hagroden

It's a Lonely World - Open for Apps

Should we consider going on without Altai? Hellrazor hasn't been online in about 5 days.

The Horrors of Coventry - Concluded

@Nallore
_{Psst, Alex is on the Roof, not the Fourth Floor.}

The Horrors of Coventry - Concluded

Alexander A. Aster

Location: Coventry Horrors
Interacting with: A strange Child in the Stairwell

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“A magician is strong because he feels pain. He feels the difference between what the world is and what he would make of it. Or what did you think that stuff in your chest was? A magician is strong because he hurts more than others. His wound is his strength. ”

Alex's fingers slowly folded over the page, marking his place in the book as he sighed softly, setting it on his nightstand. He'd read and reread that same line hundreds of time, and each time it gave him the same response. A strong twist in his chest and the ever-growing sense of longing, perhaps for the magical lands of Fillory to open their gates and welcome him, perhaps for the words to hold true, perhaps for him to forget the wounds that have festered for over a decade and a half. What if they had thrown the party Saturday? What if he had chosen Ihop of Denny's or any other fucking brunch restaurant in that massive hive of a city? What if they had gone to First Service like they always had? Would he still be an Orphan? Or is the Universe as cruel of a place that you can't escape it's decisions, and can at most merely postpone it's choices.

With an audible groan, Alex sat up and finished off the glass of oaky liquid resting on his nightstand, rattling the ice against the cup's edges as he gave a soft cough at the burn trickling down his throat. Stop wallowing asshole, this isn't your day to mourn. He whispered softly to himself, checking his watch and turning on the T.V. to the local news station, tuning in just in time to see the Police Captain Norman Holder begin his speech.

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"Police will be doing door to door searches beginning at eighteen hundred hours. Please be advised that we are taking this very seriously."
Shit Captain, not the best way to start a day. He chuckled to himself humorlessly as he pulled on his light blue jacket, checking his hoodie's pockets to make sure his cigarettes were present. After doing a quick once over to make sure he had everything he needed on him, he locked the door to his room and left, making his way towards the stairwell. As he opened the stairwell, a child ran past him causing him to jump for a moment, before a comforting sense of warmth came to him, as always did around children. With a wide, genuine smile he called up to the child, who seemed to be standing still and smiling down at him, although the sound of quick footsteps still echoed throughout the stairwell.

"Hey bud, where are you headed?"
He called as he walked up the stairs towards him, his slight intoxication and general adoration for children distracting him from his original goal of destination. The child moved his mouth in response, however he seemed to be talking too quietly for Alex to hear him, before turning and continuing his quick path up the stairwell. With a gentle look of concern on his face, Alex continued to move faster up the stairs after the child. The boy seemed to stop and look down towards Alex at each floor, each time saying something Alex wasn't quite able to discern, and each time the look of Concern on Alex's face grew. He began to move a bit quicker, continuously looking upwards to spot the boy, and in his own rush he had stopped paying attention to the sounds around him, failing to notice that the footsteps had ceased two floors below him.

With genuine fear for the Child's well being showing as fear across his face, Alex's climb faced him with a door to the roof, which he stopped in front of momentarily before pushing through slowly. With confusion he looked across the mostly empty platform, the child nowhere to be seen.

The Horrors of Coventry - Concluded

I'll be posting after school today.

Adventures of the Blood Rose Irregulars

Argleif Donchie

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His eyes opened slowly as the vast sun loomed over the desert horizon, casting bright patterns onto his marked pupils. As the gears in his mind slowly accelerated, he yawned contently and wiped the sand in his eyes left by playful Landvættir of the eastern deserts. Looking around, he noticed that he had fallen asleep sitting on a boulder a few dozen metres from the outskirts of the encampment. As he stood, he felt a familiar rush fill his veins as his eyes pulsed once or twice. Due to his regenerative speeds, he often awoke anxiously brimming with new magic that flooded his spirit as he slept. With a burst of wind he found himself on his feet, stretching his arms and hands as small bursts of wind strayed from his fingertips, blasting sand from the ground as they made contact.

Holding his hand an arms length from his eye, he saw the sun was only four fingers above the horizon, indicating it was still quite early in the morning. Looking back towards the campsite, his eyes widened as he saw sever thin plums of smoke, and with a magically assisted leap he had returned to the encampment, kicking sand onto each of the fires still pluming smoke into the sky.

"These fools could've brought orcs to our doorstep before they had time to draw their own swords."
He murmured to himself as kicked out the last of the smoldering wood. Looking back to the sky, he began to slowly swirl wind above him, scattering the smoke until it disappeared into the morning sky. With a shake of his head, he leaped to the area they had all gathered, landing just in time to see the young Commander have his consciousness knocked from his skull. His eyes turned to the red clad warrior who had delivered the powerful blow, raising his hood as the man took control of the 100 man army.

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After about an hour, he stood with the group he was to battle with, his eyes flaring blue with anticipation as wind swirled around his hands and ankles; A peaceful, but concentrated look on his face.

Adventures of the Blood Rose Irregulars

The Assassins and a Monk, this'll be interesting.

@Arthanus How is combat for this battle going to play out? Will you be directing fights, or allow us to just go ham?

It's a Lonely World - Open for Apps

Fuck, Darul is brutal :D

@SgtEasy

Only if you get in his way ;)

It's a Lonely World - Open for Apps

FYI: The IC post is WIP, I just wanted to get something up so everyone knows I'm still breathing.

It's a Lonely World - Open for Apps

Dural Warra

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"Good Morning Newnham Campus, It's a beautiful 26 degrees out today with A nice cool Breeze."
His eyes opened slowly, the loud alarm of a radio blaring just a foot away from his bed under an Economics' exam Result with a large 99% in red marker scrawled atop the front. Sitting up with a loud sigh, he placed his feet on the cold hardwood floor as he reached for the pack of cigarettes sitting on the corner of his night-stand. With the gently click of his Zippo, he inhaled the icy smoke with pleasure as the slight buzz of a nicotine rush fully awakened him. Standing up, he gently pulled open the window to his dorm room and relished the cool morning breeze as the sun peaked over the horizon. Holding the cigarette in his mouth, he lowered the blaring volume of his alarm to an acceptable level, acknowledging the bright blue 6:15 A.M. displayed across it's screen.

Taking another slow pull from his cigarette, he pulled on his jeans and socks as the radio continued to drone on in the Background.
"...And with just a week left in the year, expect the late-night music too be at an all-time high, so you early-birds better sleep with earmuffs or have an extra cup of coffee ready for the morning, because it's going to be painfully loud until the sun peaks. I'm your host Eric Johnson and this, is Seneca Local."
The radio was cut short as Darul reset it for the next morning, dropping his cigarette into the empty ashtray as he pocketed the pack in his light Jacket. Locking the door as he walked out, he pushed his earbuds in and hit the "Play" button on his ancient I-Pod Nano, walking to the upbeat tunes of Streetlight Manifesto.

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Darul pulled out from the Campus parking lot in his Black 2010 Hyundai Elantra. Glancing at the radio he saw it was about 2:45 in the afternoon, and he was free until his 4-10 shift at the dealership. Thanks to his hedonistic mentality and sly charisma he was capable of pulling of the dirtiest of sales and becoming one of the best salesman of his branch. With the added bonus of a 25% commission rate at a Brand New dealership, he made an incredibly pretty penny that made his coworkers and employers wonder why he even bothered with furthering his education.

Thanks to the constant shrug of a response, his peers and coworkers were unaware that his plans were far from settling as an auto-dealer. After finishing his Bachelors in Accounting, he planned to go into law school. With degrees in both Law and Accounting and moral flexibility, he'd find his way into a corporate firm and quickly work his way up the food chain until creating a corporate firm of his own that'd hired only the best and brightest.

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Darul gave a nod to the small group of students waiting at his regular meeting spot, a handful of jocks on GPA scholarships with rich parents, his best customers. Pulling a file from his glove-box, he gestured for the group to approach, opening the file and producing six paper-clipped packets, organized by name.

"Derek, Six-Fifty. Kyle, Six-Twenty. Alex, Seven-Ten. Nathan, Five-Ten. Chris, Five-Seventy Five. And Jayson, Nine hundred even. Good luck on those exams boys, but don't do too well or you'll get caught."
He listed with a smirk, taking the bonds of bills one by one, up to Jayson, whom he eyed with a growing look of irritation.

"Fuck you abo, I'm not paying nine-hundred for some fucking answer keys."
The man stated with obvious anger, not paying enough attention to notice the other five backing away from him, knowing what was to come.

With a mean look in His eyes, Dural unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car-door, stepping out and walking to the other side, looking into the Jock's eyes from less than a quarter metre away.

"You know the deal Jay, we talked prices less than a week ago and you agreed. Three Hundred for each of your exams"
"But you charged those other guys way less for the same number of exams, the fucks your problem?"
"Different courses, different fees, now pay up before I make that empty skull of yours bounce off the pavement."
"Yeah right Boonga!"
And with that, Darul reached quickly into the passenger side of his car and grabbed his club, smashing it into the man's head in a near instant. With a loud yelp, the man backed away grasping his now-bleeding forehead, glaring at Darul with gritted teeth. Stepping forward, he punched Darul hard in the stomach, who in response gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of him. Taking another hit, this time to the face, Darul swung the club low, feeling an agonising crack reverberate through the wood as it made contact with the man's knee, breaking the joint almost instantly. As the man dropped to his knee in pain, Darul kicked him hard in the jaw, causing him to fall forward completely. Spitting blood into the grass, Darul walked forward and grabbed the Man's head by the hair, then smashed it hard into the concrete.

With that, he walked back into his car, speeding away as the man lay crumbled on the sidewalk.

Adventures of the Blood Rose Irregulars

Argleif Donchie

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Argleif watched the visibly talented mage turn and leave with longing eyes, envying the clear control of magic acting on her own body. In his training, Argleif never had a need to learn how to levitate himself, though he had always yearned for the freedom to soar amongst the flock of sky. Due to his youth compared to the monks around him, teachings of flight had always been kept from him as even the slightest of mistakes could have been perilous to his mortality. He had only been trained on how to match his interests with the wind's natural will, subsequently mastering his control over the great breath of life without specific usages.

He only knew to guide winds, to cause them to grow and cease, to direct them. His foundations were firm, however the heights of his abilities were far from him. In addition, the monastery had never taught him to read or write outside of the ancient glyphs and carvings of the walls and centuries old transcripts and poems, which did very little to assist in his learnings of magic, as the only texts he could read were worth several times their weight in gold.

How he longed for the comforting presence and guidance of his Eldest, for her loving touch and firm guidance. How he wished to hear her simple teachings in times as these. However he knew that he would only ever see her again in his dreams and memories, that he could only ever feel the faintest ebs of her aura through his use of magic.

As he felt the sharp cut of sorrow and longing in his throat, he kneeled in the position of prayer he had always found peace in, summoning small upwards winds to carry his prayers to the ears of The Children of Ristoth.


"Börn elsti Guðs, heyra auðmjúkust mitt hrópað til viðmiðunar. Beina mér á vegi mínum við þolinmæði, samúð, fyrirgefning og auðmýkt, að ég megi enact vilja þinn. Leiða mig í lóðir yðar með hugrekki, tryggð og Honor, sem ég kann að koma þér stolt."

He whispered, tears beginning to well in his eyes as he finished. He stayed in the position of prayer for a moment and took in a deep breath, allowing himself to feel the kind and rejuvenating touch of the Gods before standing with serenity Anew.