Lemons

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

I am in precisely the same boat; school starting, business. Hopefully I'll settle in to a proper rhythm soon and get back to posting.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

@Inkarnate OH SHIT THE ROAST

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

oof.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

Lemons back, yo.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

Etoile

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Without a reply—barring the full-body tensing that Etoile had become so familiar with in her own life—the taller woman took off after the stupid blonde jackass. For once, Etoile could agree with someone; she had no idea what the kid was doing, going off on his own like that in a forest with a known murderer who was capable of controlling the wildlife. She was tempted to ask what he was thinking, but then realized: In all likelihood, he isn't thinking at all..

She wasn't quite as fast as she might've been with an uninjured leg and functional arm, but she could keep up passably, at least. It took her some time to catch up, and by the time she reached the other woman, a small grouping had formed, composed of the woman, the kid, the redhead—Arghh, who IS that?—and other man who she hadn't seen before. As she watched and listened to what she assumed the ending part of his speech, she felt a chill run down her spine. She hadn't seen a malum in quite a while, and she always forgot how uncomfortable they made her.

Despite that, as soon as she approached them proper, she felt a weight in her chest that she hadn't realized was there disappear, and more importantly, a sudden jolt of pain as the magitech arm reconnected with her nerves, regaining functionality. She sighed out a heavy breath of relief as she joined the group. From what she could gather, they were having a little strategy meeting, going over their capabilities. Another rush of relief, this one internal. Finally, a beat she could really dance to. She might've been out of practice, but she hoped not too much.

That said, she didn't want to advertise her past too much, unlike the blonde. So the first thing she said upon rejoining the group, flexing her arm to make sure it was working properly, was a short little bit-out couple sentences.

"Classically trained ventus, specifically scholaris, with a study focus on force projection, be it precise or general, and object manifestation. Adequate at swordplay, but not surpassing at it."

Then she abruptly shut her mouth, starting to think about their composition. Crystal-based terra, sun-based ignis, sword-based fulgur. I don't know enough about the malum to guess his specialization. Sword-based fulgur isn't going to be particularly useful outside of direct combat applications, so we know that. It might be wise to start building a strategy around that. She said the crystal could coat skin and solid objects, but she didn't mention projecting it into projectiles, so it mightn't be too useful for direct offense; perhaps more of a combat support application in general. The crystal would be useful for frontline protection if it can be used to make sufficient amounts of armor, though I don't know the extent of its capabilities. Solaris pallio seems versatile, so he could fulfill multiple combat roles, but as with the terra, I don't know enough about it to adequately gauge him. Also, she thought sourly, I don't know how much I would trust him in a fight.

Her mind continued chugging through the possibilities, and she turned to the terra woman to ask about the limitations on her crystals before suddenly realizing something: If we don't have anything to call each other in combat, things could go very wrong very quickly through lack of communication.

"This is all well and good, but if we're going into combat, we should know what to call each other." She took care not to sound too imperious; she already looked like an Inquisitor, there was no need to act like one as well. She dipped into a traditional Iquenos bow. "Etoile."

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

I'm in a similar boat as tundra; I posted fairly recently, so I want to hold off on posting more.

Also, unrelated, I will be without internet for the entire month of July, so don't expect too much from me.

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

Not at all.

Gloomy Skies and Kids Who Fly

Mal growled faintly at Flick. "To hell with being sneaky, I'm hungry. Too hungry for this shit." And with brief prelude, totally ignoring the principles of intelligence, she dug her fingers into a bag's tense, plasticky skin and ripped the whole thing open.

The smell was heavenly. She thought she might faint as she looked down at piles of food that looked—to her eyes, at least—and smelled perfectly good. Sure, there were some fragments of broken ceramic and glass here, a bent fork or a blunted knife there, and a mass of unpleasant-smelling black pulp that she would later find out were coffee grounds, but most of it was just...food. Right there, behind that restaurant, she abandoned all pretense of civility or restraint and began shoveling food straight from the bag into her mouth.

Oh my God this is the best thing I have ever put into my mouth. That wasn't really saying much, as other than the past few days of raw food and poorly-cooked rodent, her only sustenance had been the tasteless mush that Chimera had served, but still. Best thing she'd ever eaten in her entire life, and there was SO MUCH OF IT in front of her. She really didn't care about the fact that she looked pretty grotesque. That was rather low on her list, compared to the particularly nice food she was piling into her face. Biscuits and gravy, she would've discovered had she looked at the menu, was her current casualty. Sausages, pancakes, waffles, nothing was safe from her ravenous maw. She tried her best to keep most of the food off of her face, but she still looked like there was a little something (a lot of something) on her lips.

All of that happened over the span of only a few seconds, interestingly enough. And at the end of those few seconds was when the metal door in front of her clicked open and she looked up, startled, only to meet the surprised, then vindictive, face of a man who was holding another of the great big black goodie bags.

"Yo!" he shouted, advancing on the quintet of kids, "the fuck do you think you're doin'?"

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Sorry I haven't posted at all, I think I'll have to drop out of this RP, at least for the moment. IRL has indeed gotten busy. Feel free to use Gaius as you wish. I may come back later, but if not, happy trails.

Gloomy Skies and Kids Who Fly

"You look like a homeless bum, Crash. We all do." Mal's shaky smile turned into something more genuine, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "Then again, you are homeless, and we are bums. So yeah, you look somethin' like normal."

Stretching her arms behind her head and cracking her knuckles, she groaned and popped her formerly-cold joints as she began to warm up. Now that she'd forced herself to calm down, she was thinking straight, and one thought was screaming through her. Well, less of a thought, really, and more an urge, something only solidified by Dizzy's cry from the alleyway and the pain that scrunched through her abdomen. Her eyes bugged out slightly and she grit her teeth together.

Food. Food right now, or else I'm gonna fall over. And she really felt like she was. Flying burned through energy like nothing else, and starting the morning with a flight was a surefire way to really, really want something to get in you, asap. The clenching, hollow pain only intensified, and she cradled her empty stomach tenderly.

And that was when she was graced with—nay, assaulted by—the best thing she had ever smelled. She had no idea what it was, but it immediately made the pain in her stomach worse, and it made her mouth start to run like a fire sprinkler. She had swallow to stop drool from actually leaking from the corner of her lips when she talked. It looked like Flick had nosed it out as well, because he had a look on his face that was quite familiar to Mal: it was pretty much the same one that she was wearing. She homed in on him like a missile, barely restraining herself from breaking into a full-on superhuman sprint in her lust for food.

"Hey Flick, Flick, Flick," she spouted, her burgeoning hunger making it very difficult for her to exercise any level of self-control on her mouth, "all the scientists' names—they were different from our names, the ones we gave ourselves. The people in this city will have names like the scientists, right? Will we have to use fake names?" And immediately afterwards, face contorting into an aggressive frown, "I don't care what happens, I'm not using a fake name. I spent too long getting this one instead of 34C-490B."