Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current considering I'm already being called out: if you're feeling so arrogant you're calling the story you're making a character for shallow, do everyone a favour and get out of that RP. it's not for you.
3 yrs ago
I'd think a professional would be a better place to voice your problems and vent for positive reactions, rather than the status bar of an RP forum. But that's just me.
3 yrs ago
Respect isn't given, it is earned.
5 yrs ago
Case closed (3)
6 yrs ago
I hear french and all I can think about is "Omelette du fromage"


Something something... will write something here later.

Fun fact: I never did

Most Recent Posts


@Aewin, @Legion02 & @Melo
𝐓𝐖: Gratuitous profanity, threats of violence

The sun was already pouring through her window when Melissa woke up. Her blankets were tangled around her legs and her head was laying on her arms. With squeezed eyes and a groggy mind, she looked at her shared room. Someone must’ve forgotten to lower the blinds. Or someone broke it. Yesterday the floor was nice and cleaned. Now it was littered – again – with tons of buttons, springs, relays, circuit boards, and other devices. She could accurately guess what about half of them were for. Then the still uncapped sharpie in her hand came into her blurry vision.

“Oh no.”

She craned her neck upwards. It happened again. The ceiling was a mess of strange symbols, lines, and scribbles. It could depict a circuit, a chemical formula, or just a random mind map. There really was no way to know right now. Exhausted, she let her head fall on her arms again. For five more minutes, she just wanted to sleep. In those five minutes, her curiosity got the better of her. Quite gracelessly, she rolled out of her bed and started taking pictures with her phone of the drawings. In a month or two they might serve as a catalyst for her next Eureka moment. Her slowly booting up brain then realized she probably had a witness of last night!

Melissa kicked some of the tools on her floor out of her way as she made her way to her door and then to her first suitemate’s door. She never tried the handle though. It would be locked. Really, some people could be so inconsiderate and make her do all this work in the morning! She pulled out a pen-like device and pushed it into the lock. It buzzed, cracked and made the insides of the lock glow for just a second before a soft click told Melissa that she was in. As per usual really. Without even knocking she opened the door and walked up towards Mithra. “Mithra. Hey Mithra, Mithra. Mithra are you awake?” Melissa asked as she poked her suitemate.

A hand appeared from the pile of blankets, pillows and fluff Mithra’s head was suffocating under, swatting away at Melissa’s incessant poking. “Why the hell are you awake so early-- go back to sleep.” The demand was comically muffled by the layers covering her face and only her face. The rest of her body remained completely uncovered by any sheet, with the sunlight from the window beside Mithra’s bed hitting her directly.

“I need you to tell me what I was saying yesterday.” Melissa said. There was a certain urgency in her voice. The poking would get her to wake up in the long term but really Melissa did not have that time right now. She got up and walked out of Mithra’s room for just a few seconds. Then walked back in. A moment later a cup’s worth of cold water fell down upon the Indian girl’s stomach.

A moment it was called. A moment where Griffin stood in the bathroom, shaving and perfectly minding his own business. All in just his underwear, as men tend to do. He left the door unlocked because, as has been previously established, in a home with Melissa and this dude who can literally teleport, locks are merely an inconvenience.Then, Miss Carter storms into the bathroom, doesn’t even acknowledge his existence and steals his cup with water without even a second thought. Perhaps it was because he had only been around these crazies for a week, but he hadn’t quite gotten used to bathroom invasions.

”Yo Mel, what the fuck!” He shouted after her, following her out of the bathroom. Partially because he was curious what kind of crazy scheme she was cooking up now and because that WAS. HIS. CUP. He arrived in the room just in time to see her pour it down all over Mithra. ”Isn’t it a little early to be watering the plants?” He said, continuing to shave his half-slain stubble all the while.

The cold water disrupted what comfortable warmth Mithra felt while lounging under the sunlight. It sent shockwaves up her spine, and a strangled surprised cry escaped her as she flailed out of bed dramatically. “Couldn’t it wait FIVE minutes? Fuck!” Her cotton pyjamas were soaked, leaving her feeling uncomfortably wet on the floor.

She looked at the two bedroom invaders, pointing an accusatory finger at each of them. “I get Einstein being here, but why Santa? I didn’t sign up for a threesome!” Not like it was uncommon for her two roommates to barge into her room uninvited. With the three of them together, doors were only a formality, not a necessary privacy.

“Not really.” Mel said as she shrugged her shoulders, tossed the cup - without really looking - at Griff’s general direction and finally crouched down beside Mithra and looked into her eyes. “You know that it vanishes for me. I really need you here, Mithra.” There was genuine pleading in her voice. Truth be told she really needed Griff and Mithra to remember the things she said when she was in one of her states. They gave her so many breakthroughs, but whenever she tried to record herself the devices ended up smashed or broken. It was as if her alter ego during her bouts knew she was being recorded by technology and broke it apart. Really, all she had were Griff and Mithra. “I’ll owe you one.” Mel added with a small smile.

”Jesus!” Griffin exclaimed as the cup came straight for his head. Luckily for him, the glass cup simply disappeared into a puff of silvery mist the moment it made contact with him, the mist seeping into his body as it did. Who the fuck threw glass around? ”Is some common decency in this place really too much to ask for? Tits on a pike.” He said, suppressing the urge to toss his shaver right back at her. He wasn’t quite sure whether to be more annoyed at being target practice or because she was blatantly ignoring him in favor of Mithra. What was he? A goddamn phantom? ”Also, I told you to stop calling me Santa.”

Mithra’s giggled uncontrollably watching Griff’s reaction to the tossed cup, but when Melissa’s face grew closer, it forced the plant girl to contemplate her request. “Well if you say it like that...” Mithra could never resist the cry for help. Maybe it was some kind of dormant protector gene-- Nah, who was she kidding, Mithra liked being owed, and Melissa had plenty to offer. Mithra got up from the floor, dusting away (uselessly) at her damp clothes before sitting back down on the bed. “Santa over here might know more shit, I barely understand half the things that come out of that mouth. Anyway, you were spewing something about a gravity flexing something that makes your chicken soup taste better. But only in specific conditions, otherwise it becomes shit soup.”

Then, like Melissa, Mithra threw one of her discarded pillows at Griffin, using the guy just like target practice. Why? Because it was funny watching him squirm. “And bitch, don’t talk about common decency when you’ve broken into my room as well! I’ll call you Santa all I want till then ‘cus you keep breaking in. And Mel, don’t throw your damn cup in my room. What if that shit got on my walls?” It wasn’t like she could tell the mold to go away, fungi control was beyond her capabilities.

“Griff would’ve poofed it.” Melissa just shrugged. Then fell into some deeper thoughts as she tried to fit the chicken soup condition in whatever strange mind construct her spotty memory was formulating.

”Oh yes Santa might know-” Griffin said high-pitched, then dodged the pillow. ”Well Santa is rather pissed right now. So you can both shove it.” Griffin didn’t quite have coal at hand, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give them their just desserts. Griffin’s hand shrouded in mist, reaching someplace in the living room. Then opened another portal over the girls’ heads as he dumped potting soil from the houseplants over them. ”And it was graviton fluctuation, dumbass.” Knowing he was not welcome in the room, he turned around and retreated into the hallway.

Melissa was about to say something when the soil fell all over her. It surprised her more than anything really. “What did you do that for?” She asked. Her tone sounded genuine. She hadn’t done anything bad to him! And why was everyone so hung up over a cup? He poofed it. He always poofs dangerous things. That makes them no longer dangerous to throw at him then. “And why are you lying?” She quickly added. “Graviton fluctuations? Gravitons are still just a theoretical concept doofus. They’re not proven to exist. Gravity flexing makes way more sense.” Then she brushed off most of the dirt off her and sat down into the neat pile of black earth that Griff had indirectly made. “So what are you guys going to do today?”

“I’m going to beat a bitch up, is what I’m gonna do! SOIL? IN MY ROOM?!” Mithra’s voice grew shrill by the end, absolutely insulted by Griff’s choice of weapon. Of all things, soil, the very soil that protected her potted plants that were strewn across the communal living space. “Oi! Griff! C’mere you little gremlin, just cus you’re a freshman I’m not gonna go easy!” Mithra hopped off her bed, pulling Melissa with her to follow after Griff.

”Woman, you were the super genius here. Don’t ask me what the fuck is theoretical or not.” It was hard to put into words just how infuriating they were to live with. Was this what one year of crestview did to a person? It was a surprise it hadn’t gone up in flames sooner. And seriously, who took his stuff without asking and then threw it in his fucking face. It wasn’t that he was in danger. It was, simply put, the audacity and disrespect of the situation that had finally made Griff decide to go scorched earth here. A shame too, because Griffin was actually quite interested in finding out why super-genius Melissa was so interested in slow-boiling chicken soup. What kind of higher purpose could that even serve? Perhaps Griff would be better off not knowing about this theoretical science stuff at all. But unfortunately super-genius Mel had been a little bit too loud last night.

”Can’t catch up with those stubby legs, little gnome!” Griff called as he got back into the bathroom, properly locking the door this time.

Melissa got dragged to her feet in a very confusing instance. Though she gleefully joined Mithra in chasing Griff. The both of them reached the door just a second too late. Mel could clearly hear the lock mechanism. “Does Griff have some sort of short-term memory loss… thing?” Melissa whispered as she pulled the pen-like skeleton key out and waved it before Mithra. “I open it and then you do… whatever you’re planning to do.” She put the pen in the lock, let it do its thing, then counted down from three with her fingers towards Mithra before flinging the door open.

The door opened, revealing… an empty bathroom. “The pussy did his vanishing act!” She said, blinking incredulously before taking a deep breath. “AT LEAST FACE ME IF YOU’RE GONNA TOUCH MY PLANTS, YOU COWARD!” Mithra hollered into the bathroom as though Griff’s lingering portal would take her voice to wherever he was.

Ever since Mithra and Melissa were joined by the freshman, Griffin, in their dorm room, things had grown lively. Not that it wasn’t already with the bombastic Mithra and the clever mischievous Melissa combined, but Griffin added another level to their energy. Mithra and Griffin were avid bickerers, constantly quipping and trying to one up each other, but it was clear as day that that was how they bonded. It was enough for Mithra to even offer Griff the opportunity to run for her business. Though she would never admit to it, but they were business partners, roommates and rivals all packed into one friendship. However, no kind of friendship could stand between her and her plants. With those plants being her domain, she was naturally protective of them and Griff, being her roommate, would know that better than others. He declared WAR.

Yet war was just as much a part of their bickering as mischief was, part of a never ending cycle the roommates were caught up in.

Mithra turned to face Melissa instead, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Right, guess I’m up now. So what, we still going to the club fair?”

“Club w-” Melissa’s eyes went wide. Shit. She knew she had forgotten something! “Yes!” She then quickly exclaimed. “You were going to show me some club right?” The girl was wrecking her already permanently chaotic brain on which club it was. Something with a Q? Or an H?

”The hiking club!”

It was so simple. Griffin just closed the door, and with the two extra seconds it took for them to open it up after locking it, he had already teleported himself. And so it was that he stepped out behind them, out of the door to his own room. He stood behind them with his usual, casual smile. ”I’ll meet you there, so don’t be late!” And with that, he was gone again. Normally he would’ve taken them with him through the pocket dimension. But unfortunately for them this was war, apparently. They could walk.

Mithra, upon hearing Griffin’s voice immediately and petulantly raised her middle finger in his direction, mostly shooting it at his poofy portal. “Fuck, we gotta beat him to that stall somehow. C’mon.” Mithra was ready to leave, still clad in pyjamas and all. The plant girl was on a mission and no attire could distract her from her goal. Didn't matter if technically Griff had already beaten the girls to the stall thanks to his portals, not when pride was on the line.

Current form: Female
Location: The Foggy Glass & The Quad
Interacting with: Krista Müller @aewin

It was 5 AM, and everyone at Crystal Peak that was of sound mind was still sleeping. The waxing crescent moon still hung in the sky and the sun’s illumination yet a but a looming threat to its presence. Sasha jogged through empty, dimly lit streets through the town centre. She stopped at the backdoor of The Foggy Glass. She looked around, scanning her surroundings, before pulling the key out of her back pocket. She unlocked the door and then locked it again behind her.

It had taken Sasha a lot of effort to get this entire gig arranged over summer. She still recalled Isaac Schutlz’s puzzled look when she first brought up the idea. Not to mention her dad’s expression, who had laughed in his usual, bellowing roars that had become a meme for a short while when it first appeared on the big screen. Recalling the entire thing evoked a giggle. It couldn’t be helped, she had needed his credit card to get it sorted. The old man was stingy with money, even after the entire top 8 schtick was practically showering him with more money than the Delgados knew what to do with, as a result of his own frugal upbringing. But hearing that it was for training purposes, he quickly relented.

Sasha stepped into her own private distillery in the bar’s back chambers. She had wanted to install it in her dorm room at first, in truth, but that idea had been shot down quickly. Unfortunately her intimate relationship with her resident assistant did not quite open these kinds of doors. Isaac had arranged a room in the bar for her, instead. Perhaps it was for the best. After all, the distillery would’ve taken up far too much space! It had turned into more of a small laboratory, in truth. Sasha was planning to work on a few different chemicals here. Not all of them were quite legal, but that was only a problem if people found out. Regardless, for now, strong drink was more than plenty.

Arranged on a shelf at the back of the room were a series of bottles, about a litre each, all neatly labelled with their contents. Spirits, with alcohol percentages ranging between roughly 90 and 95%. About as strong as they came, for the most part.
With her finger she traced the shelves, picking out bottles she deemed fit. She set aside a number of bottles for the party. Even though she had said this was meant for training, certainly nobody would mind if she donated a few bottles to a good cause every now and then.

She then took another bottle off the shelf and opened it. The burning scent of nearly-pure alcohol seared her nostrils and sent a shiver coursing through her body. She stared at it for a while. She thought about this for a while, before concluding: Hesitation is for pussies.Then she put the bottle to her lips and sent it all down the hatch in one go. Her throat was a burning mass of agony for but a moment. With a thought, she told all nerve endings in her oesophagus to go take a hike. She did the same to her stomach, and repressed anything that would send it back up again. Instead, she promoted the uptake of all this alcohol into her body. All the while, she took a second bottle to repeat this entire process, followed by a third just for good measure.

She opened the floodgates of her blood-brain-barrier, letting in the copious amounts of alcohol even more easily than it normally did. She let it fill up until her brain was positively bathing in the stuff. The alcohol started to react with her brain, doing all the things it would normally do to get a person drunk. And then dead, given how much of the god damn stuff there was coursing through her veins right now.

But Sasha denied it, and shut down all attempts of reactions with her brain right then and there. And so there the alcohol was, bereft of its original purpose. Unsure of what to do besides just try to interact with that brain as was its nature, again and again,, yet to be denied again and again. A desperate assault of molecules on her brain, crying for the fulfilment of their destiny. But they failed.

And so Sasha’s newest addition to their usual training routine had successfully commenced. Sasha gathered the other bottles in a backpack, closed it carefully and took them back to her dorm room for the party. Then she went to the training centre and continued with their usual workout.

The art of not having anything fuck around with your body that you don’t want it to was one of Sasha’s greatest techniques. But amongst those, keeping your brain functioning properly was always a difficult one. To stop anything, or anyone, from messing with all those neural stimuli, synapses, neurotransmitters and constant creation and destruction of neural connections all around the damn thing was difficult. All the while figuring out which ones her own body actually intended to do, and in the meantime not fucking up and actually shutting the whole thing down because you were stopping some crucial reaction from occurring.

For most of her body parts this had been a cinch. And even for the brain she was learning how to master it now. In truth, she could already do it perfectly when focussing. But doing it perfectly in the heat of battle was an entirely different thing. And so Sasha had to train to manage their brain while doing other things. Primarily battle training. She followed her usual martial arts routines, as drilled into her by her father and other trainers. Kickboxing and kung-fu, primarily. Then she morphed her body to a different configuration and did them again. One time she was small, barely a metre. Another time she stood at about five and was covered in a carapace of bone and six arms. She made sure to use her powers a lot in this routine. After all, that was what she would be doing in actual combat. Using abilities simultaneously was another one of those things she kept training.

Afterward she went back to her dorm, took a refreshing shower and switched into her attire for the day. She opted for a cropped white top with a graphic bee design, paired with a mini sporty skirt that hugged her body comfortably. She also wore an oversized leather jacket with leather loafers and long black socks. She proceeded to follow her morning classes, and certainly did note the look Isaac gave her, knowing fully well what was going on. She had told him, after all. She did notice an onset of drunkenness when a class got slightly too boring, but that was quickly undone, and repaired.

Luckily for her, her classes ended at exactly 12 today. She strolled from the academy straight to the Quadrangle. The great bustling of people added but another distraction, just as intended. She weaved through the crowd, exchanging some greetings along the way while on the lookout for the freshmen. Sasha did quite enjoy this whole socialising thing, even if she had to reintroduce herself at times. Alas, that was one of the few drawbacks of this whole shape changing thing.

She was expected to be at the theatre club; their play was at 1:30. Here and there around the quad there hung posters of the event so that nobody would have to miss it. She didn’t doubt that they were already setting up. She would need to get changed and get her make-up done. But she was here early. So certainly she could afford a short stop at the music club before that.

The music stall was lively, as it was every year. Some students were already signing sheets, promising it would be another good turnout this year. And there she saw Krista, who seemed to have just failed enticing a new prospect. Sasha chuckled softly, waiting for the student to leave earshot before approaching. ”I think you need to practice your siren song. Because you certainly aren't luring them in.” She smiled. But then she noticed her expression was unusual for the bubbly blonde. Contemplative, perhaps? ”Hey, you okay? It’s really not a big deal to let one slip the net!”

Interactions: Brenna @smarty0114

In the distance Athena felt them flooding in, a slow torrent of souls divulging into Castle Street. Students mainly, but some teachers as well. She didn’t have to read minds to pick out the freshmen, marked by their nervous curiosity and wonder. They stood out amongst their upperclassmen who had seen this far more often. Just as noticeable was the apprehension here and there. Crestviews, surely, uncertain amongst new peers. At least, so she figured. Further away, she noticed William and Matthew leaving the training grounds. She casually wondered how they were progressing, and if Matthew was still complaining about those push-ups.

Ever since she was ten she had mastered her ability to focus. To not let the hundreds, thousands of minds present around her at any time distract her from any task at hand. But focus was barely a requirement when all she was doing was playing chess against the uninitiated. After all, today a number of the members played against anyone who felt up to the task. The chess club commanded a stand with a large tent, boasting a bevy of tables with games set up. Across her table was a young man, a freshman, who had a passing interest in the sport and thought he was too good to join the workshop the club was giving on the other end of the space. She didn’t need to see his mind to notice him growing antsy every time the clock closed in on zero. They handled a strict turn timer today, to give everyone a chance to play.

She barely needed to think about all the variations in these matches. So far, Athena had to weave in a number of inaccuracies in her moves to make up for her opponent’s blunders. She didn’t want to crush these newcomers within ten turns, after all. She had seen how morale-crushing that was when she had first done this gig as a sophomore. Apparently putting some big tourney participants was a good way to show off, who knew?

The real reason she was here today, besides it simply being expected of the new head of the club, was the exhibition matches against actually good players later on. She needed a challenge to focus. Her mind was her only weapon, and chess helped keep it sharp for when the time comes. Even now she sometimes imagined those pieces on the other side of the board were Alexander Cashmore and his pawns. Her father was one of the knights and the queen had been taken before her time. However, she still needed her pieces. But one day she would ruin him, reveal his atrocities and blow his head off. In that order, preferably.

And just like that, with passing stray frustration, her opponent had been checkmated. She tried to put up a pleasant smile, but failed spectacularly. ”Well played.” It almost didn’t sound dismissive. Her opponent left the table in quite a hurry after that. Athena sighed, and took a few deep breaths. She stood up from the table and excused herself for a short break.

She let her mind wander as she went off to get a drink. Her invisible projection floated above the crowds, scanning for familiar faces. Guided by the congregation of minds that she detected all over the place at points of interest. She passed Matthew, being his usual awkward self, and barely resisted looking at his phone screen. She passed over many clubs, either still preparing or actively engaging with the crowd. The music club had gathered many, no doubt due to the party that they were hosting soon. Oh, Athena was looking forward to that.

And then she passed by her salvation, or so she hoped.

”You, me, chess club stand. I need an actual challenge.” She spoke into Brenna’s mind. Now she only hoped the ice queen was in a mood to play.

Thank you to who sent me the candy cane! Very sweet <3
Happy holidays to you as well!
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