McHaggis

Forsaken Children of War (Kirah and McHaggis)

Oh god, yes. And the insults get more and more nonsensical as they continue.

Stand Still. Stay Silent. - The Rescue Mission

Lennart Korhonen

NAME: Lennart Korhonen
GENDER: Male
AGE: 20
NATIONALITY: Finnish
IMMUNITY: Yes

LANGUAGES: Finnish

CLASS: Mage
SUBCLASS: Scout

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HEIGHT: 5'7”
WEIGHT: 100lbs
HAIR COLOUR: Blonde
EYE COLOUR: Brown

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PERSONALITY: Lennart is often described as gormless. He is not particularly bright or witty and rarely (if ever) understands more than the simplest forms of humour. When it comes to social interactions, he tends to talk nervously and swiftly in his own language as if not able to process that not everyone else speaks it. Even so, he is characterised by his infinite amount of courage and endless cheer even in the face of danger and adversity. This, in the past, has been taken advantage of. Lennart is gullible, believing in old wives tales and the craziest of superstitions as devoutly as he follows the path of a Finnish mage.

BACKGROUND:
- Born on a small island on Lake Saimaa only recently cleansed, Lennart was the oldest of the settlers' children. Deaf in one ear, he often had difficulties learning even his own language, if only because few people found the time from their busy routine of fishing and forestry to teach him. His own mother was illiterate as he is, a Norwegian who stayed on land only long enough to give birth to him before escaping to adventure and his father was a Finnish man who sought only peace and safety in Keuruu and didn't see fit to take his son with him.

- He quickly fell into a routine of practical work and training in trade skills his village could use (sewing, fishing, scouting, sailing) and spent so much time alone that his ability to see spirits was not fully realised until he was twelve years old. By then, it had started to manifest as incomplete attempts at runo. It was determined that he would be sent to a neighbouring island to apprentice under a senior mage there; however, he had been there for only a month when his previous home was ravaged by the rash sickness as few were immune.

- The news brought Lennart great sadness and he threw himself into meditation and hoped to see the spirits, to guide them into the afterlife. At 17, he enlisted in the military despite his master's fervent belief that he was too soft and would immediately die just from setting foot off the islands. His lack of social skills and unhardened nature gained him few allies but with his sharp eyesight and abilities as a noita he was, at the very least, acknowledged as useful. His only friends, it appeared, were the Gods themselves.

EQUIPMENT:
- Clothing: 3 vests, 2 fur-lined trousers, spare underwear, winter jacket, hand-knitted scarf and an assortment of odd socks
- Scouting Gear: binoculars, flares, whistle, goggles and one length of rope
- Weaponry: an antiquated rifle, two combat knives (one engraved with the name "Sasha"), a few rounds of ammo for rifle
- Mage Gear: matches, candles, incense, flute
- 1 Grade C cat, "Orren"
- 4 days of rations
- Fishing line and dried bait
- Water canteen

Forsaken Children of War (Kirah and McHaggis)

Siobhan grinned back at Kyle somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Guess I walked right by you," she said as she sat down on the hellishly uncomfortable bench. Why oh why couldn't they have the squishy cushions and soft couches of Gryffindor Tower?

As Kyle explained his plan to her, she rubbed her chin. He'd put a lot of thought into it -- more than she had -- and while she didn't have a clue what a 'Catch 22' was, she managed to understand the jist of it. "Hmm... so we're staging a fight? Sounds fun!" After a moment's hesitation, she continued, "I can cry on command. Useful with so many brothers and sisters."

She pulled out a bit of parchment and a long, slightly crushed quill. "What could we argue about? It needs to be realistic... hmm..." Siobhan tugged on the end of her hair before exclaiming (as quietly as she could), "I've got it! You can call me a blood traitor!"

Siobhan hoped almost prayed that it would never get back to Alistair that Kyle had said that or any other slur against her after the Defense class tomorrow. Her older brother was just a bit overprotective.

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Caelum stared for a moment in complete surprise at the man – Tide, if she recalled correctly – and somewhat belatedly realised she hadn't sealed the door behind her. Running a hand tiredly through her hair, she shrugged. “Sure. Not much in the way of seating around here but that bench's cleared.”

The bench she was pointing to wasn't cleared, not entirely. It still had several empty notebooks and a scribbled-on pilot's manual resting on top of it, but Caelum didn't particularly care.

Fingers running of the antiquated knobs and dials no longer connected to the running of the ship as they had been nine years ago, she pressed against the slider to begin the first preparations for checking that The Medusa was airtight and space-worthy. The ship shuddered with the strain of all essential systems activating all at once and the sound of metal clattering against metal resonated throughout it. “There's that rattle,” she mused. “Jason never did fix it...”

The pilot surveyed the screens which flickered on one by one, blinding blue lines etched across her vision. She was determined to change the language ASAP because even if most of her job involved symbols and pictures, it was her own choice to use Arabic – mostly as a secret code. It would take a lot of trial and error to steal the ship from her now.

She stopped at the display of star-maps... well, those were useless – she knew Sycamore and her sister planets like the back of her hand... Swish. She flicked the offending information away. Brand spanking new touch screen interfaces. How... modern.

Caelum carefully observed the screen with the life signs on it and, after ensuring that nobody was standing on or outside the cargo bay doors, she typed in the code to raise it out of muscle memory. Nicki F. Sharpe had made a beeline for the med bay (of course she had) and she was going to find a nasty surprise when she entered–

Ah. Caelum slammed on the tannoy system that ran throughout the ship, directing it exclusively to the crackly one that connected to the med bay. She was sure the mechanics and cleaners who had serviced the ship hours before they all boarded said something about refusing to take care of that room, mostly because... well, of the blood. And the history. “F. Sharpe? Aaah – sorry about the mess in there. Cleaners refused to do it, 'cos it wasn't in their job description. Blood and bodily fluids, y'know.” Had to be nonchalant. Had to be.

Finally, Caelum turned back to Tide with an ever-so-slightly false grin. “So! Ever flown in one of these babies before?” She patted the top of the defunct console.

Lunar Colony Role Play

I'm placing my hopes in Glasgow Uni <3 I've done it but it's terrible so I have to redraft it a couple of times :3

Stand Still. Stay Silent.

Finnish mages are where it's at, though.

Forsaken Children of War (Kirah and McHaggis)

Siobhan had almost finished her dinner when Yvette asked her about dragons with all the fascination that an eleven year old could possess: "Dragons exist? How? Why?" In response, she had let out a startled laugh and smiled.

"Of course they do," she replied, trying oh so hard not to sound condescending -- how had Yvette been exposed to the magical world for so long now and not read a thing about dragons? "Here, look at this." She reached under her shirt and pulled out a rope necklace with a small bone on the end, shaped suspiciously like a fang. It immediately erased Yvette's sceptical expression. "It's from a hatchling, maybe two weeks old. They picked it out of my ear when he bit me."

Surprisingly, Yvette didn't pale rapidly or look in any way, shape or form scared of dragons. Instead, her brown eyes burned with curiosity. Maybe she was destined to be a Gryffindor after all. "And your family takes care of them?"

"Mhm--" Siobhan had been about to reply when Trisha rudely cut her off.

"That's such a load of dragon dung," she said. "They're all on reserves." Siobhan's eyebrow twitched. Just because her roommate was a pureblood didn't mean she wasn't hexable. Then again, she didn't know any that wouldn't backfire if she tried to cast it.

Instead, she rolled her eyes and stood up, grabbing her bag. Might as well leave now. "We own the reserve. Have done for centuries." With that - and a brief goodbye to Yvette who still looked shell-shocked by the news of such a fantastical creature actually existing - the youngest MacFusty skipped off in the direction she hoped the library was in.

Siobhan was in luck, pushing in through the double doors and dropping her bag off at a table in the back of the room surrounded by musty old bookshelves. A rope attached to a sign that read 'restricted section' was within arm's reach of her, and she wondered if an alarm would go off if she wandered into it. She'd have to test that at some point -- maybe even find a copy of that book Maggie McCarthy was reading.

Stand Still. Stay Silent.

Whoa this looks really cool. That art style is so cute too :D

Consider me interested.

Forsaken Children of War (Kirah and McHaggis)

Gryffindor-Slytherin dreamteam x)

Will work on a post to go to the library definitely before bed.

The Walking Dead: What Lies Ahead

MALIK & KALI THORNTON

Emory University. Kali knew that living and studying on this wreck of a campus had once been the destination of her brother's fragile dreams for the future; the ones that never came to fruition. There were relatively few corpses around the cafeteria – some moving, some not – when compared to the maze of streets and alleyways they had to take to get to the radio-designated rendezvous point, but those that were gathering on the fringes of her line of sight painted a gruesome picture of young hopes crushed brutally by an apocalyptic fist.

She liked that sentence. Very poetic.

Having noticed a group beginning to gather, she tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled shyly, showing off two rows of pearly-whites. Behind her, Malik stiffened as if he were about to move in front of her and hide her from view, and she didn't blame him for that; however, to stop him she reached behind her and put a hand on his arm in warning. The first two to arrive (other than the mysterious figure from before) were a man and a woman, both older than she and Malik were at her best guess. Kali observed them for a moment – mostly because they barely gave her a chance to speak with their supposedly reassuring banter – and decided that they weren't lovers. Maybe friends?

“My brother's much the same,” she said eventually, a brilliant (if slightly false) smile plastered across her face. Her dad always had said she'd make a good salesperson. Like the man – Aldous, she reckoned – Malik had moved away from the gathering group to stare stoically at a discoloured red patch on the ground. With a shudder, she realised it was a pile of scattered, chewed entrails. “I'm Kali, and that morbid stick over there is Malik. We think there's people in there but...” Kali ended with a shrug that could either mean 'they're now walking corpses' or 'they're assholes waiting for us to die'.

Glacing warily at the group coming in from behind – two men – she realised they had a dog. A large dog. Perhaps it was just their gender putting her off but she was glad Aldous and Grace had taken it upon themselves to talk to them. Kali carefully slipped over to her brother who was standing with his back against a wall marred by graffiti that proclaimed the end of days. “Dark, huh?” she asked, pointing it out. “Might not be crazy religious folk doing it either – I can't say I disagree with them.”

“I think after the first few 'Oh God's that went unanswered when some Thing was chewing on their insides made 'em reconsider piety,” he said humourlessly, nodding to the spray can lying over by the wall and spattered with blood. “Less competition for Med School, I guess.”

Kali made a noise in the back of her throat that was probably as close to a chuckle as she'd come in the past few days. “Well, I can get the leading role in any show I want.” Malik's lips twitched, though the tense lines around his eyes didn't soften at all. His brow was still furrowed.

“Who are you even gonna act for? The Things?” He mused, throwing an arm around Kali's shoulders and tugging on her matted hair. She smiled as the subtly guided them back towards the group. “'What's for dinner? It is nor hand nor foot/Nor arm nor face, nor any other part/Belonging to a man.'”

“You totally butchered that, Mal,” Kali said, staring at him flatly. How did he even know it? He had never been the most cultured, and she had long since wished for a brother who actually appreciated art and drama rather than gory medical documentaries and self-pity at not becoming a doctor.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the door cracking itself open. Kali was glad, too, because she was beginning to feel as if the Things were closing in on them, attracted by the noise. “After you, m'lady.”

Kali pushed forward with one last dirty look at Malik, leading them into the cafeteria. She spared only a half-glance at the woman who opened the doors – mostly in complete and somewhat inappropriate appreciation for her hairstyle – and wandered over to the nearest corner. She let the trashcan lid she brought in with her hit the floor with a metallic clatter and rested her head theatrically against the cool tiles on the wall. Social interaction was tough.