I got struck with inspiration at 1:30 AM.
I miss those days.
IAmTheIsland Member
A Victim of the Transience of Life
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Finally got around to deleting emails from over a decade ago. Look at me go!
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Best I can do for you is a Mr. Pibb
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A police officer came to my door; said he was looking for suspect with one eye. I told him he'd probably have an easier time if he used both eyes.
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Bio
Not born in a log cabin, I came into the RPing venture around 2009 and quickly joined about twenty roleplays more than I should have at the time. I've been around the internet in that time span, participated in and run RPs on multiple forums, and brushed shoulders with a wide variety of players and characters. Getting to work with new people has always been part of the allure of the experience.
My interests in RPing are pretty diverse, and not genre-specific; if there's room at the table and I can think of a dish to serve, I'll cook something up for just about any meal. If you know what I mean.
Post-Rock enthusiast
My interests in RPing are pretty diverse, and not genre-specific; if there's room at the table and I can think of a dish to serve, I'll cook something up for just about any meal. If you know what I mean.
Post-Rock enthusiast
Most Recent Posts
I miss those days.
⚞ WREN ⚟
⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱
⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱
___________________________
๑ Chapter 1 - Welcome to Corinthia ๑
Friday 6th February
4:00AM, At The Lee Household, Newham
___________________________
๑ Chapter 1 - Welcome to Corinthia ๑
Friday 6th February
4:00AM, At The Lee Household, Newham
___________________________
The Dawn hadn’t quite broken over the city at the hour in which Robin Grace Lee had woken. The dark shroud of a cold winter’s night lingered outside of the windows of her Grandmother’s townhouse in Newham. The old, storied structure creaked and cracked like aged limbs as it settled and weathered a mild breeze against its front side; somewhere in the house, a window rattled. The outside of the glass surfaces bore a layer of frost built up over the course of the night prior, obscuring the image of the outside, where the light of streetlamps served as the sole source of illumination. Through the walls, the residual noises of sleeping neighbors in the connected homes on either side could be heard: a knocking of a headboard as one might roll over in bed, or an overly loud snorer, or perhaps the sound of an early riser preparing their breakfast.
For all accounts, it constituted a peaceful morning.
Such was one upon which Robin, or “Wren” as she preferred to be, would have otherwise been content to remain adrift in dreams. Indeed, the comfort of her mattress, the warmth of her covers, and the firm hold of her pillows called to her, wondering why she would abandon their protection on such a morning. Instead, she had set herself deep into ritual. She sat alone in mediation in a small, windowless room; an inner-sanctum of the townhouse. With her, the warmth of the furnace and hearth were joined by the subtler radiance of candles. The scents of Sandalwood and Pine from burning incense had consumed the room, and elevated her mind closer to the spirit plane. A hungering rumble of the stomach, and a thirsting dryness upon the tongue were both willfully ignored by their owner, who had, for the moment, transcended; she’d feel both in full once her consciousness returned to the mortal world.
All of this: the early rise, the burning wicks, the smudged incense, and the fasted state, were not without their purpose. They were all necessary for achieving the purest, and deepest connection with one’s ancestors.
And why the need to reach out so?
Wren, as a ‘Hedge Witch,’ drew the greatest sum of her Magika through a spiritual connection to those that preceded her in her family’s bloodline. Their power flowed into their descendants like a long river letting out into increasingly greater pools of water. While many of her powers could be exercised without the formalities, the greatest feats required ritual; the greater the feat, the more time, preparation, and energy needed to accomplish it.
For this morning, her need for her ancestor’s gifts of strength and fortitude were almost as great as they had ever been. In fact, only once in her life thus far had she needed more from this bond to her past; she hoped that she’d never need it that much again. For today, the occasion was simple, yet momentous. A time of departure. She would be leaving the home of her Late mother, and her Grandmother, still alive, before her. Her adventure would be brief at the outset, merely bringing her to another part of London. But in the longterm, even her predecessors could only offer speculation on. She’d be joining the Corinthia Coven, where she hoped to find a solution to a matter that had been a feature of her bloodline for generations, and which had been the curse that had taken her mother from her before either were ready to be apart.
Wren cared little for the admonishments that some of her ancestors offered. From beyond they could all see that Corinthia was in track to try the Elders’ patience… perhaps an understatement. The spiritual conversations were less discussions and more like shouting matches, which might have woken the neighborhood if they had been engaged in spoken words. Wren’s ancestors would finally relent and offer their protections once she had declared that the line was hers to carry, and that their contract was to support her in her goals, not push their own agendas upon her.
When Wren finally emerged from her meditation, it was though she had woken from a fierce battle. Her soul felt sore, and riddled with the lashes and bruises that being assailed by dozens of foes would have brought about. But these feelings didn’t last long, fading quickly behind her awareness of her body’s state of thirst and hunger.
“You’re ready, dear.”
“Thank you, Mom.” Hazel eyes opened to the warm, soft glow of the candles. Slowly, Wren arose upon her feet. With respect to the ceremony, she extinguished the candles one-by-one, and tamped out the incense until the aromatic smoke ceased to loft up from them. Only when the room was dark and scentless, did she offer her final respects, and exit the small room into the living room.
“Did it go well?” Her Grandmother had awoken before her that morning, and stood vigil in case the ritual had taken a bad turn.
Wren yawned tiredly, rubbed her eyes, and answered her Grandmother’s inquiry with a sincere smile and a courtly nod. The meeting of the pair’s eyes, and the noticeable trickle from Wren’s. told all: ‘They are with me; SHE is with me.”
“Very well then,” her grandmother said, standing up with the aid of a gnarled walking staff. “Then let’s get you fed, hydrated, and off to Corinthia.”
For all accounts, it constituted a peaceful morning.
Such was one upon which Robin, or “Wren” as she preferred to be, would have otherwise been content to remain adrift in dreams. Indeed, the comfort of her mattress, the warmth of her covers, and the firm hold of her pillows called to her, wondering why she would abandon their protection on such a morning. Instead, she had set herself deep into ritual. She sat alone in mediation in a small, windowless room; an inner-sanctum of the townhouse. With her, the warmth of the furnace and hearth were joined by the subtler radiance of candles. The scents of Sandalwood and Pine from burning incense had consumed the room, and elevated her mind closer to the spirit plane. A hungering rumble of the stomach, and a thirsting dryness upon the tongue were both willfully ignored by their owner, who had, for the moment, transcended; she’d feel both in full once her consciousness returned to the mortal world.
All of this: the early rise, the burning wicks, the smudged incense, and the fasted state, were not without their purpose. They were all necessary for achieving the purest, and deepest connection with one’s ancestors.
And why the need to reach out so?
Wren, as a ‘Hedge Witch,’ drew the greatest sum of her Magika through a spiritual connection to those that preceded her in her family’s bloodline. Their power flowed into their descendants like a long river letting out into increasingly greater pools of water. While many of her powers could be exercised without the formalities, the greatest feats required ritual; the greater the feat, the more time, preparation, and energy needed to accomplish it.
For this morning, her need for her ancestor’s gifts of strength and fortitude were almost as great as they had ever been. In fact, only once in her life thus far had she needed more from this bond to her past; she hoped that she’d never need it that much again. For today, the occasion was simple, yet momentous. A time of departure. She would be leaving the home of her Late mother, and her Grandmother, still alive, before her. Her adventure would be brief at the outset, merely bringing her to another part of London. But in the longterm, even her predecessors could only offer speculation on. She’d be joining the Corinthia Coven, where she hoped to find a solution to a matter that had been a feature of her bloodline for generations, and which had been the curse that had taken her mother from her before either were ready to be apart.
Wren cared little for the admonishments that some of her ancestors offered. From beyond they could all see that Corinthia was in track to try the Elders’ patience… perhaps an understatement. The spiritual conversations were less discussions and more like shouting matches, which might have woken the neighborhood if they had been engaged in spoken words. Wren’s ancestors would finally relent and offer their protections once she had declared that the line was hers to carry, and that their contract was to support her in her goals, not push their own agendas upon her.
When Wren finally emerged from her meditation, it was though she had woken from a fierce battle. Her soul felt sore, and riddled with the lashes and bruises that being assailed by dozens of foes would have brought about. But these feelings didn’t last long, fading quickly behind her awareness of her body’s state of thirst and hunger.
“You’re ready, dear.”
“Thank you, Mom.” Hazel eyes opened to the warm, soft glow of the candles. Slowly, Wren arose upon her feet. With respect to the ceremony, she extinguished the candles one-by-one, and tamped out the incense until the aromatic smoke ceased to loft up from them. Only when the room was dark and scentless, did she offer her final respects, and exit the small room into the living room.
“Did it go well?” Her Grandmother had awoken before her that morning, and stood vigil in case the ritual had taken a bad turn.
Wren yawned tiredly, rubbed her eyes, and answered her Grandmother’s inquiry with a sincere smile and a courtly nod. The meeting of the pair’s eyes, and the noticeable trickle from Wren’s. told all: ‘They are with me; SHE is with me.”
“Very well then,” her grandmother said, standing up with the aid of a gnarled walking staff. “Then let’s get you fed, hydrated, and off to Corinthia.”
6:15AM, At the Corinthia Coven
The four o’clock hour went by. By five-thirty that morning, Wren was in transit across town to the south side of London, where the Corinthia Coven had set up its house. The journey there held little of pertinence. Wren remained inwardly focused, thinking of her plans, goals, and intentions. Any attention given to her fellow commuters was for the simple sake of her being aware of her surroundings, rather than dedicated people-watching.
Shortly after six, she stepped out from a bus. Carrying her packed belongings a short distance down the sidewalk, she arrived at the address she had been given. It was just about as expected: a dark-hued building, built of brick facade, that cast an imposing shadow over the lot before it. Collecting herself behind what guards her ancestors had offered her, she approached the old Victorian. The feeling of passing through the threshold was as heavy as the doors themselves, though it lightened significantly once she set foot in the open entry space where she found herself arriving shortly behind another arrival.
“I take it I’ve come to the right address? I’m Robin Lee, though I prefer to go by ‘Wren.’”
Shortly after six, she stepped out from a bus. Carrying her packed belongings a short distance down the sidewalk, she arrived at the address she had been given. It was just about as expected: a dark-hued building, built of brick facade, that cast an imposing shadow over the lot before it. Collecting herself behind what guards her ancestors had offered her, she approached the old Victorian. The feeling of passing through the threshold was as heavy as the doors themselves, though it lightened significantly once she set foot in the open entry space where she found herself arriving shortly behind another arrival.
“I take it I’ve come to the right address? I’m Robin Lee, though I prefer to go by ‘Wren.’”
Do we have an official post order? I was going to have time to get a post together tonight (worked Friday night into Saturday afternoon and was with family yesterday).
H O S H I
H O S H I
H O S H I
Traverse Town
Tired as she was, Hoshi struggled to slip into a deep sleep. Even as she did drift to meaningful rest, she found herself shaken awake by an onslaught of nightmares. Most were the same as the one she had had the last night on the Island, with her falling into the sea through water and shadow. There had been others, but as she was startled awake the final time, the details faded to the back of her mind, forced down by her will to ignore them. It was easy enough to write the dreams off as the products of stress; they hadn't started until they had a way off the Islands, and when the worries of what would happen set in.
What she couldn't ignore were the bouts of pain that crossed under her chest each time she awoke. They hit deep, more so than they had when they woke her in the apartment; her Heart pounding against . Were they part of her stress as well? Was she getting sick? It was possible, with having arrived, unprepared, on a new world; she had always been in good health otherwise. But then the thought of the hooded man came to her, rising from the nightmares like a phantasm into her waking mind. Could it have been him causing that pain? She wondered if she should have told Zac about it, maybe that was a power or magic that the group had, and why they gave him as much trouble as they did... that kind of pain in a person's Heart could leave them helpless if left unchecked.
Between the dreams and her own ceaseless train of thought, Hoshi gave up on getting any more sleep. Quietly, she gathered up the black coat, draping it over her body and working her arms into the sleeves; its larger-than-her size made it ungainly for anything beyond a casual stroll. With care not to wake anyone else, she snuck out into the hallway and closed the door softly behind herself. Avoiding crossing paths with Daisy and stepping past Max, she walked out into the open plaza of the Second District. She looked both ways, pulled the coat more tightly over her chest, and set off for the First District.
She recalled Leon mentioning the item shop in town, and decided to see if it was open.
As it happened, it was.
Hoshi walked into the shop, a bell over the door ringing to announce a customer. As she descended the stairs onto the floor, a young Duckfolk (how many of them were there?) in a red shirt and cap popped up onto the counter next to the cash register.
"Good day, Ma'am. How may I help you?" The duck asked as Hoshi neared the counter.
"Just... just looking."
Hoshi clutched the pouch of Munny she had been given, and perused the inventory. Potions for healing injuries and fatigue and Ethers, advertised to 'revitalize the spirit' were front and center behind the glass case in the counter. Hoshi picked out five potion vials, and shifted to an assortment of weapons on the wall behind the register. Most were staffs, or shields, all ill-suited for her preferences. But off to the side, in a corner furthest from her, a sword hung, gleaming softly in the shop's warm light. She wasn't sure why, but the blade spoke to her. It was as though it were an old friend she hadn't seen in a while... forgotten by memory, but familiar in her Heart.
"That sword," she said, pointing over to it.
"The sword?" The shopkeeper looked at the weapon in disbelief, but retrieved it nonetheless, hauling it with much of his weight and setting it on the countertop.
Hoshi clasped the hilt in her right hand and held it level to her head. She ran her eyes up and down the length of the pearlescent blade, nodding as she did. She backed away from the counter. She removed the coat, and gave the sword a few sweeping motions of slashes and blocks. She ended on a thrust that stopped inches from the duck shopkeeper's face. "Yeah. This feels better." She set the sword back down, ignoring the duck's shocked expression. "I'll take it. How much?"
"Oh." The duck recomposed himself. "We were looking for 1,000."
Hoshi's face hung in disappointment. After the five potions she was short by 300 Munny.
"But it's been sitting here for so long... I'll take 500 for it?"
Hoshi jumped excitedly. "You would? Thank you!" She opened up the pouch and paid the 800 munny...
What she couldn't ignore were the bouts of pain that crossed under her chest each time she awoke. They hit deep, more so than they had when they woke her in the apartment; her Heart pounding against . Were they part of her stress as well? Was she getting sick? It was possible, with having arrived, unprepared, on a new world; she had always been in good health otherwise. But then the thought of the hooded man came to her, rising from the nightmares like a phantasm into her waking mind. Could it have been him causing that pain? She wondered if she should have told Zac about it, maybe that was a power or magic that the group had, and why they gave him as much trouble as they did... that kind of pain in a person's Heart could leave them helpless if left unchecked.
Between the dreams and her own ceaseless train of thought, Hoshi gave up on getting any more sleep. Quietly, she gathered up the black coat, draping it over her body and working her arms into the sleeves; its larger-than-her size made it ungainly for anything beyond a casual stroll. With care not to wake anyone else, she snuck out into the hallway and closed the door softly behind herself. Avoiding crossing paths with Daisy and stepping past Max, she walked out into the open plaza of the Second District. She looked both ways, pulled the coat more tightly over her chest, and set off for the First District.
She recalled Leon mentioning the item shop in town, and decided to see if it was open.
As it happened, it was.
Hoshi walked into the shop, a bell over the door ringing to announce a customer. As she descended the stairs onto the floor, a young Duckfolk (how many of them were there?) in a red shirt and cap popped up onto the counter next to the cash register.
"Good day, Ma'am. How may I help you?" The duck asked as Hoshi neared the counter.
"Just... just looking."
Hoshi clutched the pouch of Munny she had been given, and perused the inventory. Potions for healing injuries and fatigue and Ethers, advertised to 'revitalize the spirit' were front and center behind the glass case in the counter. Hoshi picked out five potion vials, and shifted to an assortment of weapons on the wall behind the register. Most were staffs, or shields, all ill-suited for her preferences. But off to the side, in a corner furthest from her, a sword hung, gleaming softly in the shop's warm light. She wasn't sure why, but the blade spoke to her. It was as though it were an old friend she hadn't seen in a while... forgotten by memory, but familiar in her Heart.
"That sword," she said, pointing over to it.
"The sword?" The shopkeeper looked at the weapon in disbelief, but retrieved it nonetheless, hauling it with much of his weight and setting it on the countertop.
Hoshi clasped the hilt in her right hand and held it level to her head. She ran her eyes up and down the length of the pearlescent blade, nodding as she did. She backed away from the counter. She removed the coat, and gave the sword a few sweeping motions of slashes and blocks. She ended on a thrust that stopped inches from the duck shopkeeper's face. "Yeah. This feels better." She set the sword back down, ignoring the duck's shocked expression. "I'll take it. How much?"
"Oh." The duck recomposed himself. "We were looking for 1,000."
Hoshi's face hung in disappointment. After the five potions she was short by 300 Munny.
"But it's been sitting here for so long... I'll take 500 for it?"
Hoshi jumped excitedly. "You would? Thank you!" She opened up the pouch and paid the 800 munny...
Hoshi returned to the hotel as discretely as she had exited. The shopkeeper had managed to find a sheath for the sword, which she now had fixed to her hip and beneath the long, black coat. She had further strapped the sheath to her leg to keep it from sticking out from beneath the outerwear. She couldn’t figure out why, but she felt the need to hide the purchase from the others; perhaps simply to not be scolded for wasting Munny on a weapon she ‘already had one.’
She entered the hotel to be greeted by the scent of food wafting from the other end of the hallway; voices from the same direction confirmed to her that the others had started to wake up as well. She followed the smell of cooking down the corridor and rounded into a humble kitchen space where Lucian was already sitting to a home-cooked meal made by one of their new companions. Crossing the threshold, Hoshi’s stomach churned and growled; she had thought little about food since arriving in town, but now realized how hungry she was.
“Thank you,” she said to Donald and Daisy as she helped herself to a plate. She sat down across from Lucian as it was explained that Alias had ventured on to another world: Olympus. “I know you said not to put it on myself,” she said, poking through a piece of scrambled egg with her fork. “But I really feel it should be me to go get Alias.” She paused, and took a bite of her eggs. “It’s… the only way I’ll clear my head about it.”
She entered the hotel to be greeted by the scent of food wafting from the other end of the hallway; voices from the same direction confirmed to her that the others had started to wake up as well. She followed the smell of cooking down the corridor and rounded into a humble kitchen space where Lucian was already sitting to a home-cooked meal made by one of their new companions. Crossing the threshold, Hoshi’s stomach churned and growled; she had thought little about food since arriving in town, but now realized how hungry she was.
“Thank you,” she said to Donald and Daisy as she helped herself to a plate. She sat down across from Lucian as it was explained that Alias had ventured on to another world: Olympus. “I know you said not to put it on myself,” she said, poking through a piece of scrambled egg with her fork. “But I really feel it should be me to go get Alias.” She paused, and took a bite of her eggs. “It’s… the only way I’ll clear my head about it.”
Other than adult hindsight knowing it was a cash grab on the movie series, I don't remember having any negative opinions on it. But then, I was seven years old so what did I know. I stand by my statement that it would feel on brand for Launchpad to be a fan though. 🤷♂️
Anyone else remember the Animated Mighty Ducks series? Do we have time for that here? Could see Launchpad being a fan of them. Lol
In
๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale } { Closed }
→
4 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Hello, friends!
I’ve had a couple fantastic CS delivered to my PMs and I’ve put together the beginnings of a Thread for this project.
The link is in my Signature.
If any of you are still interested and haven’t yet had the chance to send over your CS, I’m hoping to get started over the next couple days!
Let me know if you need a helping hand or have any questions.
So far, I have a good mix of Dark, Celestial and Hedge Witches.
My Character will be an Earth Witch. This doesn’t mean you cannot apply with a Witch of these types, just in case you wanted some variation in Characters I thought it would be good to know.
Happy Character Building!
I'll get something to you later today
@IAmTheIsland As i said, im good with that and would prefer we just move on forward.
At this point we're waiting on others to make posts to jump us into our departure.
In
๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale } { Closed }
→
5 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Interested
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