I'll be working on a post shortly! Loved the demonic destruction and general - 'oh snap' feel of that post. I enjoyed the imagery of demonic beast spewing from the cloud's maw...
You know I've never actually done a colab post before =p
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I suppose that you should indeed if you would be happy with such a thing! It seems we may not be having any new recruits – or at least not at the moment. (Though if you prefer to reveil the character IC that is more than good too!)
Would you two be happy beginning at this stage with just the three of us?
(Also the format of your questioning there reminded me of HK from Starwars Knights of the Old Republic… If you happened to have played – most entertaining!)
Would you two be happy beginning at this stage with just the three of us?
(Also the format of your questioning there reminded me of HK from Starwars Knights of the Old Republic… If you happened to have played – most entertaining!)
I do appear on Steam quite a bit, usually in my evenings – though last night I was playing GTA 5 online with a buddy (pretty addicted to that again atm). I did see you on this morning, but I was in a rush to head off to work so had no time to say hello – though will do when I next see you on.
Heh – I assumed then that things IC will be… heating up? Bwahahaa….
I always hate running out of time to RP, especially if I’ve loaded up on various RPs and it means you have to drop most things! Is most unfortunate, but c’est la vie!
Heh – I assumed then that things IC will be… heating up? Bwahahaa….
I always hate running out of time to RP, especially if I’ve loaded up on various RPs and it means you have to drop most things! Is most unfortunate, but c’est la vie!
Heh – I will get working on a post sometime vaguely in the following day or so.
Shame to have Roman drop out, I did enjoy his character and posts! But alas what else to do in such situations.
Shame to have Roman drop out, I did enjoy his character and posts! But alas what else to do in such situations.
Bump
Nice post! I’m looking forwards to interacting more with each of the characters throughout the RP – quite the colourful cast!
Will get working on one as soon as there is a post from Noxious!
Will get working on one as soon as there is a post from Noxious!
I was basically leaning towards him having a natural affinity, but very little experience at this stage. He has only studied the arts and dabbled very very lightly. The death spell he tried at the castle was basically his first attempted real spell, and as such as ‘awakened’ him to the flow of magic despite its general failure.
At this stage he can only perform small and less destructive/deadly magics. Though with the affinity thing I was going for the can master something in relatively little time with enough determination and repetition (Such as the water purifying thingy). I was gonna have it as a slow progression type thing – moving on from simple things to basic ‘destruction’ magic and then eventually more complex things.
Well I am more than happy to colab today – I’m at work right now and will be finished and home in about 5-6 hours from this post. (Though any time before them and I will still be able to contribute, I generally do most of my writing at work – I just can’t guarantee I won’t get distracted for however long).
At this stage he can only perform small and less destructive/deadly magics. Though with the affinity thing I was going for the can master something in relatively little time with enough determination and repetition (Such as the water purifying thingy). I was gonna have it as a slow progression type thing – moving on from simple things to basic ‘destruction’ magic and then eventually more complex things.
Well I am more than happy to colab today – I’m at work right now and will be finished and home in about 5-6 hours from this post. (Though any time before them and I will still be able to contribute, I generally do most of my writing at work – I just can’t guarantee I won’t get distracted for however long).
Hey Hey! Yeah not so bad I suppose – though nothing interesting I’m afraid!
How about yourself?
How about yourself?
Angir had passed in and out of consciousness several times throughout the journey through Providence, the small crowds that gathered to watch barely even registering to him in his current state. Before he knew what was happening he had been dragged from the wagon and taken a short distance down some rough stone stairs and into a foul smelling and dark series of rooms. After only a few moments it was clear to him that this was the infamous dungeon under the Capital building, allegedly near on impossible to escape from and filled with the most skill guards and torturers from the entire kingdom. He was unceremoniously thrown into a cell, the men who had dragged him chuckling as they did – seeing that the cell was partially flooded and filthy water covered the majority of the floor.
He lay face down in the murky pool, his face tilted to the side so he was just able to breathe – unable to move any further as he felt truly exhausted. Already regretting the decision he took a gulp of the filthy water and almost immediately began to cough and splutter before a few moments later resisting the urge to vomit as his stomach cramped painfully. Deciding against repeating his desperate act Angir simply pulled himself up across the floor and away from the wetness, against the edge of the cell which was marginally dry, once there he closed his eyes and again within a few moments he drifted into an uneasy and dream-filled sleep. He once again dreamt of the great sandy room and the strange seal, once more the focus being on whatever the fifth symbol was and its obscured surface. Jumping awake again a single word resonated in his head, the word ‘Animus’. Upon awakening he instinctively shouted the word in his mind, determined to not simply forget it upon awakening as he always did, but a moment later his attention was drawn by the pair of hooded men who had approached his cage, the taller of the two pulling out a ring of keys and unlocking the door. He sat up quickly, his body screaming pain in protest to the swift movement. They both made their way into the cell quickly and without words, each of them seizing an arm and lifting him up and out of the cell. This time he didn’t cry out or resist, simply letting them drag him through the grungy hallways too weak to resist. As they did he noticed several other prisoners in the cells, some of them in a much worse condition than he was and for a brief moment he wondered if he should be thankful that he wasn’t in a much worse way.
As if the gods were mocking him and showing him the irony of his thoughts the two men rounded the next corner and Angir was confronted by the sight of what he quickly realised was a torture chamber of sorts, a heavy stone slab with several heavy leather straps attached to it awaiting him, a smoking brazier holding hot coals just beside it. At that moment he began weakly to struggle, but he had recovered little of his strength since the entire ordeal began for it to have much of an effect. The men’s grips were far too tight and he tried to resist in vain as they strapped him face first to the slab, the stains and smells of blood greeting him as they did. The next ten or so minutes felt like almost an eternity to him as the pair proceeded to taunt him mercilessly about disfigurement and all manner of hideous topics, before they finally proceeded to brand him with what he knew was fondly called the ‘mark of death’ on his left shoulder. His screams echoed throughout the dungeon, the immense searing pain almost overpowering him and making him wish for death and the smell of his own burning flesh caused him to feel the need to vomit. The pain grew so intense that he once more slipped away from the world of consciousness, only feeling the pain and exhaustion through his confused and addled mind.
As Angir once more came to in the small cell he quickly wished that he hadn’t, the numerous aches and pains only being amplified in the squalid conditions and the new raw pain from his back making things almost unbearable, though it did now feel like the very first bruises and cuts were slowly starting to heal and the mental exhaustion caused by his magical exertion was passing. Suddenly he realised that he may be able to use what little magic he knew to help him survive and maybe even escape from this place. It was a faint hope, but he knew even though he had been marked for death he would have to try something. He wracked his mind for each and every fact that he had read and learnt, as well as focusing on exactly what he had felt in the castle when he had used magic to try and kill the Kings-guard. He had no reference to mark the passage of time and so had no idea about how long he was in the cell thinking and planning. He started small, using a simple spell to repeatedly drain only water from the floor of his cell and draw the moisture into himself little by little without any of the ‘impurities’ that were present in it. It was awkward and somewhat fiddlier than he would have imagined, the concentration he needed for even such a small spell demanding all of his attention and effort for long periods.
As difficult as it was, Angir continued as with each small burst of clean moisture that he received he felt that little bit more refreshed and like he had accomplished something against all odds. What felt to him like hours and hours later he finished and a small grin cracked on his face despite everything that had happened. He now felt for the first time in days that he wasn’t dehydrated in the least, the small act of defiance giving him a glint of hope in his dire situation and a burning passion to survive. He sat in the dry patch of the cell, leaning against the rough stone walls and wracked his brain as to what should come next. Ideally he wanted to heal himself, but he knew nothing of weaving healing spells or anything of the like – and to experiment randomly on himself would be nothing short of dangerous. Instead he decided to devote his time to regaining his strength through more natural means, through resting his body and mind as best as he could in whatever time that he may have before he was next moved. He also repeated in his mind each and everything he remembered from his studies about magic and the offensive spells that he was sure he would need.
He continued to satisfy his thirst in his new method when he needed, making sure that no guards or jailers noticed what he was doing whenever they walked past and tried to sleep as much as he could in the times in between. It wasn’t a very satisfying existence, but the fact he was keeping himself from dying of thirst without drinking the filthy water and plotting to escape if possible gave him hope – that and the thought that if he did get out he would kill each and every of these cruel bastards without a second thought, be it with his mind or whatever sharp implement he managed to get his hands on. With that in mind, he turned his thoughts towards a new little ‘project’ for himself and started to gaze around the cell and surrounding area looking for anything that could be used or fashioned into a weapon.
He lay face down in the murky pool, his face tilted to the side so he was just able to breathe – unable to move any further as he felt truly exhausted. Already regretting the decision he took a gulp of the filthy water and almost immediately began to cough and splutter before a few moments later resisting the urge to vomit as his stomach cramped painfully. Deciding against repeating his desperate act Angir simply pulled himself up across the floor and away from the wetness, against the edge of the cell which was marginally dry, once there he closed his eyes and again within a few moments he drifted into an uneasy and dream-filled sleep. He once again dreamt of the great sandy room and the strange seal, once more the focus being on whatever the fifth symbol was and its obscured surface. Jumping awake again a single word resonated in his head, the word ‘Animus’. Upon awakening he instinctively shouted the word in his mind, determined to not simply forget it upon awakening as he always did, but a moment later his attention was drawn by the pair of hooded men who had approached his cage, the taller of the two pulling out a ring of keys and unlocking the door. He sat up quickly, his body screaming pain in protest to the swift movement. They both made their way into the cell quickly and without words, each of them seizing an arm and lifting him up and out of the cell. This time he didn’t cry out or resist, simply letting them drag him through the grungy hallways too weak to resist. As they did he noticed several other prisoners in the cells, some of them in a much worse condition than he was and for a brief moment he wondered if he should be thankful that he wasn’t in a much worse way.
As if the gods were mocking him and showing him the irony of his thoughts the two men rounded the next corner and Angir was confronted by the sight of what he quickly realised was a torture chamber of sorts, a heavy stone slab with several heavy leather straps attached to it awaiting him, a smoking brazier holding hot coals just beside it. At that moment he began weakly to struggle, but he had recovered little of his strength since the entire ordeal began for it to have much of an effect. The men’s grips were far too tight and he tried to resist in vain as they strapped him face first to the slab, the stains and smells of blood greeting him as they did. The next ten or so minutes felt like almost an eternity to him as the pair proceeded to taunt him mercilessly about disfigurement and all manner of hideous topics, before they finally proceeded to brand him with what he knew was fondly called the ‘mark of death’ on his left shoulder. His screams echoed throughout the dungeon, the immense searing pain almost overpowering him and making him wish for death and the smell of his own burning flesh caused him to feel the need to vomit. The pain grew so intense that he once more slipped away from the world of consciousness, only feeling the pain and exhaustion through his confused and addled mind.
As Angir once more came to in the small cell he quickly wished that he hadn’t, the numerous aches and pains only being amplified in the squalid conditions and the new raw pain from his back making things almost unbearable, though it did now feel like the very first bruises and cuts were slowly starting to heal and the mental exhaustion caused by his magical exertion was passing. Suddenly he realised that he may be able to use what little magic he knew to help him survive and maybe even escape from this place. It was a faint hope, but he knew even though he had been marked for death he would have to try something. He wracked his mind for each and every fact that he had read and learnt, as well as focusing on exactly what he had felt in the castle when he had used magic to try and kill the Kings-guard. He had no reference to mark the passage of time and so had no idea about how long he was in the cell thinking and planning. He started small, using a simple spell to repeatedly drain only water from the floor of his cell and draw the moisture into himself little by little without any of the ‘impurities’ that were present in it. It was awkward and somewhat fiddlier than he would have imagined, the concentration he needed for even such a small spell demanding all of his attention and effort for long periods.
As difficult as it was, Angir continued as with each small burst of clean moisture that he received he felt that little bit more refreshed and like he had accomplished something against all odds. What felt to him like hours and hours later he finished and a small grin cracked on his face despite everything that had happened. He now felt for the first time in days that he wasn’t dehydrated in the least, the small act of defiance giving him a glint of hope in his dire situation and a burning passion to survive. He sat in the dry patch of the cell, leaning against the rough stone walls and wracked his brain as to what should come next. Ideally he wanted to heal himself, but he knew nothing of weaving healing spells or anything of the like – and to experiment randomly on himself would be nothing short of dangerous. Instead he decided to devote his time to regaining his strength through more natural means, through resting his body and mind as best as he could in whatever time that he may have before he was next moved. He also repeated in his mind each and everything he remembered from his studies about magic and the offensive spells that he was sure he would need.
He continued to satisfy his thirst in his new method when he needed, making sure that no guards or jailers noticed what he was doing whenever they walked past and tried to sleep as much as he could in the times in between. It wasn’t a very satisfying existence, but the fact he was keeping himself from dying of thirst without drinking the filthy water and plotting to escape if possible gave him hope – that and the thought that if he did get out he would kill each and every of these cruel bastards without a second thought, be it with his mind or whatever sharp implement he managed to get his hands on. With that in mind, he turned his thoughts towards a new little ‘project’ for himself and started to gaze around the cell and surrounding area looking for anything that could be used or fashioned into a weapon.
Hailfire said
Ok. Was gunna post this IC but I am ridiculously tired and shall be asleep soon. Buses are heavily dependent on computers to co-ordinate their various systems, the data from which will have been wiped by The Blackout. What this means is that even if the lighting, the pneumatic suspension and the power steering systems are operational they will not activate. The vehicle would be drivable but only just (this would be true of lots of vehicles unfortunately). Due to our criminal/army friends visiting overnight it also be low on fuel, not that you need much for your current mission and a resourceful team should be able to find more. If you wanted to make use of the vehicle long term as a sort of base of operations your team should have the skills to fix it up and even upgrade it if they're willing to put in a little time. I would defo recommend upgrading it if that is the plan however as a bus isn't exactly low profile and those things are flimsy as hell, not to mention there'd be something of an excess of chairs...
Alright – well I will make the condition of the bus much clearer in my next post. If the next person to post wanted to do something about checking the fuel tanks and realising there is basically no fuel?
I figure the bus is a temporary – get out of the city easily and towards the objective. When we stop and recon the place from there we could look for another temp setup? Some nearby abandoned petrol station or something of the like? Maybe with a garage attached...?
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