Lemons

Kōkyo | Anime Survival Horror RP [Interest Check]

I, on the other hand, love the shit out of the classic zamboni no matter where. I'm into this tbh.

Gamblers of Vox Fortuna

Good lord, I love Mox so much
She senses the psychopathy

Iquenos: In Nomine Domini

Etoile

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As Pythia turned away, Etoile sagged back against the tree trunk in adrenaline-debt exhaustion. Her eyes slid shut, almost of their own volition, and a powerful vertigo overtook her. Only the rough back biting into her back grounded her, reminded her that she was still upright, that she was still there. She allowed herself a smile, then: a small, mirthless, bitter smile.

An injured wolf, hmm?

How apropos that was. A wolf—one that, once upon a time, was a fearsome force of nature—so wounded it could no longer hunt. Could no longer fend for itself. Abandoned by the pack to wither away to nothing. It had no illusions of recovery, no impossible dreams of hunting again. It knew that, without hunting, it was useless. It knew it was doomed the moment it had failed in its task. And yet still, it snapped slavering jaws at anything that came near it; a vain, broken guise to hide its desperation from the world.

An Inquisitor—one that, once upon a time, was a fearsome force of nature—on the run from her former comrades, all support stripped away. All of that power, gone. All of that privilege, gone. Smoke on the wind, blown away with a single gust. Forced now to make a life for herself on the road, never comfortable, never safe, never stopping long enough to do more than eat and sleep for a night. Acting like she could still wield something of her old power. Anything to do away with the fear that hung over her head like the sword of Judas.

And a woman—one that, once upon a time, was a fearsome force of nature—with no idea what to do anymore. Her life's work was gone. Her ideals were torn to shreds. They hung in tatters behind her as she struggled to make sense of what was happening all around her. She wanted her cool, quiet room back. Everything was happening far too quickly for her. Too much was going on. The strange sense of familiarity she'd felt behind Pythia on the barge. The mismatch of Lazulin's words and actions. Clara's cold, cautious glare after shoving her away. The slow, creeping unease that she felt every time Zestasia or Pagonia spoke of their home. The maleficarum that they'd fought. Anníbas on the barge. It was all far too much. Was it too much to ask to be allowed to stop and think?

She opened her eyes, staring up at the faint sunlight filtering through the massive Ifrise trees. Then, a moment later, she looked at Zestasia. Poor kid. He didn't deserve any of what had happened to him.

"...Zestasia." Her voice carried none of its usual harshness. It was distant; quiet, soft, and sad.

"I'm...sorry for what happened to you."

In Search of Gaea A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure (REBUILD)

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The Sharkfin, Top Deck | South Seas Ocean

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Slowly straightening from where she'd braced, Tella let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

She'd never seen anything like that before. Sure, she'd had lessons in storm sailing. Of course she had. But the storms in the Imperial Sea were tame squalls compared to the utter madness they'd just flown through. Hands shaking on the railing, she leaned over the gunwale, squinting at the storm that screamed behind them as her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden bright sunlight. The thunder, though no longer deafening enough to crack the skies, was certainly still loud, and she could see the muted flash of lightning within the clouds every other second. Yet now the water was calm and placid as she'd ever seen it. Little waves rocked the boat gently as all the speed went out of it. She turned her head to follow the line of the storm. It really did ring the rock, didn't it? She sucked in a breath as she realized that, with no break, they were going to need to punch through it again to get out.

With a slow shake of the head and a resolution to not cross that bridge 'til it came to it, she left off her storm watch. Running her hands through her hair to try and get some of the rainwater out of it, she cracked her neck, then hurried to do as Captain Gale ordered. As she reached the stairs to the lower decks, she paused a moment with her hand on the door jamb and took a long, slow breath to calm her still-racing heart. Then she plunged down into the dark.

Still instinctually afraid of an officer berating her for moving too slowly, she nearly ran through the lower decks, only slowing when she arrived where their belongings were stored. With a careful hand, she unhooked her earring, placing it delicately beside her saber. Snatching up her rebreather, she gave it a few puffs to make sure it was clear before she hung it around her neck in prep. Her knife went on her belt next, slid around to the back. Never knew when you'd need to pry something open, cut an entangling rope or weed, or stab something that was giving you trouble. Giving everything one last once-over, she removed her low boots, shoving them in with the rest of her things and slipping on a pair of lightweight shoes much more suited to swimming. Wouldn't do to cut her feet down there, after all.

Then, with a sigh, she propped herself against the wall. Leaning her head back, she stared at the ceiling. It still didn't feel right. It still didn't feel natural for her to be here. She still didn't belong. She stuck out, and she knew it. She'd been working for divers—as a diver, she reminded herself—for two years. Mostly in Makrus as an acolyte, but two years nonetheless. But it still wasn't enough. Two years wasn't enough to clean the Imperial stink off. And perhaps no amount of time ever would be. In the brief quiet before the rest of the crew arrived to reclaim their things, punctuated only by the creaking of the wood and the gentle hum of the aether engine, she closed her eyes and muttered to herself: "What the hell is wrong with me?"

In Search of Gaea A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure (REBUILD)

Tella, The Repentant

“I don't know where I'm going, but it's not back.”

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Tella Lecta Lumia

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24

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Female

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The Imperial Sea

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Sun (Fire)

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Tella's skill in using aether is fairly weak compared to many others her age, and certainly worse than most others who trained for six years in the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets, then four years in the Imperial Naval Academy. She was never very good at using it, so she mostly ignored it, dismissing it as a weakness that could be compensated for by her other strengths. Though she's been working to remedy this in recent times, she's still fairly unskilled. Competent enough to not be called a novice by any stretch, but certainly not enough to be called skillful.

What command she does have is almost strictly offensive in nature, though it does carry a few additional benefits. Her principle usage of it is to enhance her expertise in swordplay, though there are a handful of other uses she's found and basic pyrokinetic powers such as lighting campfires or burning ropes.

• Blade-Conjuring - Far and away her most advanced technique and the only one that could be classed as skillful, Tella practices this regularly in order to maintain some level of consistency in it. With a flick of the wrist, she conjures a short blade made of solidified flames into her offhand, switching fluidly from a one-handed duelist's stance to one more fitting of a sword and long dagger. She can also throw the blade, which to her is functionally weightless; it maintains its form until she ceases concentrating on it, at which point it disappears in a flash of light.
• Sword-Wreathing - Much simpler than her Blade-Conjuring is the basic ability to surround her sword with an aura of fire. While not much more powerful on a base level, it allows her to also project the fire a little ways away with a strike, extending her reach and causing painful, if superficial, burns. It also has a not-insignificant effect on the thought processes of an opponent; a sword spontaneously lighting on fire is certainly cause for some consternation.
• Flame-Casting - The most basic of the combat techniques at Tella's disposal, this is exactly what it sounds like. She can project motes of flame, or a fast, narrow stream. As her skill is lacking, she can't keep it up for very long, and the flames are fairly weak. But, as with Sword-Wreathing, it is excellent for superficial burns and distraction.

In addition, she has the peculiar talent to manipulate her own body temperature. While it's not exceptionally useful much of the time, it has its niche on the open seas, and it's most definitely saved her life on at least one occasion.

---

Tella has much to think about right now, and it's not hard to tell. Though for much of her life she carried an intense conviction with her, manifesting in an easy, almost arrogant confidence, this has been shaken if not completely shattered of late, resulting in an existential dread and a terrible lack of purpose. The burden of expectation from her instructors that once weighed heavily upon her has been replaced with an expectation that she burdens herself with, and heavily. Owing largely to that expectation, but also due to the haughtiness that once dominated her, she was never the most smiley of women. Now, she doesn't talk much, other than to give cursory responses, though she's very polite when she does.

All of that is fairly surface-level: the look on her face, the set of her shoulders, her silence, and the troubled air around her. But any more than a cursory examination will additionally reveal a strangling undertow of confusion that runs just under the surface, pulling her along with it. She is hesitant to make quick decisions much of the time, expressing a great deal of doubt in her ability to choose the right path unless she has a great deal of time to think it out and weigh her options.

But further beneath it all—beneath the pressing self-doubt, beneath the weight of the shattered shards of her confidence, beneath the confusion of what she should do and where she should go now, beneath the distracted hush, beneath the expectations that she burdens herself with—she is still the same Tella that once sparred with naval officers and soldiers, pushed herself to the point of breaking and beyond, and pulled through the Naval Academy with flying colors. And in moments of extreme stress, the questions that she spends so much time thinking about silence themselves and she is fully in the moment, making snap decisions like she was born to, pushing herself past any expectations that she puts on herself, and showing the steel-hard resolve that still forms the very core of who she is.

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From the very beginning, Tella's life was one of privilege. The only child of the wandering trader Sohge Lumia and Lecta Tilme, only scion of a vast mercantile empire in Galma, she was incredibly spoilt and rarely ever heard the word 'no.' From a very young age, it was taken for granted that she would eventually take over her mother's family business and carry on the Tilme legacy of merchants. But as she aged, she began to feel...uncomfortable. Constrained. Shackled. Though she had everything she asked for, there was something missing. And only when she was out with Sohge and caught sight of an Imperial Navy vessel disembarking did she realize what it was.

Her parents were aghast when she told them at a very young age that she planned to enter the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets and forbade it immediately. But she would not be dissuaded. She insisted. Day in and day out. And her parents, spoiling her even then, eventually caved. They would pay her way through the Academy for Future Cadets. They would even finance her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, if it came to that. As long as she was ready to do that for life.

As a child, she didn't recognize the veiled threat behind it. And as she aged and went through her six years of education in the IFAFC, especially later on, as she developed more physically, she began to feel a fierce pride that she would one day be part of so noble a cause. The entitlement of a child of massive wealth turned to the confidence of someone who felt that she had truly found her place in the world.

When she left the Academy for Future Cadets, though, her parents made good on their veiled threat, delivering unto the now nominally adult Tella an ultimatum. They would pay her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, as they'd promised. They had so much money now they had little else to do with it. But if afterwards, she committed to the Navy—if she chose that path over their own mercantile empire—then she was a Lumia no longer. A keen sense of betrayal and anger poured through her, and she narrowed her eyes at them. They treated her like the twelve year old that had entered the prospective cadet's Academy still. And then turned, and marched to her new Academy.

After four years, she graduated, and entered the Navy proper. By this point, she was a hardline Imperial zealot. The rest of the world was ignorant, and they needed to be civilized and enlightened by the Empire. They would thank them eventually. And Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best, and a threat to life at worst, if they woke up something deep down that shouldn't be woken. People that shouldn't be allowed to live. Expansionist. Arrogant. And skillful enough in martial combat to back up any threat she made. So did her parents, cutting her off permanently from the family fortune. But she cared little, twenty-two years old and flush with pride as she sailed on her first mission as a true member of the Navy, to the Frozen Sea.

It was to be her last as well.

In the depths of the Sea, their ship was suddenly smashed to bits as the Frozen Sea Leviathan assaulted this intruder to its domain. Thrown into the icy waters—without her armor on, luckily—only Tella's strange ability to increase her body temperature saved her from an agonizing death immediately. And she would have died regardlesss, if the Diver vessel the Dragon's Tooth hadn't pulled her nigh-unconscious body out of the water and taken her to Windkeep to nurse her back to health. Tella's mind, already shaken by the loss of not only the ship, but the entire crew, was deeply confused. Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best and a threat to life at worst. Yet here she was, still alive. And all thanks to Divers. And the strict orthodoxy of the Empire—its rules, its strictures, its edicts and expansions—suddenly seemed to fit too tightly.

Desperate to repay the captain, she offered her unconditional services to him. To repay him not only for saving her life, but for all that the Imperials had said about Divers. She served him as a crewmember for three months, and found herself, against all odds, finding a dim enjoyment in life as a Diver, and the freedom it offered. But little enough, still broken as she was. Working in the great Diver's Guild city of Makrus for many months, she was eventually allowed to set off with a crew. She still felt the cloying guilt, still felt the need to give recompense to Divers. But more than that, she craved the manual labor that came with it. The repetitive tasks cut her mind free to think. She had a lot to think about. And she would have plenty of time to think about it on the Sharkfin.

---

• A standard-issue Imperial saber that rarely leaves her side. Almost unused in the fashion that the Imperials intended for it to be used, but occasionally used in her time as a pseudo-Diver to fend off roving pirates or overcurious creatures.
• A knife kept behind her belt as a basic tool, and a weapon of last resort. She typically doesn't use it in her offhand, preferring Blade-Conjuring for that purpose. Very useful as a utility knife when underwater.
• An expensive sapphire earring given to her by her parents for her tenth birthday. As much as she could sell it for, it's the one remnant of her childhood that she can't bear to part with.
• A simple rebreather. Secondhand and obviously repaired multiple times, but serviceable nonetheless. She purchased it with her rapidly dwindling money in Makrus. Essentially required to work as a Diver.

Nearly everything else she had on her, all the expensive trappings that she'd retained and gleaming Imperial affects, she either lost in the catastrophic crash, gave in gratitude and regret to the captain of the Dragon's Tooth, or pawned off in Makrus to afford a slightly nicer living situation.

Gamblers of Vox Fortuna

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Medical Bay, Fortuna | In Transit
February 21st, 3061

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Andrea couldn't concentrate for the life of her. She was generally pretty good at working on an empty stomach, but she'd messed up, mixing up two of the syringes and needing to chuck that whole batch. She hadn't powdered the pills she was mixing well enough, so the suspension was chunky and imperfect. She never messed up that badly, and she was unhappy with herself. Quite a bit of her pay from the past couple months had gone into these chemicals; a screw-up like that was a glaring sign for her to stop. Sighing, she packed her drugs back up, calling behind her: "Hey, Jake. I'm going to go eat, I'll come up and finish up Maya's bloodwork later."

Jake didn't respond, other than an ill-tempered grunt. He didn't like her very much. She had a reputation, she supposed. Didn't trust her to do bloodwork without doing something medically questionable. Please. She could do basic bloodwork in her sleep. She had better things to worry about than the ignorant opinions of dullards and quacks. Having not eaten yet, she was beginning to feel the hollow in her stomach, and that was far more important than what other people had to say. Walking quickly—but then, she always walked quickly—she took the lift down to the level of the mess. Navigating the halls with a confident, snapping stride, she emerged into the busy room. There were others in the room, certainly, many staff members and her fellow pilot Mox, but her eyes lasered onto William. She kept one eye on him as she took a few food cubes from the dispenser. She'd eaten so many of the things as basic rations that the blandness and the awful texture skated underneath her notice.

So, tossing one in her mouth and started the arduous process of chewing it, she walked over the table he was sitting on and sat down across from him. A moment passed as she swallowed, and when she spoke her voice was just a little bit too saccharine. "William, sweetie, can I ask you for a favor? I'd like some help in the medical bay later, maybe tomorrow?" She smiled a small, expectant smile. "I'd like to run a few clinical trials. Don't worry, I'll make sure it's perfectly safe beforehand. You don't need to worry about anything when I'm here."

Another cube shoved down her throat, and she realized belatedly that she should probably say something to Mox. After all, the kid had greeted her this morning in the hallway, and she'd completely ignored her. Interaction would be only polite. She inclined her head at younger woman, voice changing gears on a dime to a dry deadpan as she held a third nutrient cube between her finger. She honestly didn't know whether or not she was full yet. She never could tell with the cubes. "Good morning, Ms. Holiday. Enjoying the luxury?"

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

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As Kazuki took the first still somewhat unsteady steps back towards the tavern, Alja overtook him with a few long strides, cutting off his path. She didn't know in exact detail what had been eating him the past few days—she hadn't been there—but from his reaction to Graves' furious words after the ill-fated raid, she could guess. She'd been down in the rat dungeon for long enough that she'd hoped it had scabbed over. Stupid, you should've known that was BS. She'd just been in denial. She'd been upset. She was scared, and so she'd lashed out, been selfish, ignored it. Of course it hadn't scabbed. It had stayed open beneath the surface and gone rancid. And the longer a wound like this festered—the longer the guilt crawled through him—the worse it would become. A flash of recognition as cold and quick as a knife passed through her, and she laid a hand on his thin shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. When she spoke, her voice—like her grip—was gentle but firm. "Kazuki, you need to stop."

She heard something echo in the back of her mind, a half-remembered woman's voice that spoke along with hers, as she grabbed his second shoulder as well. "If you keep on like this, you are going to destroy yourself." Even as she said it, she already knew it wouldn't do a damn thing. She knew full well how futile it was to just...tell someone to stop feeling that crushing weight. It would be easier to dam the ocean.

So instead, keeping her grip, she shoved him out to arm's length, voice still calm and level. "I'm not Seele, so I can't treat you like she would." And all the words in the whole bloody world couldn't do a thing for you right now. "But I also can't stand by and watch your tear yourself apart over what happened, because nothing down there was your fault. So here's what we're gonna do." She let go of his shoulders, crossing her arms. "We're all four gonna walk into the Mystic Prophecy guildhall together, like you damn well deserve. And if Luci—if anybody blames you for a god damn thing when we're in there, you leave it to me."

She gave him a soft smile. "I'm not gonna let you run away from your problems and hide away from the world. You're stronger than that. You're better than that. So c'mon. I'm behind ya all the way."

Gamblers of Vox Fortuna

Maxx did you just Kobayashi Maru your character

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

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Alja was...concerned.

Not so much about the missing wayfarers and denizens—though she was. No, she was more worried about Benkei. As disaffected as he seemed, she couldn't help but worry, as a vivid recollection played through her mind.

I thought for just one second, that maybe we could make this place better. That we could stick together and build a world for ourselves here. But then the moment I turn around everyone’s fighting, and then I start fighting too. It’s hopeless if this is how it’s going to be.

Words that Benkei had spoken to her as she sat behind him, his eyes pitched down to the river. The sheer, utter hopelessness in his voice. That had happened after she'd yelled at Rael, and after Kazuki had gone after Kalie. Now she'd yelled at all of them, and from the way he'd glared, Kazuki wasn't overfond of Artemis. A sick feeling of dread began to build in her stomach. Things were too similar. And though the circumstances were vastly different, that fact did nothing to assuage her growing anxiety. But Rael could handle it. Rael could keep them safe as Alja discussed with the rest of the party, right? She didn't need to go to Prophecy that badly. She didn't want to blunder into whatever was happening out there, make it worse. So as they left, she remained silent. Her head began to pound.

Not long afterwards, she shook her head distractedly. She was too worried. She couldn't focus. She was nothing but a detriment to this conversation as of now, not paying enough attention. She stood up with a sharp movement, nearly knocking the chair over as she shoved it back all at once. She couldn't quite hide the worry in her voice as she spoke. "I'm gonna go check on them outside, make sure they're alright." Kicking herself, she strode to the door—You should have gone with them at the start, stupid—then threw it open just in time to hear Benkei following Rael, talking about visiting Prophecy. Well, it looked like everyone was okay. Nobody was yelling. Benkei didn't have that same droning, dead voice as he had that day by the river. But still, that powerful urge to keep them safe screamed through her, so she stepped forwards, throwing a cheeky grin up on her face and trying to avoid showing that terrible, irrational fear.

"Not without me, you're not."

Septima Strikers (Super Powers/Social Turmoil) [High Casual] [Gunvolt]

Hey folks, my discord account got disabled because of someone who had beef with me in a different server. Is there a chance someone could PM me the invite link again?

@Zeroth

That sounds like a whole-ass story