MarshiestMallow

Academy: A school for Heroes and Villains (open to all)

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Barca Ashur Xavier and Ce-Jay Wilson

LocationAcademy Grounds
^{Interacting with: Each other, Benjamin Parker (briefly)}

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Walking away, rather proud of himself, Barca didn’t go far. Instead, he settled himself down on the ground, folding himself up smartly and placing Glaber’s cage in front of him. He studied the snowy white owl, letting his thoughts run wild. He considered that conversation, that interaction to be a win. Yet something about it still irked him. It wasn’t just that Naevia’s resolve had been shattered in mere moments, it was… He closed his eyes, and debated with himself for a few moments. For a brief moment, it was like he had an angel and a devil on his shoulder, as he debated whether or not to read Naevia, and Agron’s minds.

He had said he hadn’t read her mind…. It didn’t mean that he’d promised not to read her mind… he wanted to understand, so that if he needed to help, he could. But… had the promise been implied? Barca wasn’t sure. The trouble with being so smart, was that he could see both sides of an argument. But…

He couldn’t resist. He needed to understand… something about her just pulled him in… and he found himself wanting to help. Particularly if it was something that she didn’t want, what was going on. So, he did what he was best at. Reading minds. It was a simple matter to focus on Naevia’s mind, and after a moment, Argon’s. Shifting through their thoughts was even simpler, as he quickly sought the answers he desperately wanted.

Unfortunately, with his mind open the way it was, he could hear others thoughts clearly.

”Not this again.” Pierced his mind quite clearly, along with the image of a hand shaking, a phone stuck to it- The smack, accompanied by the pain of a phone hitting his face, jolted Barca out of his- or rather other’s thoughts. He reached up when he realised the phone was actually stuck to his face. He resisted blinking, not wanting to risk losing his eyelashes, and reached to tear the phone from his face. Something was holding it close to his skin, and he sighed.

A webslinger. Wonderful. The kids thoughts let him know the boy was mortified. Barca sighed once more. He really couldn’t punish the kid for being incompetent, not at a school designed to learn about your powers. He didn’t get the chance to say anything, in any case as the boy flung himself away. Barca doubted that it was intentional.

He once more prepared himself, seeking out Naevia’s mind once more. He was once more assaulted by other’s minds.

"I am free! Running is nice. I never get to run. Where is my ball? I must find my - SQUIRREL!" Ce-Jay stopped mid-run and sat back on his haunches, his little black nose sniffing at the air. The thick, yellow tail began to wag and Ce-Jay was back up again, sniffing. He stopped, let his tongue hang out, and began running again.

Despite his efforts to push away others thoughts, Barca once more found someone’s thoughts overwhelming his concentration. The abnormal thoughts that were expressed with such excitement slammed against Barca’s mind, distracting him from what he was doing. What… what was that? It didn’t seem normal… were they mentally ill?

”So many smells! I never smell so many smells before! I smell cookies! Cookies are great! Master feeds me cookies when I am a good boy! I smell water. I am a thirsty boy. I must find a place to potty."

Barca frowned, once more trying to track the mental voice, now under the impression that whatever it was, it wasn’t human. The humans and Aliens Barca had met tended to have a filter in their thoughts. Base desires were generally unconscious, so he concluded that it must be an animal of some kind, something he hadn’t had much experience with. He scanned the crowd, knowing he could trace the thought, but knowing it could also hurt the animal, and Barca didn’t want that.

Maneuvering the crowd towards the area he could smell water and grass (a great place to go potty!), Ce-Jay bumped himself into Barca’s leg. The blonde canine stopped and looked up at him, tongue lolling out to the side and generally looking rather happy with himself.

”A Human! I have found a human and a human has found me! Hello human. I would like to go potty now. Oh pretty please? May I go potty? I have been a good boy!” Ce-Jay turned himself around, giving Barca his rear to show just how much his tail was wagging, his head looking over his body and back at Barca, as if waiting for something.

As the dog bumped into him, Barca frowned down at it. The dog was more than a little excited, and Barca had absolutely no idea what to do with him. This was why he had Glaber. Much simpler to deal with then an excitable canine.

”uh… you can go potty… “ He said with a little bit of uncertainty, wondering if the dog would even understand him. ”Just not on me, that wouldn’t be being a good boy” Just what had he gotten himself into? The dog seemed well content to hang around, and it seemed like he didn’t even seem concerned that he was having a proper conversation with a human.

”Oh boy! Oh boy!” Ce-Jay began to spin himself around in circles. ”The human has said I can go potty! I shall go now! Thank you, human! You have been most kind! I love you! We are now friends!” Ce-Jay then took off, running full speed through the group of students until he broke free of the crowd to a less dense area towards the lake.

Barca looked after the dog, a little perplexed. He was friends… with a dog? Just how quickly did dogs give you their loyalty? Well, about thirty seconds I guess He thought to himself, shaking his head, he did wonder if the dog actually would ‘go potty’ or would get distracted by something else. And why was he actually thinking that about a dog? He shook his head again.

Just who did the dog belong to?

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

@Norschtalen
Sure, but be aware, I will monitor for godmoding. throw up a CS here in the OOC and wait for approval!

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

@NorschtalenSure! But be mindful, we are actually going to be moving to a new thread when this arc is over- you can jump in but might not get much purchase here! That being said, I'd love to have you aboard!

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇᕮᗷOOT

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Lavena Keelia Ó Faoláin

Location: Flight BAW229; Los Angeles to London.
^{Interacting With:Cyrus Saenz (@YoshiSkittlez)}

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She knew she was a goner. Knew it with every fiber of her being, as she tumbled towards the rift in the plane that was tearing apart by the force of whatever had happened, by the fall and whatever else was going on. Lavena cursed herself for a fool, she should have stayed in her seat- it would have cushioned her impact into the ocean… but then there was the chance she wouldn’t be able to get herself free. She had struggled so hard with just getting out before, without the added pressure of water. Either way, she was a goner and there was no use contemplating that. There was no way she could survive the fall, and even if she did, how injured would she be? How could she survive in the cold? Her mind worked frantically, simply to keep herself from falling into despair and utterly breaking down.

She was going to die, and she’d face it with her head held high.

”Hold on.” Someone’s voice, nearby, pierced the gloom that was steadily settling on her and she blinked, glancing about and seeing the old man she had falling into minutes before. Minutes? It suddenly felt like years. She stared at him in confusion, her mind rapidly trying to make sense of what was going on. ”We’re going to ride this one out.” She blinked again, before her mind registered that he was trying to help her, and she grasped his hand. She knew it was hopeless. Knew that one good bump of turbulence- fuck, it was really just falling now- would jolt her way. Or the pressure would have the seat tearing away from the plane. The plane was going to tear apart, she knew that. That terrible grinding… She gripped tightly to the man and her case. And then her fingers, sweaty with fear began to lose their grip on the man, her hand slowly slipping from his until her fingers lost traction.

She didn’t scream as she fell. She met the man’s gaze, knowing they were going to die. Yet grateful that he had tried to save her. She would die knowing that someone’s last act had been to try and keep her alive. And what more could she ask for? Oh. Right. Maybe to actually live?

And then the scream came as she fell towards the ocean, tearing from her throat to end in a breathless cry as she plunged straight into the ocean, slamming just like she knew she would painfully against the water. She dropped like a stone, still holding her case, now tightly against her, wondering if she was being a fool for doing so. If she was dead, what use was it to her? But she just couldn’t let it go. It was her life. It meant too much to her.

As she seemed to sink forever, Lavena tried to orientate herself, but the pressing closeness of the water, the blackness, the way it enveloped her and seemed to want to drag her down… the way her lungs were burning… Lavena knew that she would probably die. She kicked wildly, hoping that she was going the right way, even as she recognised the hopelessness of the situation.

She was going to die here.

Her eyes stung, whether from the saltwater or her own tears, she didn’t know. She wanted to close her eyes, and to just give up… Fear clutched her, squeezing her heart, and for a moment, she couldn’t tell the difference between then, and the past. A silent scream of fear and rage escaped her. She was not a helpless child. Not anymore.

Bags floated around her, handbags and other such bags spilling their contents, and Lavena tried to ignore the shapes of bodies around her, her lungs burning, she wasn’t sure if her eyes were going black from lack of oxygen, or if it was just water pressing on her. She kicked wildly, and held onto her case with one arm, using the air to try and propel herself up. She crashed into… something that was sharp, she didn’t know what, causing a swallow cut to appear across her brow, blood leaking into the water, the salt stinging it painfully.

She was nearly ready to give up, her body refusing to work properly, and her mouth opened against her will, water filling the space, forcing its way into her throat. She tried coughing, which just made things worse.

Her eyes continued to fade into blackness, even as she kicked feebly.

Her body reacted instinctively as she broke the surface, bringing in great gulps of air that probably made her look like a fish out of water, gasping, and then coughing violently, watery blood falling into her eyes. The coughs racked her, her body shaking with the force violently, until everything in her stomach came up, purging itself into the water, she cried weakly, reaching up to wipe her mouth, tears rolling down her face, a horrible taste in her mouth.

She could hear others crying, calling out to people, but she couldn’t seem to get enough air, enough energy, to call back. It took all her strength to hold her case, and stay afloat.

She was alive. And that was something to cherish. She reached up with her free hand to press it against the wound along her forehead, grimacing, as she looked around, ”H-hello?” she called weakly. She could swear she heard a dog, and there was someone else screaming... Voices?

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇᕮᗷOOT

Theodore

Location:Flight BAW229; Los Angeles to London.

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As the explosion continued to rocket the plane, Theodore kept his grip on Emily, unwilling to let her be ripped away from him as well, his gaze on the spot where Isaura had been, only to be torn away. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and he tore his eyes away, looking to Emily, knowing she was terrified, and unable to do anything about it. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly, looking to give her any comfort he could, as they plummeted towards the ocean.

Some part of Theodore that wasn’t filled with fear, with heartbreak, remained calm. He had heard stories of people surviving plane crashes by staying in their seats, but the looming ocean rising up to greet them told him there would be no surviving if they were buckled in. They’d drown, and the last thing he’d see was Emily gasping for air. He twisted, releasing his death grip on Emily, to reach down, and pull at her seat belt, gripping the clasp tightly, he watched the water continue to grow, the length of the ocean widening, becoming more vast, and closer as they drew nearer and nearer.

”Make your way to the top, Emily” He said in her ear, his voice rough, ”And I’ll come find you” As they met the water, Theodore pressed on Emily’s clasp, releasing her, and shoving her out the seat, towards the ocean, ”Get clear, Emily! Get clear!” He cried, fumbling with his own seatbelt, he didn’t see where she went under, and he closed his eyes, hoping he hadn’t just killed his sister. The tears he hadn’t let fall in front of his sister unable to be denied any longer, and when he opened his eyes again, it made it nearly impossible to see.

As the plane hit the water, the cabin- or what was left of it- began to fill with the biting cold, his fingers, sore from his earlier attempts to try and tear his own seatbelt off, fumbled with the buckle once more. He tried not to panic, tried to keep his breathing even, so as not to make his situation worse, but he couldn’t hold it at bay. What if… What if Isaura was dead? Who would look after Emily? How was she going to survive in this terrifyingly cold ocean? Once, twice, he gripped the clasp weakly, trying to free himself as the water continued to rise. He tried not to focus on other passengers as they struggled to free themselves as well, tried not to focus on how cold, how rapidly numb he was becoming as the water rose, seeking to cover him completely. His fingers struggled even more with the clasp as the water made everything harder.

His last breath was more a gasp, as the water rose above his head. As the cold sapped his energy, the last dregs of warmth leaving his body, Theodore knew that he would die in that seat. He just… He had to believe that both Emily and Isaura were alive… He had to die thinking that. His fingers grasped the clasp once more, his body striving to expel the air in his lungs, and bring in a fresh replacement, he finally freed himself. His body rose out his seat, and he had to turn away from others, still trapped, knowing that he was leaving them to doom, to death by drowning.

His lungs burning, growing ever painful with each passing second, Theodore kicked, trying to go for a powerful push that would take him out the plane. The cold sunk into his bones, to the point where he thought he might never get warm again. Was that how death felt like, the sapping of every last ounce of warmth, the furious need to breath, but being unable to? The pain of being torn apart from the only people you loved in this world? His eyes stung, but he refused to close them.

He kicked again, clearing the wreckage. His lungs were furiously demanding oxygen, and he knew that if he opened his mouth, that would be the end. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake, he needed to reach the surface, before his body overruled him, and sought the much needed air it was telling him he needed. He couldn’t swim down…

But he couldn’t tell which way was up.

Panic filling his brain even more- if that was even possible- Theodore kicked again, before he stopped moving. Some instinctual part of him told him, reminded him, that humans floated. For one horrible moment, he thought he had got that wrong, remembered wrong, or maybe his instincts were just rebelling as his body grew more and more angry at him. And then he slowly rose, and he kicked upwards. The last little bit of air he had in his lungs expelling, to blow a small trail of bubbles into the water, swallowed up by the bubbles his movements created. His lungs furiously demanded that he breath, and he fought that instinct, that natural mechanism.

Just a little bit longer, he told himself, a little bit longer, and then he could breath all he liked. A little bit longer, and he could find Isaura and Emily. Please… don’t let him have killed his little sister…

When his head broke the surface, he almost didn’t believe it, his lung sucking in the blessed, sweet air in several gasping gulps, before he expelled it in one long shout, ”ISAURA, EMILY!” It wasn’t as strong as he would have liked, his abused throat, the shout drawing out into a near whisper, his tears stinging, and he furiously reached up to wipe his eyes, as he desperately looked about, for any sort of familiar silhouette.

”Please… be okay… “

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇᕮᗷOOT

Lavena Ó Faoláin

The red haired woman rested quite comfortably in her seat, despite the fact the plane was full. She was of average height, and curled nicely in her seat, snuggled against the wall, looking out the window. She watched the clouds move by the plane, and let her mind wonder. Hopefully, her flight back would be filled with the joy of having successfully gained a long term job, and a grant. The money would be welcome, but she was more interested in the project… if she could pull it off… she’d change the world. So she was nervous, filled with anticipation and excitement as she went through the presentation in her hand, again and again, fiddling with a small cube more commonly known as a Fidget cube, which she’d had before the craze- honestly, why couldn’t people leave well enough alone when they didn’t need the things? She absolutely refused to get a Fidget Spinner- they were for those that needed it, not for those that just had them cause they were “Cool”. She sighed to herself, rolling her finger over the ball, hearing the excited cry of a child, and the soft murmur of a voice, perhaps reassuring them.

Lavena smiled to herself, shifting from her position to glance about her, leaning forward just slightly to check her case was still under her seat, just as things seemed to go pear shape. Turbulence rocked the plane, perhaps the most violent she had ever come across, and she immediately sat up straight, buckling her belt on, she gripped the fidget cube tightly in her left hand, feeling her heartbeat speed up. For the first time she realised just how small a plane was. And that it was metal, flying in the air. Even though she knew how it worked, knew how a plane could fly, suddenly Lavena found herself utterly terrified, and she closed her eyes tightly.

As it steadily became worse, Lavena dug her fingernails into the palm of her right hand, the nails cutting into her skin, warm blood flowing around her fingers, dripping steadily onto her leg, the ground. She shook violently, ”It’s going to be okay” she whispered to herself, over and over again, as if by saying it and wishing it so, she could make it so. Then the plane made sounds that Lavena knew she never wanted to hear, ever again, had never wanted to hear on a flight. Groaning, creaking... was that breaking? Rattling- was her luggage going to fall? And why was she worrying about that?

Her breathing came hard and fast, short and shallow, and she recognised that she was panicking, she could feel her heart beating furiously fast, as if it actually wanted to burst out of her chest, and the sickly powerful feeling of adrenaline, the need to run, but there was nowhere to run on this stupid metal box. As the explosion rocketed the ship, Lavena screamed, the raw, primal scream tearing through her throat painfully, and she drew in a breath to let out another one, but she was near sobbing now.

Each breath that she managed to get in was painful, and they were exploded out into sobs. This wasn’t something she could fight- there was no way she could beat the plane up and tell it to get its ass back into line. It just wasn’t possible. She couldn’t do anything, and she hated the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of fear nearly paralysing her. This wasn’t who she was, but she couldn’t get her body to obey her.

She was huddled in her seat, eyes closed tightly, shaking, and hyperventilating. She couldn’t stop it. The thuds of the luggage falling jolted her into some semblance of action, as she searched for her own bag, her eyes, red and stinging, opened as she searched. She swallowed, her throat still painful- was it possible to make your throat bleed by yelling?- her fingers reaching for the clasp, to unbuckle herself, her blood making the buckle slippery. It took a few seconds, but she managed to do it, her need to make sure her prototype was okay overpowering the fear, for a moment at least.

And then her case slipped out, and down the aisle. She stumbled, and fell into the lap of the guy next to her, the old guy probably thinking all his dreams had come true as she just about ended face up in his lap, before she managed to get back to her feet, stumbling towards the isle, she fell into the luggage, and in moments she had her black case in her hands, the waterproof case seeming to be alright. She huddled there, shaking and shivering, tears falling down her face, sobs still coming out violently. She rose to her feet shakily, and for a moment she didn’t think her legs would support her weight, they felt so weak. She was just about to get back to her seat, when the plane began to tear apart.

She gripped the case with one arm, the other, dropping the fidget cube, snatched at the arm of the chair closest to her, as some girl was thrown out the plane, towards the darkness below. Within seconds, Lavena knew that she would follow the girl, her grip weakening on the chair by the sheer force of it, her fingers slipping. One last sob escaped her, as her hand was torn away from the seat, her body slamming into the chairs on the other side painfully, and she thought hard enough to crack a rib or two, before she was flung to the ground, sliding towards the tear in the plane, she tried to reach for something, anything else, to keep her on the plane, but it was impossible.

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇᕮᗷOOT

@Stitches
Thanks mate! Its a great post btw, i enjoyed reading it

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇᕮᗷOOT

@Stitches
Hey, mate. We weren't going to the water or lighthouse yet, just the plane stuff. You've gone further then what the GM has written for.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

Giving up entirely, Michael dropped his head on Prince's chest, hiding his face completely. There were times when he couldn't tell if Prince was teasing him or not, and now was one of those times. He made a small sound, trying to figure out what Prince was doing... And how he had gotten himself into such a situation again with the catman. "I..I... I-I-I-I... " He stammered, his voice slightly muffled as he tried to form some sort of a sentence that made sense. Why did this happen? Why did he get so flustered, so easily?

He didn't want to be like this, but he couldn't seem to help it, no matter how much he tried... it just got worse. He swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth as he tried to muster up his courage, sure that it would be a failure, like always. He just... he wanted to be able to say what he wanted to... even if he didn't know how to say it.... Why did he stutter? Why couldn't he get passed it?

"I... I-I-I... I d-d-d-don't -kn-kn-know... "

@Silver Fox

Academy: A school for Heroes and Villains (open to all)

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Phoebe Wayne-Isley

Location:Academy.
^{Interacting With:Deon Howlette (@YoshiSkittlez) (@Almalthia) and Lavi Kyle (@Ejected)}

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As Una called out to her, Phoebe glanced over to her new friend ”Oh… “ she shifted slightly, carefully removing the vines and wrapping them around a nearby tree, gently nudging both the tree and the vines to accept one another and live in harmony. She made sure that Una’s luggage wasn’t going to tumble all about and potentially hurt someone. She winced at the other girl’s attempt to ignore Deon, as much as Deon had ignored her. It seemed obvious to her- like she was trying to hard and Phoebe didn’t know how to advise Una against it. Was Una jealous? That shocked Phoebe. Someone was jealous of her? Had that ever happened before? She stared at her friend, trying to figure it out.

Was she… pretty? Desirable? Someone to be envied? It threw her off balance, and she didn’t know how to respond. As Lavi pushed her way between her and Deon, Phoebe was a little grateful. It gave her a chance to try and compose herself. It seemed that Lavi had become offended at his comments and at being overlooked. Did someone think they were all that? She hadn’t been sure on Lavi before and now… She wasn’t particularly partial to her, even if she was thankful for the few moments she gave her.

As he answered her question, Phoebe couldn’t help but think that there was more going on there then he was letting on. Curious about that but for the moment deciding not to question it, and see him just about leering over Lavi. Had that been what he had done to her? Leer? This guy was definitely not someone she wanted to mess around with- she wondered if she could just walk away. She had a choice- and she’d be damned if she was going to be forced into doing something, anything she didn’t want to. She suddenly wished that Lavi hadn’t left, and that Una was going to hang around.

Maybe she should have gotten a dog or something… she’d always thought about getting a pet when she left the orphanage, but somehow, she hadn’t had much of a chance to do so. She’d had to find a place, and then she’d gotten the invitation to come here… getting a pet hadn’t been a priority as opposed to surviving. And if she was ever lonely, she could always create her plant monsters. She realised she was getting off track, and turned her attention back towards Deon, as she contemplated just walking away.

She decided to give him a chance, but one wrong move, or word and she was out of there, even if she had to punch him and tie him up with vines to do so. She doubted he wouldn’t take too kindly to “No” or any variation of that. As he chuckled at his own words, Phoebe raised a brow. Definitely arrogant, and it seemed like he thought he was god's gift to women.

She hoped he’d soon realise otherwise. She was still going to go on the walk he’d off-

”I don't think the school is opening up for a bit. Wanna go catch a more private scene?"

At his words, Phoebe tensed. She was sure it wasn’t for a private chat, but for something else. She shifted her weight to her back foot as she contemplated punching him. She decided after a few seconds that that would probably leave her hurting worse than him- she wasn’t entirely sure that she could throw a punch. ”Actually, you know what? I don’t think I’m interested in that walk.”