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College student here.
I enjoy spaceship RPs and even fantasy RPs if the setting is right.
I'd say I enjoy Halo RPs but those don't really exist anymore.
In the end I enjoy soccer the most, though.
I hope you're having a splendid day :)

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Paric's heart dropped as his wrist found itself in a vise-like grip. The world was that way, though. All one had to do was show was a hint of weakness and the world would take a shit on that individual. Then again, in a way, Paric had been greedy by not taking the chance to leave. But Mop had recovered fast, fast enough to possibly raise an alarm. After all, the strength in that grip was a testament to Mop's remaining strength.

The Eldi's only chance of avoiding injury, as unlikely as that seemed, would be to act quickly while Mop was still weakened. Paric, however, knew what he now faced. Was he ready for the outcome? Perhaps, as it would keep him alive. In a moment, quicker than a heartbeat, Paric made his decision.

"I have another hand." Immediately following his statement, Paric's free hand twitched, releasing a stream of golden mage-fire into Mop's chest, the fire was bent around Mop and behind him so it would not harm Paric himself.


Paric's poorly planned and executed leap caused him to hit the cobbles hard. Even though the Eldi had landed on his clothed shoulder, he felt his skin being peeled away as he slid on the cobbles. The air was knocked from his lungs, forcing him to gasp for the air that stank of dead fish.

A loud crack and flash had occurred when Paric had impacted the ground. The power of Ayer's attack rushed through his entire body and even now he could feel the power in the air. So that device had allowed Ayer avid skill at wind magic, but, then... quite a strike using lightning. Yet, Paric saw as he rolled to his back, Mop was still standing. "Now," he said breathlessly, "that is impressive." With a cough, Paric got to his feet. Next to his feet was a stone, one that fit in his hand perfectly. Paric picked it up.

"Now," Paric began as he approached Mop, "I've had my fair share," he coughed, "of blood. So has my friend, I would think." He was now standing in front of the motionless man whose eyes still showed comprehension. "Maybe you will bleed out here in this terror of a town. Maybe you'll survive, found by some guard only happy, not from you being alive, but because he'll be rewarded." He coughed again, his lungs still recovering from his impact. "I do not care which way your destiny flows. I just want a damned drink." Without Malice, Paric raised the hand the stone was in and struck Mop on the side of the head.


Paric questioningly furrowed his brows as Locke began to speak. Philip? Who the hell was Philip? Paric began to move his hands up and slowly backtrack when it hit him. Oh, he thought, the guard we just incapacitated was Philip. To Paric there was not any sign that would have predicted Locke's lightning fast charge. The Eldi did not have a chance to even think about how he would use his mana, as he was too stunned to do so, nor did he have the time. Instead, he launched himself sideways, the launch being weak with his fatigued legs. Had he been of complete health the leap would probably have been enough to safely dodge the entire rush, but his weak leap made it possible for him to be caught if Locke was able make a change in direction.

There was no chance that Paric would have been able to conjure a spell that would have stopped that rush. From the split second Paric was able to see Locke he had noticed something unnatural about the drunk. It would have taken more time to gather and release a devastating wave of fire capable of stopping that headlong rush. For all of the Eldi's natural ability with magic, he had to rely on his agile Eldi physique. It seemed Locke knew this as well, for he had not hesitated when the situation became known to him. It seemed that the situation would lay in the hands of Ayer. Even if Paric managed to dodge, Locke would probably be right behind him.


Paric had walked over to a wall to lean on as he watched the guard walk further into Ayer's trap. With his adrenaline gone, his legs were killing him after all that running. It was going to hurt to just walk to the ships, he was sure running would strain or pull a muscle, if not worse. Both of their fates rested on Ayer's shoulders, but the young man seemed somewhat reliable even if he had yet to prove himself. Paric shook his head slowly. What had he done to himself?

Ayer's strike was announced by a loud pop followed by a flash of light. Paric's eyes widened at the strength of that blow. It had been wind magic, he was sure of it. The flash left him confused, however. Did that device actually work so well as to expel elemental mana? He shook his head again. Ayer was turning out to be more useful to their survival than he thought. That blow had actually pushed the man into the wall which had caused a audible thump. Paric pushed himself off the wall and started over towards the man laying on the ground. Ayer was checking the guards pulse with relief flooding his face. So the guard did survive that blow.

Paric heard the shout and footsteps as he was halfway to Ayer. Ayer was already raising his device, his hands working over the many buttons and whatever else was on it. Paric turned towards the oncoming man, realizing who it was. Mop. "Whaa..." Paric had sworn the man was drunk off his ass earlier. Yet here he was, coming straight for them. Paric felt a faint trace of mana swirling around his hands as he realized he would have to fight. "Ayer," Paric muttered, "I hope you have something for this commander." There was more than simple cruelty that allowed a person to become a commander of Nillium. No, Mop would put up a fight. Paric just wondered if the man was capable of strong magic.

His ruse had almost worked perfectly. Paric realized that he may have faked being drunk to well. "Hmm," he mumbled uner his breath "I guess I drink too much." He shrugged and looked over at the guard. The poor man's shoulders had dropped, probably thinking that Paric made it all up for attention or something. Then again, he didn't feel too bad, given what the guard had been happy about. It didn't matter though, the guard was still headed in Ayer's general direction, only at a less excited pace.

For Ayer, it was only going to be easier, with the guard's awareness even further down. Paric wondered how that device Ayer had would work. Ayer didn't mention how he planned to use it, how loud it might be, what it could do the the guard, or anything of the sort. Ayer had simply... stepped off with what seemed to be confidence in his device. Their plan was working though. It reminded him some stories he had heard as a child. A classic bait and knock unconscious trap.

Paric looked away from the guard and down at the flask he held in his hand. It almost felt good to stop drinking. Almost. He would have find something to drink if they escaped, even if it was that terrible stuff the homeless drank. He'd gone down to their level before, but it is hard to go poor as an Eldi mage in a town such as Nilliam.


The plan seemed a little too easy as the suspected guard made his way over to Paric, who had stopped shouting, but was still waving his hands as if in a panic. Not only was it encouraging to see how well they managed to get the suspected guard to come, but the guard had also told off his buddies. Ayer and Paric had the guard all to themselves.

As the guard made his final approach, Paric heard encouraging words reach him, assuring him that he was protected by all the guards in the area. "Ohhh," Paric mumbled, "thankya for comin." As commanded by the guard, he took a step towards where Ayer had snuck off, and feigned a stumble. "Ohhh." He mumbled again. Paric took out his empty flask and pressed it on his forehead. "heuh, heuh went thaway." Paric said, pointing in the direction, and taking the flask from his forehead. "I'm sor-sorry sir. I uh finished my flask soon as I saw him runin by." Paric dropped the arm that he had used to point out the direction of Ayer. "I think theuh alcohol got me. Theyuh said he is dangerous. Thought he was gon get me."

Paric smiled to himself, thinking he had sold the poor, scared drunk that had spotted a fugitive. If anything, this guard would write him off as an accomplice. That would make it easier for him to help Ayer if things went badly, as the guard probably would not suspect anything from him. He put a hand on his forehead. He really did have a headache.

Paric listened to Ayer's dialogue in relief. He did not have a plan to get past these guards, let alone to deal with the guard who might have seen them. "Yes, I agree, friend. Your plan is risky but, unfortunately, it is necessary." He said, his breathing slowing, making it easier to speak again. What to come would lead to their escape or their demise. If he was an assassin, or a thief, he probably could have just escaped easily. One of those astrology based mages, the lunar ones, would laugh at how much the two had struggled in this escape.

"Get ready." Paric headed off towards the nearest staircase. He assumed Ayer would find somewhere to hide where he could use a blunt object to incapacitate the guard from behind. The Eldi wasn't ready for a drawn out fist fight. He wasn't in the form to do that, nor had he actually punched someone in a long time. For both their sakes, Paric hoped the human swung hard.

There was some doubt that his voice would carry through the noise currently blasting through the city, so Paric waved his hands in the air alongside repetitively yelling "Ayer is over here! Help me!"
The flight from the Nilliums had been relatively free of complications. In fact, their path had been so haphazard that they had managed to avoid many groups of guards, occasionally hearing a loud call as the guards pinpointed their location, but they would quickly run out of sight. Paric predicted that their path was not the only reason for a lack of conflict, the guards knew that eventually the duo would run into a corner or finally exhaust all of their energy. The Nilliums were, after all, dealing with a fire mage and whatever Ayer had up his sleeve. Waiting until both were tired was probably the safest way to go about apprehending the two.

Paric's mind had been running through the possible scenarios that could unfold when the they arrived at the shipyard. He had thought about sparking the entire dock to fire, but that wouldn't have done anything for them. He thought about killing the entire crew of a ship and taking if for themselves. That wouldn't work either, for, in the end, they couldn't sail a ship completely by themselves. Of course, he was sure he could not do either of those things anyway, especially in his current state.

No, in the end, they'd have to get to a ship and either bribe or threaten the ship's captain. He certainly did not have any material to bribe with, but his new friend might.

When they finally came to the end of their rooftop journey, Paric was panting like a dog. They could finally see the shipyard... and the many guards who were positioned there. "Friend," he said between breaths, "look... at that man... they," he straightened so he could breath better, "they call him Mop." He eyed the man for a moment longer. "He's drunk... and... he is distracting the guards."
It seemed as if they could sneak past the distracted guards and drunk captain.

Paric's heart dropped when he saw a dock guard turn his head in their direction. He couldn't quite tell if the guard saw them or not, but he had looked directly at them. Of course, these guards would all be antsy with all that was going on. The guard may very well write it off as imagination. If the guard had seen them, then they'd have to deal with the entire dock's worth of guards. He put his hand on his friends shoulder. "Remain still, friend. We may have to sneak past them all. But I believe a guard may have seen us."

Unfortunately, Paric had forgotten all about those guards closing in from behind them.

The man, this human, had said something just before Paric had launched himself up the stairs leading to the roof. Given their situation, Paric had elected to answer the stranger later.

Alongside a reveal of race, the Eldi drunkard had noticed the stranger carrying a pack. A pack in which something important lay hidden, given the stranger's willingness to sacrifice his body for it. The object, or objects, in that pack were probably what emitted the faint aura Paric had noticed earlier, and the very reason he had chosen to save this stranger. Of course, he had not saved the human quite yet. In fact, if he had been in this human's boots, he would probably would have turned and fought to a meager death, as he was probably in worse shape, his only reason for being somewhat thin being his Eldi physique.

Pausing at the top of the staircase, Paric had time to hear the human express his sorrow. "If it makes you feel better," the Eldi grunted, "I would already be dead if I were you." He looked around the rooftops, noticing some figures had already made their way onto the rooftops. Paric did not doubt that more guards would make the ascent to the rooftops and even more would secure the walls. Within seconds Paric's master plan had failed.

Alongside the immediate failure of his plan, Paric was developing a headache from not having anything to drink. He missed the haze alcohol brought to him. When the old seemed to lose their wrinkles and his problems vanished. "What good is a drunk who isn't drunk?" He muttered to himself.

Heavy footsteps broke his train of thought, bringing him back to their delicate predicament. The guards had recovered and were on their way up the stairs. Paric cursed under his breath, spinning on his heels. He waved his hands and a wave of golden flames flew down the stairway. "Uh, the shipyard. We'll go to the shipyard." With that he started to run.
Sometime around 9PM

Paric watched another drop of water as it trickled down the wall of his cheap apartment. In his hand was a small, long dried flask. He had not the money to replenish the spirits that had once swished around inside it. Under him was a wooden chair, each leg had obviously been broke at one point. The Eldi had sat like this for awhile, pondering what brought him to a place ran by a gang. Perhaps it was the cheap liquor, perhaps it was the isolation a place like this could provide to a directionless soul. Either way, he needed to leave. He did not want to get involved with this gang, or worse, get forced into servitude to the filth that this town called a town guard.

It was the faint shouting in the distance that forced his frozen frame into motion, bringing to him the urgent need to relinquish his growing thirst. He slowly stood up and went to his coin bag, only to find it was empty. With a sign he made his way to the apartment door, grimacing at the loud screeching sound the hinges made. He duly noted that night had already landed, meaning he had been sitting in that chair for hours. Paric made his way down his apartment's hallway and to the stone steps leading into a narrow ally. It was at the bottom of the steps that he realized the yelling he had heard previously was quickly approaching. It was not unusual to hear the guard chasing down a thief. However, this was different. Whoever was running was giving the guards some trouble, almost as if this person had been on the run before.

Paric, from the entrance of his little alley, could see the figure in question as it made its way towards him, running furiously through the streets. He had been in this situation before, only to see the runner tackled, shackled, and dumped into some rotting prison cell. This runner was different, however. There was a certain aura to him... or not him even, but to something that he carried.

A few heartbeats later and Ayer was on him. Paric's hands raised. Then night turned to day in this section of street as a conjured, gold colored flare flew past Ayer and at the guards. Within moments Paric had his hands Ayer, pulling the man into the narrow alley in which Paric had been waiting. He figured that the man he had just saved would be just as blind as the guards, so he kept hold of him as they disappeared up the stairs Paric just came from. "Come on, friend, we're going to the roof! It'll lead us near the walls." He said in a deep, rough voice. Paric knew the flare would hardly last. He didn't exactly have the strongest control over his mana. Once expired, the flare would explode in a deafening blast, telling Paric and the man he was helping when the guards would be back on their trail.
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