Lemons

Young Adult Demi-God Academy Roleplay

So basically it's Percy Jackson meets Harry Potter?

I'm down. Sounds kickass. In fact, I already want to make a character, even before a CS.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

@Inkarnate

Eeeehehehehe

Also, question: what's the actual process of casting a spell? Are there circles, like Fullmetal Alchemist? Incantations, like Legend Of The Legendary Heroes? Material and somatic components, a la D&D? Or something else entirely?

ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ: _ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

I'm back, and real sorry for vanishing on you guys like that. Computer took a little bit of a nosedive, so I had to wait quite a while to get it repaired. Turns out that it couldn't be repaired, and I had to buy a new one anyway. But I'm back now, and sorry I left in the formative week of this RP. Hopefully things'll get rolling again.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

Etoile

---

I hate forests.

Such was the primary thought in Etoile's mind as she clung to the back railing of the barge with her prosthetic limb, watching the forest go by. The main reason, of course, for her current spiteful irritation was the occasional low-hanging branch that, while not thick enough to injure her, whipped her with a fair deal of force. Her face was bruised in two places and carpeted with welts, and though the arm supporting her was metal and thus rather less prone to such phenomena as exhaustion or aches, the legs that served to anchor her in place were beginning to cramp from remaining unmoving for the last several hours.

As much as she hated to admit it, her funds were very much limited. Her days with the church were still relatively fresh in her mind, and chief among those memories were those of eating extravagantly, sleeping in the finest inns, and most relevant to her current situation, traveling in comfort. Back before she had cut ties with the organization, she'd basically had money poured into her lap—usually from fear—anywhere she'd gone. Being the realist that she was, though, she had to acknowledge that now, those days were over. She only had what she stole from her family before she'd departed, and though it had been a considerable fortune at the time, living had expenses, especially in this day and age. Her money had rapidly begun to trickle away, and it wasn't long before she'd resolved to only use it when absolutely necessary.

And if that meant she had to resort to bargehopping, well, so be it. It was uncomfortable, yes. She was wind-tossed, cramped, and cold, and occasionally, she'd had to hide from the few that had ventured to the back of the craft over the past several hours, true. She'd been slapped in the face by intruding branches from Ifrise, absolutely. But it was free, if less than legal. So on the whole, she'd squared her shoulders and gone along for the ride. Her white cloak had been stowed away into the pack on her back, leaving her only in a close-fitting, long-sleeved blue shirt and black pants that did little to break the wind away. She'd have appreciated the warmth of the long garment, but reason won out as she realized that it would flap out behind her for about five feet because of the wind. Not only would it be useless to her, but it would be a blatant flag of HERE I AM COME GET ME, and that was the last thing she needed right about now.

As for why she was going to Thlecia in the first place, well, she had her reasons. Some might have been going out of a desire to escape Iquenos, to go somewhere where they foolishly thought the Ecclesiae would have lesser power. Doubtless, the vast majority were simply working on the freight barge. She didn't know, and didn't much care. Since she'd gone on the run, she'd been living her life day-to-day. Did she have food, for example. Water? Shelter? And how far could she get from the Inquisitors chasing her? That final thought was what had prompted the impromptu hitchhiking of the Eoldysseus. Since she wasn't technically traveling—as in, she'd bought no ticket, paid no fees, left no name—there wasn't a way to track her by any records. She'd simply reappear a long way away from the last place she was seen. That was the hope, at least. She'd never tried in the past, simply because she'd shrank from the idea of stowing away on a craft like this. Her refined preferences, though, like her money, had been quickly petering out in the face of persecution and possible death. And so here she was.

For a time, she'd been able to use densus ventus to create a transparent wall in front of her, blocking out much of the wind that hissed around her. Realistically, though, she'd only been able to keep the wall up for an hour at most, and after that, she'd been without shelter. Her teeth chattered, and she realized that she couldn't feel her fingers. I should've invested in gloves. That was a stupid mistake, the kind I need to make no more of.

As the wind had flown past her, she'd heard snippets of the conversations of those on deck. Few had interested her; it was largely the same gossip that had always followed the common-folk about. This noble did this, this noble did that, and did you know that so-and-so bedded this person? She'd come to pretty much entirely dismiss what she'd heard, letting it become as much of a background noise as the surprised shrieks of birds about them as the barge trundled through the otherwise-peaceful forest. Still, she was listening just enough to catch a particularly interesting bit of news as a few workers spoke:

"Hey, so what d'you think of 'im?"

"Mmf. Seems alright 'nuff, but you know well as I do he's one of them blasted churchmen. Won't do to get too close to 'im."

"Mhmm, yer right 'bout that. What's 'is name? Alrec? Aladdic? Somethin' like that, I think."

"Alaric, 'e said. Alaric Fasalus, or Fasarus, can't 'member. Wish I knew where 'e was geddin' off. Seemed real nerved too. Like to jam a stick up 'is uptight ass."

Their conversation dissolved into laughter and Etoile rolled her eyes. True, it could be considered heretical for people to talk like that about an ordained cleric. But these two were on the job, in a remote place in between The Middle Of and Nowhere on any map. What the Ecclesiae didn't know wouldn't hurt them. What they said, though...now that was interesting. And it could certainly be problematic. She'd originally intended to keep hanging on until the barge reached the end of the line, but if Alaric Fasarus—she'd heard of him once—decided to ride all the way as well, as he was probably going to, there would be quite a few more Inquisitors than she'd bargained for. Making a quick decision, she decided that she would get off at the next stop as long as he didn't. Whether or not she was in Thlecia didn't matter much in the end; she'd bee going for a while, and there would definitely be some distance and confusion. Enough to buy her a day or two, at least.

Comfortable in her resolution and resigned for at least another few hours until they reached their next destination, she sighed infinitesimally quietly, settling down to wait.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

Computer hoooooooo!

There will be a post up within the next day or two from me.

And just to add my own two cents of why I originally thought it was a train:

For some members on the train he was either a target, an asset, or a person to stay away from. It was rare for criminals to take the risk of taking ship on a railway barge when the Ecclesiae had members of the cloth on board. But some criminals were more daring; others ignorant.

Inkarnate

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

Just fyi, I've been relegated to using only a phone until my computer is repaired. Don't expect miracles.

ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ: _ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

Alina was...shocked?

Stunned?

Stupefied, maybe?

Something like that.

She wasn't exactly sure why; after all, it was part and parcel of this hellhole to have people who could control their own blood. Why not someone who could do anything else? Logically (at least as far as logic went here), it all made sense.

Logic still had a tendency to fail when someone conjures an explosion massive enough to send metal elevator doors flying, yet somehow barely moves. Something about blatant disregard for the known laws of physics shorted out her mind somewhat. Luckily for her, it came online quickly enough for her to realize something:

Shit, I'm still bleeding. The slash on her shoulder, though short, still bled profusely. Though she would recollect the blood eventually, there wasn't time for "eventually." They had to move. Now, now, and now. As more blood spilled out, she expanded and hardened it with her mind, filling the slash with a line of solid blood. The bleeding was lessened, only occasionally seeping out around the blockage. More importantly, though, the pain was tremendous. Having a solid object jammed into the wound forced a gasp from her, and nearly broke her focus enough for it to simply revert to blood. She held on, though, to that tenuous concentration, at least enough to grit her teeth and spit to anybody in the elevator behind her, "Guess this is our stop. Come on, get out." She stood, swaying slightly, and walked out, nudging the man on the floor with her foot. "I'm with you," she bit out as blood poured down her shoulder, "I want nothing more than to lie down right now. But we gotta get going. Up you come."

Favoring her uninjured arm, she reached down, grabbing his hand and hauling him upright. There was still some strain on her shoulder, though, and another bolt of pain and and spurt of blood ran down her arm, the blood dripping off at the fingertips. She screwed her eyes together for a second, cursing flagrantly under her breath. Then she opened them, and cursed flagrantly--this time not under her breath. The cameras in the hallway were rapidly readjusting themselves, steadily moving towards her and the man. "Come on!" she shouted to whoever happened to be nearby, whether in the elevator or outside, not caring at this point whether or not she was heard, since they were pretty much S.O.L. already. "We need to move!"

Then came something she didn't expect, from off in a side hallway. It was close by, too, enough to set her ears ringing. A gunshot. One crisp, clear shot. Her legs blazed back into motion and she darted down the hallways towards the sound. After all, where there were guns, there were probably some of the escapees that hadn't followed her. Safety in numbers, after all.

She skidded to a halt as she saw something she didn't expect. Pink-haired girl from before—Ava, Ada, something like that, she hadn't had enough time to fully commit everything to memory—was standing next to the boy that had slammed guards to the walls. She remembered his name; not every day you hear the name Fuyuki in America. There was a blood pouring out of a bullet wound in his hand, but...he was holding the gun. She stood stock-still for a moment as she stared at the bizarre tableau. Dimly, she realized that the girl she first busted out of the cell, the one that had asked about the plan, was standing nearby, clearly appreciating the sheer oddness of the situation just as she was.

"Whuh?"

ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ: _ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

Yo, I'm back. Sorry 'bout that.

ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ: _ɢᴇɴᴇsɪs

As a heads-up, I won't be around for a few days. Until I get back, the co-GM is in charge.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

@Jay Kalton I think you might have my favorite signature on this site.