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Is this still open? Or are you in the thick of things?

Still recruitin'?
In Pariah 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Can I sneak in?

The Cold





The Cold was everywhere. Its omnipresence outside of the Lifeblood providing a sense of importance and otherness. It cradled the rock that hung motionless and barren in the void that it chilled. Everything was just right. Then it met the sisters.

It was fascinated by their forms, their beauty, their power. As it flowed around them and teased their skin it learnt their names and their language. Gibbou. She was dark and exotic and shone with a pure, piercing light that instantly entranced the Cold. Oraelia. She was too bright, too… warm? The Cold recoiled from her aura. What was this vile antithesis of its very essence? The Cold instead coalesced behind Gibbou, her darkened visage and cold light protection from the golden warmth radiating from her sister.

It sheltered there for a moment as it considered the meaning of this new development in its previously pure existence. It had nearly settled on giving her the benefit of the doubt when it was suddenly flung across the cosmos at lightspeed from an immeasurable sphere of heat that had appeared in the sky. The Cold clung tight to the edge of existence in terror and fury. What had once been his sole abode was now aflame with heat and warmth. It burned.

The power that flowed from the sun seemed omnipotent to the Cold and yet despite the agony it endured being repeatedly torn apart as it attempted to approach its previous home it refused to accept the exile to the edges of space. It had seen friendship, love and happiness and it was determined to have that for itself. It was then that Cold coalesced into a shape that it remembered being similar in form to those of his sisters. The memory was marred by emotion and time leading to an androgynous figure with non-descript features but details that mirrored the style of Gibbou that it had admired.

It was in this form that the Cold gathered itself together and waited. It watched the warmth recede as orbits were set in motion, deep oceans born and large vegetation shaded the undergrowth. The Cold smiled. Maybe it would still have a place in this world after all. As is the Lifeblood heard those very thoughts, the white floating figure felt the cold expand throughout the north of Galbar. The Cold grinned and moments later a barefoot touched down on the ocean’s surface beside the frozen land, the waves freezing mid-roil where the figure stepped. The water froze in all directions as the air clouded and snow began to fall once more. It looked across the endless tundra and instantly felt at home. The drop in temperature radiated from them in waves until even the well-adapted local wildlife fled. This saddened the cold and the realisation that Oraelia was even necessary in this dominion of cold in order for anything to survive, made their hatred toward her thaw slightly. At this acceptance of its place in maintaining the newer balance as it was adjusted, Bikkjekaldt was born.
Yet in order to cement his place in the world, lest he be thrown again by another power like the sun, Bikkjekaldt need to make his own mark on the world. He bent down to select the first snowflake that the Lifeblood had created and flew across the ocean surface, spray freezing in his wake, the surface now scattered with broken shards of sea ice. Only as he approached an island covered with colossal fungi did he slow. He smiled at the work of his sister, it was beautiful. He flew to the island further west, high up into the air and flung his cold out in a powerful stroke. The island erupted in frozen fractals, glaciers flowed from the peaks with the speed of rivers and enormous never melting ice crystals erupted from the ground. The cold hadn’t stopped with just the land though, the permafrost travelling under the ocean whilst the surface froze in ever-shifting floes, punctuated by iceberg behemoths. From crevices and crevasses crawled white-furred creatures large and small, whilst icebergs cracked to spawn pinnipeds and white whales. He turned to see that all was good here on Jää. But only here. Cold should exist everywhere at some time or another. He looked to the horizon, sending a chill into the deepest depths for his tentacled brother who had also cowed from the sun and more to dust the peaks of brother boar. But there would always be the warmth. How could he maintain the equilibrium all over the planet? He needed help.

He took the first snowflake in his palm and blew on it. The flake multiplied a hundredfold as they scattered throughout the air. As the air current threw them around the highest peak they began to grow. Soon each flake was flying itself using its own wings as it continued to replicate in mass. In mere moments a flock of gigantic birds were spiralling around the island. These Lumimyrsky would fly over Galbar as Bikk’s messengers, heralds and seekers in the times to come but would always have a place with him here on Jää.

Now to explore this brand new world.





I am deffo still in x




Time: Morning
Location: Somewhere in Ember Grove...
Interactions: Violet (@Princess)


Bzzt.

Bzzt.

His hand swung wildly for his phone, eyes struggling to open with an accompanying groan. Once his digits grasped his phone Felix brought it up to his face and forced open his eyes. A text from Violet.

"I doun tht wsrlpck."


What the fuck does that mean? Doun? Wsrlpck? What’s a wsrlpck? Woodpecker? Wallspeck? Wallpaper? Warlock! I doun the warlock? I found the warlock?

I FOUND THE WARLOCK! FUCK!
Felix sat bolt upright and reached for his glasses. Only to find that the bedside table wasn’t his. His eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. A completely different room, furniture, bedding and a quietly snoring guy lying beside him. Oh fuck! he thought, as the memories of the night before came flooding back. They’d had a great time with Monica - trust his cousins to adopt a newbie so quickly. He’d then had a few too many but definitely recalled making out with a guy in the bathroom and swapping numbers. He just about recalled getting home but then must have snuck out once more through his own ward to this guy’s place.

And now here he was. Hungover, in a place he didn’t know, with no useful spell casting equipment whilst his cousin was possibly in serious danger from that sinister warlock. He slowly slipped out of the sheets and grabbed his clothes as he tiptoed out of the bedroom. He winced at the sunlight as he quickly dressed in the lounge and let himself out of the apartment. Only then did he reply to Violet:

"Be careful! Where are you?"


He orientated himself on the street outside and started the chilly walk home, hoping that the brisk walk, fresh air and decent coffee en route, would clear the cobwebs from this mind.
Professor Noah Cooper


He walked into the staff room to find that he was the first to arrive after the Headmaster himself. Of course he was early. He was Noah Cooper.

He’d spent the afternoon unpacking his belongings in his suite of rooms on the 1st floor. The thrill at using that concealed door in his office joining the multitude of emotions bubbling just under the surface of his otherwise collected demeanour. His large collection of houseplants quickly transformed the rooms into a jungle and he promptly covered the cold, stone floors with layers of thick, soft rugs. He released Minerva from her travel case and with a momentary frigid glare thrown in his direction she crept off to explore the rooms that were once inhabited by her namesake. In his office his books were unpacking themselves, shuffling themselves along the shelves to accommodate new additions in alphabetical order alongside the tomes he’d inherited alongside the room’s other furnishings. A few transformations of his own later and the room was distinctly lighter and the furniture more modern much to the tutted disapproval of a portrait or two. He left the rest of his belongings to unpack themselves and settled down to fill a binder with copies of his schemes of work for each year group to present to his new boss.

Leaving his suite an hour later, papers in hand he got dead-ended by the moving staircases twice. Apparently they weren’t any better for teachers. The short walk down had been bizarre to undertake in quiet. Even on the occasionally holiday period he had spent here there was always a hubbub of talk and laughter. Yet with not students the only voices he heard were the hushed conversations of portraits and ghosts. He had taken a detour to classroom 1B and walked around the room with fond memories. Deciding to keep the room’s layout the same he took a seat at the raised dais at the end of the room and smiled. He rubbed his hands along the smooth mahogany desk and couldn’t believe that he was sitting here - on the other side of the desk that he had looked up at the most for his entire schooling. He thought of his peers and drummed his fingers in excitement at seeing both Bex and Devin again and dread at seeing Disaster Ana. Yet apart from those three he had no idea who his other colleagues were.

And here he was, still in the metaphorical dark. As he stepped into the room he was impressed with the luxurious furnishings and tapestries, although couldn’t help but thinking that it was a very Gryffindor colour scheme… He noticed a bearded figure in one of the large winged chairs and suddenly found himself standing straighter and clearing his throat.
“Adam Chapeau, I presume?”
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