researcher. The old guard were keeping secrets from her, plain and simple. She wasn’t trusted at that level, clear as a ray of sun. There might've been confounding variables, but she wasn't even privy to those, and that, in particular, stunk. Lys hadn't made any more of it mostly for the sake of group harmony during a dangerous mission and because Erik, for all that he claimed not to be in charge, very much was. There was simply no winning play. Moments like this were why she’d been a lone operator for the first twenty-eight years of her life and why the four since had sucked. She rolled along in silence, glancing back at Poppy with a slight twinge of worry and at Erik and Akaia with well-hidden resentment.

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Greetings and salutations

Welcome aboard, new person! I definitely know what it's like to have to leave an old RPG home as it kicks the bucket. This is a good place - not a perfect one, but good, I promise! There are quite a few brilliantly creative nerds around here and I hope I'm not giving myself too much credit in counting myself among them. I look forward to writing with you at some point down the line. I'm pretty big on the fantasy and historical genres as well, so hopefully our paths cross. Stay awesome!

Word association Game!

Alone

Code Vein (Closed)

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_{Location: Cross-street Battleground @ The Ruined City // Date: February 23, 2057 // Time: 11:14 // Interactions: Vincent @Daxam, Erik @FunnyGuy, Poppy @dreamingflowers, everyone else on the Rear Team mentioned.}

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Sage and Princess did a quick scan of the area and, aside from the thralls that Akaia had pinned, things seemed clear. Lysandra brought the pair of drones down, big one on the ground and Sage right into her outstretched grasp. Their buzz died away and she tucked them back into their pouches. Some of Princess' ammo needed reloading, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Injured people came before machines.

It was a sentiment that Poppy seemed to share, and Lys thought that perhaps it was the only sentiment that the two of them regularly shared. With a high-pitched buzz of wings not dissimilar to the sound of her drones, the team's healer began flying over from the forward group to join the rear. Ajax and Desmond appeared fine and Lys was both shaken and stirred but otherwise unharmed. It was Dallas and Vincent who were in rough shape. The former had a busted nose and arm, from the looks of it, while the latter had what appeared to be a badly broken forearm.

"How is everyone back here..?" Lys looked up, blinking, into the diffuse glare of the near-midday sun and its sickly veil of clouds. Poppy hovered only a foot or two above the ground and there was something distinctly... off about her movements, but Lys didn't press. "Pretty banged up," she replied, as Poppy hovered and checked over her, Ajax, and Desmond, asking the usual, almost perfunctory medical questions. "Main concerns are Dallas and Vincent, I think. They got it pretty bad."

Poppy seemed to have come to the same conclusion at about the same time. She fluttered a bit away from the group of three and... knelt on the battered pavement. A flash of worry pricked at Lysandra's stomach, but she tamped down on it. Probably just the sprain but... possible limb weakness? Brain hemorrhage? "Dallas I need you to sit down next to me if you can.."

Lys glanced over. Vincent and Dallas had been talking. She'd been about to break them up herself for treatment, but had hesitated. She'd been trying to change, the past few months: making a concerted effort to be more approachable, nicer, and less pushy. To those two at least, she got the sense that she wasn't just 'that bossy rolling bitch', and she was scared of damaging the positive impression she'd made. Irrational, she scolded herself. They need medical treatment.

"Hey you," she called, making her way over to Vincent, "Megamind."

He turned. "Me?"

"No, the other dude standing around with a broken arm."

"Dallas?"

"Fuck. Okay, 'You, Vincent!' That better?"

"I mean, whatever's good." He grinned agreeably and Lys rolled her eyes, suppressing a rueful smile of her own as she coasted to a stop and twisted to reach into her bag for her first aid kit. "Make yourself useful and look for something to use as a splint," she told him, fishing the kit out and opening it.

"A splint?” Vincent echoed. Then, he looked down at his arm, which had turned an ugly purple, and seemed to remember his broken forearm. "Oh, that! You sure no one else needs help worse than me? I mean, I can wait.”

“Yeah, ‘that’.” She pointed pointedly. "And it can’t wait. You want me to have to re-break the bone?” Softening her voice a little bit, she looked at him and shook her head in what she hoped came across as understanding as opposed to tiredness. “Poppy’s dealing with Dallas and he’s the only other one who’s really hurt.” Besides maybe her… At that moment, Lys noticed a narrow spar of wood, the kind used in wall framing, sticking up from a pile of rubble. She backed up a couple of pushes, turned, and yanked it out with a little grunt of exertion. "Come ‘ere,” she told him, extricating a bandage roll from the kit on her lap.

For a moment, Vincent thought about once more trying to talk Lys into making sure the others were okay, but from the look in her eyes, he knew she wouldn’t be dissuaded. He sat down on a piece of rubble and held his arm out to her. "Alrighty, then, have at it,” he told her with a level of calm that one wouldn’t normally relate to broken bones. "You know, this isn’t even the worst injury I’ve had. Fighting with one eye sucks. I’m not sure how Desmond does it.”

“Don’t just dangle it out there parallel to the ground!” Lysandra hissed. “For fuck’s sake, dude!” She had already laid the splint upon her lap. "Here, arm on my lap.” She patted a thigh. “It needs support or setting it is going to be that much harder.”

Vincent did as Lysandra asked, not thinking too much of it. He couldn’t help but wince, however, as he let his arm come to rest on her lap. If he had to be honest, he was in quite a bit of pain, but years of enduring such injuries, and worse, had left him with a very high threshold for it.

Lys’ hands were as gentle as they could be on Vincent’s arm (which wasn’t very gentle, to be honest) and, after a moment, she responded to his earlier boast. “And hmm, yeah, must be rough losing thirty-five degrees from your field of view. I couldn’t imagine living like that.” She hid her smirk and her eyeroll, still not entirely sure if Vincent was as out to lunch as he seemed or if he was actually just that unaware. He hadn’t been like that in battle, though. He’d been a dynamo there. Carefully, she wrapped the bandage around his arm, feeling him tense up in pain. He wasn’t the type to make a scene of it, but compound fractures hurt, and his was both the radius and the ulna. “You’re doing fine,” she assured him, brushing his shoulder reassuringly with a hand. “If you need to squeeze or bite down on something, tell me. We’re almost done, though.”

Vincent let out a quiet chuckle. "Ah, who do you think I am? Couple of broken bones are nothing for me.” A moment passed and then he added, "Thanks for the concern, though.” When Lys finished bandaging his arm, he flexed his hand a bit before he asked with a smirk, "Now, be honest. Will I still be able to play the piano when this heals?”

She grinned back. "Terminal, I’m afraid. You ain’t never gonna walk again, Vinnie.” She bit her lower lip. “Oops, wrong movie. Anyways…” She shrugged, backing up a push, “The way revenants recover, you should be just fine. Just… don’t do anything stupid, kapish?”

"I’ll try, but can’t make any promises,” Vincent replied, well aware of the kind of person he was.

Lysandra sighed, closed up her kit, and twisted to shove it back into her bag, but it occurred to her that she’d never seen Vincent play the piano. “Wait a sec: you actually play the piano?”

Vincent barked out a short laugh and replied, "Fuck if I know! I know I’ve got rhythm, that makes fighting a lot easier. Beats me if I can do anything more than kick ass with it, though.”

She snorted. “Yeah, you’re pretty good at asskicking. I’ll give you that.” even if one of my drones was on the receiving end the time before this. She shrugged. “I know a few duets, though, so we should test that out later, assuming we pull off this mission and make it back in one piece, huh?”

Whatever Vincent may have said next was cut off by more pressing matters. “Lys, I need an assist over here!” Erik’s voice called. “Everyone else, maintain security so we don't get surprised!”

Lysandra turned on the spot, having to pop a small wheelie to get over some uneven payment, and rushed over to where Poppy was slouching. She’d known that something was wrong. She’d known it!

“Pops, how are you doing?” That was a dumb question, because the answer was obviously “wretched.” She turned to Erik and thought she could pick out the telltale shimmer of Akaia arriving. “She’s concussed," the Commune’s backup medic added. “I think. It could be something else, but let me check.”

Vincent jogged up behind Lysandra. He didn’t have to look at her to know something was wrong and quickly turned around. ”I’ll keep an eye out behind us. Last thing we need are Lost coming up on our asses.” He took a seat not too far away, ready to help carry Poppy if needed. He bounced a good-sized stone in his hand, ready to throw it at anything that might try to sneak up on them.

For her part, Lys twisted briefly - “Thanks, Vincent.” - before turning back to face Poppy. “Poppy,” she began, in a calm, clear voice. She adjusted her position so that the sidhe could lean against her wheelchair if needed. “I need you to answer these questions for me. They’re to make sure this is just a simple concussion, alright?”

At first Poppy didn’t answer any of them. Her ears were ringing and she covered them with her hands, drowning out the concerned voices around her. She opened her eyes to look at Lysandra. The contours of her face were blurry and faded in with the background. Poppy focused on Lysandra’s brown eyes. The answers to the check up questions were out of order and she answered them very slowly. Poppy knew she had a concussion and, after piecing things together, Lys knew it too. Bad as that was, the latter decided, it was better than the other diagnosis she’d feared. It wasn’t a brain bleed. She’d been favouring that leg because of the ankle and not any limb weakness. Small blessings, Lys thought. She’d take what she could get.

Poppy leaned back against the wheelchair and breathed slowly, her eyes closed. The cool metal kept her from fading into unconsciousness. After a couple of minutes Poppy somehow managed to heave herself from the street, steadying herself on Lysandra’s wheelchair. She looked around, almost like she didn’t know where she was, a pained and troubled look on her face. Her gaze kept wandering until she noticed Vincent standing guard. Poppy kept staring at him, feeling as if she’d forgotten something important.

Lysandra noticed her gaze after a moment. “Pops.” She knew how hazy things could be when you were concussed. She tried to make sure she had Poppy’s attention. “I helped him already. See, his arm’s wrapped. I made a splint for him.” She reached up gently. "You need to be off your feet right now. You know this. She turned to Erik. “We can use Iron Horse. Means I might need the odd push, but she needs it more than I do.” Truth be told, Lysandra was not looking forward to some of the terrain ahead, but she felt a bit of personal guilt. She’d gone all boom-boom with Princess and that had probably played a role in attracting all those Lost but, thinking about Vincent and Dallas and just how many enemies there’d been, drawing a swarm had been all-but inevitable anyhow. You’re trying to let yourself off the hook, she realized. Lys reached into her pack, pulled out a controller, and made a few adjustments. Horsie decoupled from the back of her wheelchair and spread out into a little platform one could sit or recline on. She switched the input to ‘follow mode’ and set herself as the target. "Help me get her on?” she prodded Erik, also glancing at Poppy.

“Aye aye cap'n!” Erik winked at Lys, glad to see she was helping handle things as the alternate medic. He carefully carried Poppy, minding her injuries of course. Once Iron Horse positioned itself closer, Erik set the Sidhe down but didn't let her go. He didn't trust her balance. “Pops, you good? You're about to get carried around like a princess.” He grinned, trying to make her predicament seem less gloomy.

The medic wasn’t in any shape to protest. When Erik refused to let her go, Poppy also held on. She was feeling dizzy and didn’t trust herself not to fall off the metal contraption. Her hands squeezed Erik’s forearms.
“I’m dizzy…”

Iron Horse was not yet moving and Lysandra could see that sitting up for long periods would be a stretch for Poppy. She rolled up and spotted the Sidhe, just in case. “Pops, lay down, okay?” She flicked a couple of switches and the servos in Iron Horse hummed as it unfolded further and flattened out into something more like a movable stretcher. There were gaps, of course, and it was far from comfortable, but it was safer. Poppy didn’t protest.

Lys laid a hand on her shoulder momentarily. "We gotcha, Flowers. You just take it easy.” She backed off and took a few pushes forward, experimentally. Horsie did what it was supposed to and Lysandra was satisfied enough, she supposed. "I’ll take first shift with her,” she promised. She took a deep breath and glanced around at the others. They were standing, brushing themselves off, talking, moving restlessly. "Right then, let’s move. We’ve got ground to cover.”

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