IAmTheIsland

[Ryke] Adventure Guild Posting: Bom Bom Farm Escort

Abe Kaitori

Interactions: Silas Reed
@duskshine749

Pleasantries observed, and preparations concluded, the wagons moved onward, through the village, and out into the fields beyond its limits. Kaitori retained the honor of her word, setting herself before the lead wagon, and maintained a steady pace.

The early phase of the journey lent itself to silence; once the last dwelling had been passed by, both the escorts and their wards stayed a want for conversation in favor of the diligence required by the work to which they were charged. Marla and Jacob broke the serenity only to see to the ease and care of the horses; the young daughter spoke with the reverent tone befit of a temple. Kaitori, wordlessly, surveyed her partner at the parties front through a series of sideways glances; on a few looks, she noticed him giving her the same treatment, with one such moment suggesting his interest in her choice of weapon, which was, no doubt, a rare sight in this part of the land.

It would be by his words that, for Kaitori's part, the silence would truly be broken. Her eyes blinked, and held for a second's meditation as she contemplated her response to his question. When she settled on a satisfying answer, she steadied her peripheral glance upon him, and replied, "Material goods are seldom lost forever. My business is, and has been, in protecting people. For now, those two things are intertwined." She continued on for a moment, returning her attention to the road ahead, and then asked, "have you much escort experience?"

Guardians Of Earth (A Superhero RP)

👀

What kind of RP mood are you in?

Not gonna lie, the itch to find/make a High School SoL/Coming of age RP has been growing. I made a pair of characters for one about two years ago that I was actually pretty fond/proud of, but wasn't able [to get out of my own way] to play out their arcs.

Goofiest moments in roleplay

During a tabletop session (back in 2018), my party and I were on a quest to clear pests out of an old mansion. Among the hi-jinks involved:

1. We battled an animated chair and table that had armor classes well above our ability to land hits on.
2. At one point, half of our characters (mine included) climbed up the inside of a chimney to the roof.
3. My half-elf monk, on a wiffed roll, had a Jackie Chan moment jumping down 15 feet and landed on his back, stunning him for a turn.

Presently, in a Kingdom Hearts RP here, one character is apparently getting roped into an MLM by Scrooge McDuck, and a person I'm collabing with is attempting a musical number.

Arena Chat Thread

Starting to think that my formative years of CRP left me feeling like running street-level characters made me vulnerable, thus prompting me to overthink as many static safeties as possible... you know, so no one could telekinetically rip my character apart or lock them out of normal spacetime, etc.

Your first memorable original character?

Guess it depends on whose memory we're talking about. I wouldn't know who remembers any of my older characters without me prompting them of it.

So far as my memory, a character named Glyde would be the first one that I can remember the whens and wheres of his origins. He started as a Pokémon trainer in a more manga-inspired Pokémon RP (actual violence and such) in 2009. But that RP ended with little impact on his part, mostly because I was traveling when the RP concluded (in an age w/ out smartphones and data plans and wifi everywhere). Eventually I shifted gears and adapted him into Kingdom Hearts character, classing a sort of marksman-mage hybrid, which is the concept that has stuck with him through every following iteration.

Magic school and homebrew dice system (Open)

Looks like a fun one.

Heroes Rise: Paragon City

Sarah King | Ken Shimazu

^{The Lucky Noodle - Little Asia; with Kenzo Yamamoto & Ensemble}
Abilities Used: Chi Projection
@McNephelim, @Nallore

Sarah and Shimazu stood with awkward gazes glazed upon their faces. Two pairs of eyes trailed Kenzo as he exited the kitchen and left the restaurant. In sync with the closing door, teacher and student exchanged expressions with each other: Shimazu’s perplexed; Sarah’s embarrassed, and mildly vexed. She locked eyes with her Sensei, who was caught up on how best to address the behavior of his ward’s new friend. He returned the look with a raised eyebrow and a smile that threatened laughter.

“He’s a bit--”
“Yeah. I know. It’s not so weird once you know him a bit better.”

“He certainly has the bravado of a hero.” Shimazu shrugged. “Anyways, wha--”

The door opened. In unison, Sarah and Shimazu’s heads moved to see Kenzo returning. The poise and confidence with which he had walked out had conceded. Amused, the ramen chef returned the young man’s smile when he agreed to stay for a meal. “Normally we’d have to make do with what’s leftover at the end of the night. However, seeing as we had to close up shop early, I can make something to order.” He was about to turn to take an unused pan from a nearby shelf when the bell over the front door jingled, followed by the clamor of multiple sets of feet. “What is it now?” He wondered aloud. “I put up the closed sign.”

"Yo we'd like something to eat.”

Shimazu peered between shelves and racks through the window into the dining area. Sarah curiously caught a look over his shoulders. Both could see the group of nearly a dozen armed roughians making themselves at home .

“They’re definitely not here for the food,” Sarah whispered.

“Mhmmmm.” Shimazu’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. “And the atmosphere still has dust settling from this morning.”

The pair exchanged aligning countenances, and filed out from the kitchen. Sarah, following behind Shimazu gestured for Kenzo to follow as well; they’d need the safety of numbers.

“I apologize,” Shimazu addressed the group gathered in the dining room. “But our kitchen is closed for the evening.” He rolled up his sleeves, and looked around the room, giving each of the ten youths their due attention. “But if it’s… err… entertainment you’re looking for, we can certainly try to accommodate your appetite.”

“I don’t think they’re here for you.” Sarah had taken up ground next to Shimazu, and inched closer to the gang. “Check the shirts.” She pointed to the nearest of the group, upon whom she could make out the all-too-familiar “70” styled onto their torsos. “70th Street.” She asserted herself in front of Shimazu. “Valentina wants me done in that bad I guess.”

“I’m… not so sure about that.”

“Huh? Their shirts, Sensei!” Sarah pointed again, more vigorously for emphasis. “That’s the 7-0 print.”

“I know what the shirts say, but they don’t really look like Valentina’s sort… there’s something too upstart about them.”

“Either way,” Sarah retraced the path Shimazu’s eyes had taken around the room, glaring heatedly at each member of the gang. Sarah slid purposefully into a horse stance; her form flexed with the flow of energy collecting into her core. “We’ve been through enough shit for one day. These punks aren’t gonna wreck up the place too.”

“You wrecking up the place isn’t going to make things much be-- Ah!”
“HAAAAH!!”

Shimazu retreated two steps, nearly being swept up in the end result of Sarah’s stunt.

The gathered force of energy rippled forth from Sarah as she roared out a worthy kiai. The wave crashed outward into the dining room, pushing against the would-be assailants, like a small, localized gale. Chairs and tables shifted against the force, though were left undamaged. “And there’s more of that, if you don’t get lost NOW!” She stood herself tall, and fiercely, letting the presence of her energy fill the space around her; in a way she might seem larger than she was.

_{“A little more concern for others and your surroundings next time.”} Shimazu gathered himself and stood behind his pupil, showing a complicated mixture of pride and concern. “I would advise you all to go home, if you can.” He spoke to the young gang members, yet his eyes continually shifted back to Sarah.

Katherine Tran & Horace Wolfe

^{Some Non-Descript Van on the Streets of the Financial District}
Abilities Used: N/A
@Nallore

“Wolfe! We have an issue!” KT called forward from the back of the van. “Sirens going off at the station,” she clarified.

“I hear it. Let me see if I can figure out something.” He pulled a tablet from nearby. The device was wirelessly synced with the console that KT was operating, providing a scaled-down visual of what aspects of the Delgato security systems she had access to. If he could act quickly enough, the in-house security detail might consider the sudden noise a glitch in the system, or something like a mouse setting off an over-sensitive sensor; it would hardly be the first time a system so sophisticated had a false alarm. He set to work with relaxed haste and sifted his way through various interfaces.

But he would come up short. Either Tony’s system was more advanced than their scouting had determined, or their efforts were being actively stymied by his team. Either way, it seemed that Artemis’ mission would be compromised.

Still working on a solution, he moved the mic on his headset closer. “There’s no shame in pulling back,” he said. “We should cut our losses and abort, before it’s too late.”

Deputy Director Gregory Vaughn

^{Department of Superhuman Affair Headquarters - Deputy Director’s Office}
Abilities Used: N/A
@Nallore

Sigh.

A long, releasing breath escaped the Deputy Director’s chest as his finger pressed down onto the last punctuating key. Adjusting his glasses, and wheeling backwards slightly in his chair, he double and triple checked his work. Displayed in the glow of his computer screen, the detailed Incident Report from the attack on Veridian Tech stared back at him. He had been as thorough with the day’s preliminary investigation as he had ever been: eyewitness accounts were logged, the rundown of both his unit’s response and the protocols initiated by Veridian’s security team, and the involvement of Artemis in de-escalating the situation had all been accounted for.

He had, of course, found a way to omit Katherine Tran’s claim of the attacker’s Delgato ties; an accusation like that would be nothing more than a wild guess as far as an official inquiry, even if he was personally convinced of the young woman’s authenticity. For a moment, he did second guess himself on that decision, knowing that it could be seen as a withholding of information. No, he told himself. The policies were clear enough with regard to telepathy as evidence; if it wouldn’t hold up in court, then it could certainly be left aside in favor of a more direct probe. Beyond that, and more importantly, it was for Ms. Tran’s own good. If Anthony Delgato caught wind that she, or anyone for that matter, had psychically pried that kind of smear on his name, they’d be eighty-sixed before sunrise.

Content with the work he had done, he saved the report to the appropriately secured folder, and then, as per procedure, printed out a hard copy to be filed in the vault, pending the Director’s approval. He fetched it, still warm, off of the tray, and signed off on his part, verifying the accuracy of the report. Then, he quietly made his way to a closed door on the side of his office.

His and Annabelle Monroe’s offices were joined together, separated by an old office door with a blacked out window. Both rooms had their own exits into the hallway though. He and the Director could easily see each other in person, but also come and go in privacy. It wasn’t uncommon for either of them to slip out unnoticed until late the evening; nor was it unheard of for both of them to be beavering away unbeknownst to each other late into the night, only to bump into each other in the hall as they exited and locked up.

At the door dividing their offices, Vaughn froze. If he wanted to be done with the day, he could simply slip the folder with the hardcopy of the Incident Report through the mail slot below the window. His hand, folder grasped between its fingers and thumb, hovered over the slot, but then withdrew. He lifted his other hand, and rapped upon the door three times.

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale - RP }

brewing something :D

@JFK

Beer?!

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale - RP }

A Spirited Encounter

Hazel, Wren, & Noah

Hazel floated towards a voice coming from upstairs. It seemed like this girl could somehow sense her presence- unless there was another dead person here. The way her day was going, she wouldn’t be surprised. A pale skinned brunette, calling for someone she didn’t know. But Hazel felt she could hear her, see her. And that was the first step to figuring out what was going on.

“No, I’m not Juniper. I’m Hazel. Can… can you hear me?”

As far as Noah had been aware, there hadn’t been anyone named Hazel in the little introductory orientation. Her eyes darted across the foyer, to the other one in this Coven who shared the talent for communicating with the spirits and those who have gone to the next plane. An eyebrow went up, a silent way of asking if she, too, was hearing this or if Noah was simply being exposed to ethereal sounds thanks to her trip to the basement. For her own sake, she hoped it was a shared auditory moment; with her intention to live in the basement of the manor, Noah couldn’t exactly deal with wayward sorts regularly vying for attention.

“No one mentioned any Hazel in the advertisement.” Noah said, shaking her head with a sideways smirk on her lips. She was aware that the other members of the Coven were likely aware of what a Hedge Witch was…but it still might look a little awkward if they saw her talking to the open air. But at least, hopefully, she wasn’t the only one doing it. Solidarity in spiritual phone calls.


“You can clearly hear one of us,” Again Noah looked towards Wren, tilting her head to acknowledge the original speaker.
“But what about both of us? What…are you, Hazel?”

Wren remained planted firmly at the top landing of the stairs. Juniper, so it seemed, hadn’t heard her call out; nor was she the cause of the stir that Wren had felt.

”Can you hear her dear?
Her name is Hazel, evidently.”
“No. I can’t hear her. Mayb--”
“You call yourself a Hedge Witch!? Listen!”

“Maybe if you’d all shut up for a second, I could hear the other dead people!” Wren shouted, craning her neck up to the ceiling as though calling to the sky beyond the roof. “Sorry,” she said, looking down towards Noah, and presumably Hazel, with a blushing smile. “Got the whole damn family on the line.”

She took a hesitant step down the stairs. “Hazel,” she started, then fell silent, listening to make sure the choir of ancestors didn’t start up again. “You can hear us?” Wren took a second step down; as if getting closer would help her ear across the planes of life and death more clearly. “Both of us?”

“Yes, I can. The strange thing is that you two can hear me, though.” She stopped, thinking for a second. “This place, you two- there’s something clearly unnatural going on here. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m a ghost, and you’re talking to me. That’s not exactly normal physics- not that I was ever any good at that particular subject.” She shrugged, waiting for some kind of explanation.

Noah was desperately wishing there had been some kind of compendium on dealing with ghosts that she could refer back to. Every ghost seemed different, some didn’t even realize they were ghosts at all, and here this one named Hazel was different still. In Noah’s experience, when she communed with the spirits it was because she was actively seeking out those who wanted to be sought whether they were conscious of it or not. Had there been a ghost that was drawn to a place like a Coven? To those that could understand? It was a mystery, to be sure, and one of those mysteries that meant Noah couldn’t even shoot a knowing smirk towards Wren about having ‘the whole damn family on the line’. Clever.


“Well, at least you’re aware that you’re a ghost. That first step can be tricky for some. Acceptance and all.” Noah raised a hand to rub at her forehead. “Well, this is new territory for me, and I’ve been dealing with spirits damn near my whole life.” There wasn’t frustration in her tone, but Noah’s mind was racing, trying to think of anything that could aid them in this…complicated matter.


“Were you…drawn here? I mean, I can’t imagine you got a summons like the rest of us but…I dunno, why are you here Hazel?” Noah looked towards Wren and shook her head. This was new territory even for her.

Wren quietly descended the stairs and set foot back in the foyer. With the silence of her family, she could properly hear Hazel, and feel her presence; amazing what could happen when her seniors just let her cook. “We can both hear you because we’re witches,” Wren explained, detailing Noah’s statements. She drifted across the room until she formed a triangle between herself, Hazel, and her fellow Hedge Witch. “Specifically witches that have a unique bond with the spiritual plane.” She paused, and considered a pertinent question: “Were you a witch when you were… well _{No real sensitive way to phrase it}… alive?”

Hazel stopped and thought for a second. If they were drawn here, and they were witches… and she was drawn here… then… A famous movie quote ran through her head, slightly altered. ‘You’re a witch, Haz- oh, God.” Noah and Wren would feel the air grow a touch colder as she groaned. Apparently, somebody up there had a sick sense of humor.

“I wasn’t but- I have to consider the possibility now. Is there someone who runs this place? Could you take me to them?”

Wren’s head turned towards Noah, and then back in the direction Hazel’s ‘voice’ had been speaking from. “There is someone. Juniper Hawthorne. It is her home. She’s the one that called us.” Wren gestured between herself and Noah. “We could call for her… but I’m not sure if she'll be able to communicate with you the way we can.”


“Not to mention if we tell Juniper, we kinda tell the whole Coven.” Noah sighed out, scratching the side of her neck. This wasn’t at all on her list of potential happenings at the Coven, let alone happening so…immediately.
“But I feel like the others ought to know about this, right? What do you think, Wren? You wanna get her or should I?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll go.” Wren crossed through the foyer in search of Juniper. “Just stay here,” she said roughly in the direction of Hazel. “It shouldn’t be too long.”

Wren’s steps took her from the foyer and through the corridor leading towards the kitchen. As she proceeded further, a sense of weight and confinement filled the air around her. The hall wasn’t narrow, per se, but the otherwise open spaces were filled with a palpable energy. The Magic ran deep and hung thick within the Hawthorne home; the essence of generations of Witches echoed across space and time. Wren was surprised there weren’t more conscious spirits roaming the corridors of the house. Maybe even ghosts fade into energy over time, she wondered to herself. Her thoughts trailed from there, and her mind immersed into energy. A sudden feeling that fate had brought her to where she needed to be began to creep into her heart.

She came back to the physical when she caught the trailing end of a line of her coven colleagues following Juniper into the conservatory. She hastened her pace, and entered behind the others. “Uh… Juniper… we might have a situation.”