Mirandae — Roleplayer Guild

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1. Mirandae 3 yrs ago
2. █████ 12 yrs ago
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4 days ago

Current I turned 40 recently. Nothing happened, no crisis or anything. Turns out it's just another year.

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In Harold's Academy for the Magically Inclined → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Force and Fury
No worries, I can change Tessa's gift if @Aeolian approves Florian's gift. Time magic is always a sensitive subject for several reasons. It's baffling how nobody has chosen Laser Beam Eyes from the gift suggestions. I'll do that for Tessa, though, and the lasers will be PINK.

In Harold's Academy for the Magically Inclined → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Emeth
Of course it is :) 

In Harold's Academy for the Magically Inclined → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Thought I'd give a heads-up on something here. All player characters will belong to a Home-Class that has a Mentor. The home class is a way for the academy to organize on a more intimate level below the Houses. New students at the academy are assigned to a home class regardless of age, and they stay there until they graduate. The Mentor of the home class has a supportive role for the students -- they take care of documentation, assist students in their subject classes, communicate with parents, help with studying, follow along on any kind of outings or missions, and provide emotional support whenever needed. The Mentor for the home class of the player characters will be a professor-student named Tessa Vellhart. She is studying to become a professor at the academy but works as a Mentor at the same time.

I'll portray Tessa as my 'character' as I won't join the main cast. She is technically an NPC, so I might not be with you at all times, but that's alright. Here is her character sheet for you to take in. You can have any kind of relationship with Tessa, and I'm open to discussing any kind of setup you want, if at all. Some of the player characters will already have met Tessa due to already having her as Mentor. If you want to, you can mention this in your character sheet Relations, but it's not a requirement at all.

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N A M E
Tessa Vellhart
C O D E N A M E
Aion
R A C E  +  G E N D E R
Mystic Female
S E X U A L I T Y
Lesbian
A G E  +  H E I G H T  +  W E I G H T
23 + 170cm + 60kg
P R O F E S S O R  -  S T U D E N T
Mentor + Theatre & Art
P E T
Cait named 'Lyra'
S O U N D T R A C K
♫ ♫ ♫
◈ A p p e a r a n c e ◈ 

Tessa is an unmissable figure, lighting up any room with her radiant appearance. Her skin, smooth and pure as porcelain, shines as if kissed by the moon's glow. It creates an almost ethereal beauty that contrasts sharply with the lively energy she possesses. Her naturally pale blonde hair acts as a dramatic backdrop to the vivid mix of hot pink and turquoise streaks she often sports. Her hair color changes frequently, each new hue as daring and unique as she is, mirrored by her nails painted in the same vibrant shades.

Tessa's fashion choices are an echo of three Lekëon brands: Nivalis's bold flair, Aurum Astra's unmistakable glamour, and Elara Lyra's modern chic. Her wardrobe is a gallery of adventurous prints, innovative cuts, and luxurious materials, defying traditional norms in favor of the extraordinary. She might be seen in a flowing silk blouse from Nivalis, covered with daring prints and paired with a sharply tailored leather skirt -- a dramatic mix of softness and edge. Alternatively, she might appear in a brocade and lace cocktail dress from Aurum Astra that amplifies her sensual aura. On some days, she embodies Elara Lyra's futuristic minimalism, wearing sleek, single-color outfits that subtly suggest a world of opulence.

Her footwear collection runs the gamut from towering stilettos to polished boots, anchoring her outfits and providing a solid base for her vibrant sartorial statements. These shoes are not mere accessories -- they are a declaration of her presence and a showcase of her confidence. Adding the final touches to her outfits are her varied accessories: a collection of metals, precious stones, and unique pieces that enhance her overall aesthetic. From the jeweled chokers around her slender neck to the statement rings on her painted fingers, and the extravagant earrings adorning her ears.

At her core, Tessa is a vibrant mix of striking colors and high fashion, embodying a fearless celebration of uniqueness. Her presence commands attention, not just because of her roles as a mentor and future professor, but also as a trendsetter and an exemplar of nontraditional beauty. She is as captivating as a dazzling light show in the night sky, drawing eyes and admiration wherever she goes. Just as the northern lights bring beauty to the coldest, darkest nights, Tessa brings a unique allure and enchantment to every situation, whether it is in the academy or out in the wider world of Lekë. Her ability to combine her professional role with her personal style creates a compelling and charismatic persona that is hard to ignore.


◈ P e r s o n a l i t y ◈
Talkative ◈ Nurturing ◈ Sensual ◈ Stoic ◈ Abstruse

Tessa Vellhart has a way with words that makes people stop and listen. She is talkative, always full of ideas and thoughts that flow out of her like a river. Her conversational style, though intense at times, is filled with an infectious enthusiasm that lights up the corridors of Harold's Academy and makes every exchange lively and interesting. She is also incredibly nurturing. Her deep care and concern for those around her is as vast as the ocean below. She is like a protective guardian, patient and understanding, viewing every student as a unique individual who just needs the right guidance to shine. Through the challenges of academic life and the ups and downs of adolescence, Tessa is a stable presence, her kindness a safe haven for many.

When you talk about Tessa, you cannot help but mention her sensual nature. She seems to be in sync with the life around her, moving and reacting in ways that feel connected to a deeper energy. Her vibrant and energetic presence is a reflection of her joy for life and invites others to appreciate every moment.

Despite her vibrant and expressive nature, Tessa is also stoic. Amidst life's chaos, she stands as a rock, showing a resilient and unwavering spirit that serves as both inspiration and support. Her steady strength offers a source of stability to her mentees as they navigate their academic paths. But Tessa is not all open and transparent. She has an abstruse side that wraps her in a layer of mystery. She is like a book waiting to be read, a complex puzzle that draws people in, eager to understand. Her multifaceted personality is a maze to navigate, with every twist and turn revealing something new and unexpected.

Tessa is a dynamic blend of opposing traits, creating a complex yet fascinating image of a woman who is as diverse as the students she mentors. Her dedication to her role, her caring nature, and the air of mystery that surrounds her come together to form a character who is as intriguing as she is loved.

◈ H i s t o r y ◈

Tessa Vellhart was born into a staunchly traditional family. The stoic countenance of her father and the rigid enforcement of feminine decorum by her mother formed the bedrock of her early life. There was little space for individuality and self-expression within the stark lines of their household.

From a young age, Tessa was captivated by the swirling world of fashion. The hush of silk, the symphony of patterns, and the grandeur of colors held a deep fascination for her. Her mother, however, was skeptical about this interest, viewing it as a frivolous indulgence, potentially a smudge on their family's stringent reputation. This discordance between Tessa's inherent creative flare and her family's conservative outlook tinged her childhood with a sense of quiet longing.

A dramatic twist arrived in Tessa's life when her gift made itself known. She discovered her ability to slow down time, a feat so profound that it made her appear to move from one place to another almost instantaneously. It was an astounding revelation for her parents, one that they initially struggled to comprehend. Once they managed to move past their surprise, they realized the implications. Their daughter was a Mystic, and all Mystics were required to attend Harold's Academy. For Tessa, this was a welcome departure from her family's confining grasp and an opportunity to explore her exceptional abilities further.

Upon her entry to Harold's Academy, Tessa was magnetically drawn to the vivid world of Theater and Art. These disciplines offered her a reservoir of creative opportunities, and she dove headfirst into their depths. The emotive artistry of theater and the visual poetry of art captivated her, setting her on a path of intellectual pursuit. She envisioned herself as a professor in these fields, guiding future generations through the maze of creativity and imagination.

Tessa's life has been a journey of metamorphosis and perseverance. Born into a world of restrictive norms, she has emerged as a beacon of individuality and creative passion. Today, she is an integral part of the Harold's Academy, celebrated for her vibrant personality, and admired for her deep commitment to the subjects of Theater and Art. Her story continues to unfold, as she explores the boundaries of her mystical abilities and strides forward on her path to becoming an exceptional mentor and inspiring professor.


◈ M y s t i c   C l a s s i f i c a t i o n ◈
Astra

◈ G i f t ◈
Deceleration

◈ M y s t i c   C o d e ◈
Tessa can slow down the course of time for herself and others. This allows her to move and think normally while the outside world is decelerated to various degrees depending on focus and effort. Clothes and other objects that Tessa is in contact with function normally during the effect. This is also true for those to whom Tessa extends the effect.

◈ L i m i t a t i o n s   a n d   W e a k n e s s e s ◈
Tessa cannot stop the course of time entirely. At times, with enough focus and effort, she could potentially slow it down to the brink of a halt. The more individuals that the effect is extended to, the more effort is required by Tessa. The duration and potency of the effect will also be affected by the number of individuals she included. There is also a limited area of effect, which is not always obvious to Tessa herself -- the less she knows about the environment, the smaller the area of effect will be. There might be physical consequences of too much use of this gift. Tessa is unsure if it affects her natural aging process or the aging process of anyone she extends the effect to.


_{^{N A M E}} ^{Tessa Vellhart} _{^{C O D E N A M E}} ^Aion _{^{R A C E + G E N D E R}} ^{Mystic Female} _{^{S E X U A L I T Y}} ^Lesbian _{^{A G E + H E I G H T + W E I G H T}} ^{23 + 170cm + 60kg} _{^{P R O F E S S O R - S T U D E N T}} ^{Mentor + Theatre & Art} _{^{P E T}} ^{Cait named 'Lyra'} _{^{S O U N D T R A C K}} ^{♫ ♫ ♫}

In Harold's Academy for the Magically Inclined → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Crimson Flame@Emeth@Silver Carrot

There might be options on ArtStation. They have different sections, but I've linked Anime & Manga and Character Design here. In the lower right corner of the site, you've got a little tool for choosing 2d/3d and other settings.

artstation.com/channels/anime_manga?s…
artstation.com/channels/character_des…

In OBLIVION → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

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﹂	Hanna's mind wove a dream and bizarre reverie of ethereal enchantment in her darkened state. In the vision, she sat by the foot of an imposing, monolithic tree with branches reaching far and wide. Its emerald leaves shimmered in the radiance of two suns sharing the sky above. The roots of the tree, gnarled and knotted, burrowed deep into the nourishing bosom of Mother Earth. An array of forest creatures and critters surrounded Hanna where she sat. The animals consisted of everything from noble stags to nimble squirrels, their eyes dotted with the same hue as the leaves of the tree. Curiously, Hanna observed the verdant growth of minute leaves budding on her skin, roots creeping, twining about her in a tender embrace. Her body had transformed into a living tapestry of flora, each leaf, each root, a brushstroke in this work of art. As she reached out to touch the bark of the tree, her dream dissolved, evanescing like a morning mist kissed by the dawn.

﹂	Hanna's senses began to stir awake. She was roused by the echo of her name, like a lighthouse beacon cutting through the fog. The words were distorted, a cryptic chorus of muffled sound that came and went like waves breaking against the shore. Her lips parted and from the depths of her muddled consciousness and dusty demeanor came comforting words. “I'm here... not dead.” Her presence had found its way out into the open air again, an eddy of defiance in the stagnant silence of her mind, answering Anni's worry. She wore a new guise, no longer the impeccably put-together picture of fashion that she was earlier. Her clothes hung from her body in tatters, as if stolen from some vagabond's worn-out wardrobe. The artwork of cosmetics she had meticulously painted on her face now resembled a child's frantic finger painting, the colors smeared and melded into one chaotic tableau. “Fuuuuck, I feel that.” Hanna grumbled, her gaze falling on her lower leg. It bore the brutal evidence of their ordeal, the skin torn and flecked with droplets of drying blood. She winced at the sight, instinctively covering the area with her hand. Strangely, like an enigmatic magician's trick, the pain receded to an echo, manageable and distant. “Never mind, I'm good.” She murmured, a grin of relief playing on her lips as she finally opened her eyes to see the utter devastation around her.

﹂	It was a scene so surreal, it teetered on the edge of lunacy that mocked the confines of logic and reason. Hanna felt herself adrift in a sea of disjointed memories, flashes of 'before' tumbling like leaves caught in a storm. But it was the sight of her friends that anchored her to the 'now'. Ivy and Anni were there, their presence an unspoken testament to their resilience. Hanna was delighted to see them both, especially Ivy. The assertive tone of Jack's voice echoed like a comforting melody close by. Lucas and CJ were missing from her line of sight, their absence gnawing at her, but optimism, like a buoy in turbulent waters, reassured her -- they had to have made it too. Pushing against the ground, Hanna tried to stand, only to crumble back down as her leg sent waves of protest, the pain ricocheting through her like a stray bullet. “Fuck dude! What the fuck is this shit?! Are you going to hurt or not?!” She growled at her traitorous limb. Laying on the exaggerated theatrics, she sniffled pathetically and turned her woebegone expression towards Ivy. “Mommy, I can't get up -- pleeease.” She whined, her hands reaching out towards Ivy, their chipped nails fluttering like the wings of a wounded bird.

﹂	If Ivy or any other self-appointed savior would step up to the challenge, an unexpected metamorphosis would begin to unfurl at the very instance their skin made contact with Hanna's. It would be puzzling energy, eliciting a silent symphony of remedy that would dissipate all traces of pain like smoke in the wind. It would be akin to the phenomenon Hanna had experienced earlier with her wounded leg. Not only would it alleviate physical discomfort, but it would also unleash a wave of euphoria flowing through their veins like a benevolent trespasser. It would be akin to the intoxicating allure of morphine, a soothing balm that would numb the residual sting of emotional confusion and panic, a slow and comforting sensation spreading throughout their frame. The exact manifestation of this sensory symphony would be a little different for each person. But regardless of the variations in individual response, the immediate and profound effect would be indisputable. It would be a sensation that, once experienced, would be as distinct and familiar as their own heartbeat. It would leave them caught in the liminal space between disbelief and acceptance within mere seconds of their touch with Hanna.

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█     #1.02 CAUGHT IN THE CLUTCHES
Skyline Dreaming
ritman high [football field]
interacting with: Anni/@Kuro Ivy/@CaliforniaState
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_{﹂ Hanna's mind wove a dream and bizarre reverie of ethereal enchantment in her darkened state. In the vision, she sat by the foot of an imposing, monolithic tree with branches reaching far and wide. Its emerald leaves shimmered in the radiance of two suns sharing the sky above. The roots of the tree, gnarled and knotted, burrowed deep into the nourishing bosom of Mother Earth. An array of forest creatures and critters surrounded Hanna where she sat. The animals consisted of everything from noble stags to nimble squirrels, their eyes dotted with the same hue as the leaves of the tree. Curiously, Hanna observed the verdant growth of minute leaves budding on her skin, roots creeping, twining about her in a tender embrace. Her body had transformed into a living tapestry of flora, each leaf, each root, a brushstroke in this work of art. As she reached out to touch the bark of the tree, her dream dissolved, evanescing like a morning mist kissed by the dawn. ﹂ Hanna's senses began to stir awake. She was roused by the echo of her name, like a lighthouse beacon cutting through the fog. The words were distorted, a cryptic chorus of muffled sound that came and went like waves breaking against the shore. Her lips parted and from the depths of her muddled consciousness and dusty demeanor came comforting words. “I'm here... not dead.” Her presence had found its way out into the open air again, an eddy of defiance in the stagnant silence of her mind, answering Anni's worry. She wore a new guise, no longer the impeccably put-together picture of fashion that she was earlier. Her clothes hung from her body in tatters, as if stolen from some vagabond's worn-out wardrobe. The artwork of cosmetics she had meticulously painted on her face now resembled a child's frantic finger painting, the colors smeared and melded into one chaotic tableau. “Fuuuuck, I feel that.” Hanna grumbled, her gaze falling on her lower leg. It bore the brutal evidence of their ordeal, the skin torn and flecked with droplets of drying blood. She winced at the sight, instinctively covering the area with her hand. Strangely, like an enigmatic magician's trick, the pain receded to an echo, manageable and distant. “Never mind, I'm good.” She murmured, a grin of relief playing on her lips as she finally opened her eyes to see the utter devastation around her. ﹂ It was a scene so surreal, it teetered on the edge of lunacy that mocked the confines of logic and reason. Hanna felt herself adrift in a sea of disjointed memories, flashes of 'before' tumbling like leaves caught in a storm. But it was the sight of her friends that anchored her to the 'now'. Ivy and Anni were there, their presence an unspoken testament to their resilience. Hanna was delighted to see them both, especially Ivy. The assertive tone of Jack's voice echoed like a comforting melody close by. Lucas and CJ were missing from her line of sight, their absence gnawing at her, but optimism, like a buoy in turbulent waters, reassured her -- they had to have made it too. Pushing against the ground, Hanna tried to stand, only to crumble back down as her leg sent waves of protest, the pain ricocheting through her like a stray bullet. “Fuck dude! What the fuck is this shit?! Are you going to hurt or not?!” She growled at her traitorous limb. Laying on the exaggerated theatrics, she sniffled pathetically and turned her woebegone expression towards Ivy. “Mommy, I can't get up -- pleeease.” She whined, her hands reaching out towards Ivy, their chipped nails fluttering like the wings of a wounded bird. ﹂ If Ivy or any other self-appointed savior would step up to the challenge, an unexpected metamorphosis would begin to unfurl at the very instance their skin made contact with Hanna's. It would be puzzling energy, eliciting a silent symphony of remedy that would dissipate all traces of pain like smoke in the wind. It would be akin to the phenomenon Hanna had experienced earlier with her wounded leg. Not only would it alleviate physical discomfort, but it would also unleash a wave of euphoria flowing through their veins like a benevolent trespasser. It would be akin to the intoxicating allure of morphine, a soothing balm that would numb the residual sting of emotional confusion and panic, a slow and comforting sensation spreading throughout their frame. The exact manifestation of this sensory symphony would be a little different for each person. But regardless of the variations in individual response, the immediate and profound effect would be indisputable. It would be a sensation that, once experienced, would be as distinct and familiar as their own heartbeat. It would leave them caught in the liminal space between disbelief and acceptance within mere seconds of their touch with Hanna.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.02 CAUGHT IN THE CLUTCHES Skyline Dreaming} ^{ritman high [football field] interacting with: Anni/@Kuro Ivy/@CaliforniaState} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

In Harold's Academy for the Magically Inclined → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks

Great to see that you are back on your feet @Aeolian. Very impressive return. Keeping an eye on this for sure! :)

In OBLIVION → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

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Caught between the intoxicating effects of the alcohol she had consumed and the capricious symphony of the girl trio's moods, Hanna felt akin to a marionette with her strings cut. Reality seemed to be dipped in a coat of the surreal, the ground beneath her adopting the comfortingly treacherous texture of quicksand. Her navigation through this labyrinth was eased, however, by Ivy's constant stream of chatter that anchored the purpose of their visit to Ritman Field. A blush of rosy hue painted Hanna's cheeks at Ivy's quip about the 'bureaucratic circle', the absurdity of a literal interpretation of the phrase provoking a hidden mirth within her. But her response was a mute one, a grin of shared amusement and a suppressed chuckle.

A soft “Hey--” escaped Hanna's lips in response to the 'hate mail' comment. It was ludicrous and yet not entirely unfathomable. The memory of a crowd from her past, their faces twisted in annoyance, flashed before her — Anni's was among them. Her thoughts were abruptly scattered when Ivy's sudden clapping resonated through the field. Hanna recoiled as if subjected to a shock of electricity, a gasped “Jesus--” marking her surprise. Anticipation sparkled in her eyes, though. The grand unveiling of their shared past was nigh. Her fingers mimed drumming in the air, her voice attempted a dramatic drumroll, only to botch the sound effect with an ill-timed “Ba-Dum-Tss!”. Her humor was soon to be muted, though, as Ivy's countenance morphed into one of disappointment. A shiver of concern ran through her as she echoed Ivy's bewilderment, her eyes falling upon the empty capsule.

Hanna's jubilant smile faded into a frown of concern. She was familiar with Ivy's propensity to take setbacks to heart, especially when the setback concerned something close to her. But this was not the right setting for their usual comforting routine. The alcohol coursing through her veins made her overly empathetic, tuning her into the poignant waves of emotions emanating from Ivy. It was a challenging moment, one they would eventually navigate past as they always did. Hanna moved to Ivy's side, her fingers gently catching a stray tear on Ivy's cheek. “We probably just got another class's capsule. It's not the end of the world. We'll just get the right one tomorrow and do this again.” Her words of comfort hovered in the air, but Ivy's attention was arrested by the book and the singular ominous word it bore: Oblivion.

What ensued was a display of the uncanny that Hanna initially attributed to the alcohol playing tricks on her. The letters from the book seemed to take on a life of their own, springing toward Ivy like predators on their prey. A gasped exclamation ripped through Hanna's throat -- “What the fuck!” -- her grip on Ivy slackened as she recoiled from the spectacle. Then, chaos ensued. It felt like the earth beneath was rebelling, its surface convulsing as if caught in an earthquake or a whirlwind. As Ivy succumbed to a strange transformation, Hanna could not help but wonder if their drinks had been spiked with something more potent. She barely had time to register her thoughts before an explosion of sorts swallowed them, plunging everything into darkness. Hanna was thrown into a chasm of unconsciousness.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
すてきな
p. johnson's ▸ ritman high football field
interacting with: Ivy/@CaliforniaState
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_{Caught between the intoxicating effects of the alcohol she had consumed and the capricious symphony of the girl trio's moods, Hanna felt akin to a marionette with her strings cut. Reality seemed to be dipped in a coat of the surreal, the ground beneath her adopting the comfortingly treacherous texture of quicksand. Her navigation through this labyrinth was eased, however, by Ivy's constant stream of chatter that anchored the purpose of their visit to Ritman Field. A blush of rosy hue painted Hanna's cheeks at Ivy's quip about the 'bureaucratic circle', the absurdity of a literal interpretation of the phrase provoking a hidden mirth within her. But her response was a mute one, a grin of shared amusement and a suppressed chuckle. A soft “Hey--” escaped Hanna's lips in response to the 'hate mail' comment. It was ludicrous and yet not entirely unfathomable. The memory of a crowd from her past, their faces twisted in annoyance, flashed before her — Anni's was among them. Her thoughts were abruptly scattered when Ivy's sudden clapping resonated through the field. Hanna recoiled as if subjected to a shock of electricity, a gasped “Jesus--” marking her surprise. Anticipation sparkled in her eyes, though. The grand unveiling of their shared past was nigh. Her fingers mimed drumming in the air, her voice attempted a dramatic drumroll, only to botch the sound effect with an ill-timed “Ba-Dum-Tss!”. Her humor was soon to be muted, though, as Ivy's countenance morphed into one of disappointment. A shiver of concern ran through her as she echoed Ivy's bewilderment, her eyes falling upon the empty capsule. Hanna's jubilant smile faded into a frown of concern. She was familiar with Ivy's propensity to take setbacks to heart, especially when the setback concerned something close to her. But this was not the right setting for their usual comforting routine. The alcohol coursing through her veins made her overly empathetic, tuning her into the poignant waves of emotions emanating from Ivy. It was a challenging moment, one they would eventually navigate past as they always did. Hanna moved to Ivy's side, her fingers gently catching a stray tear on Ivy's cheek. “We probably just got another class's capsule. It's not the end of the world. We'll just get the right one tomorrow and do this again.” Her words of comfort hovered in the air, but Ivy's attention was arrested by the book and the singular ominous word it bore: Oblivion. What ensued was a display of the uncanny that Hanna initially attributed to the alcohol playing tricks on her. The letters from the book seemed to take on a life of their own, springing toward Ivy like predators on their prey. A gasped exclamation ripped through Hanna's throat -- “What the fuck!” -- her grip on Ivy slackened as she recoiled from the spectacle. Then, chaos ensued. It felt like the earth beneath was rebelling, its surface convulsing as if caught in an earthquake or a whirlwind. As Ivy succumbed to a strange transformation, Hanna could not help but wonder if their drinks had been spiked with something more potent. She barely had time to register her thoughts before an explosion of sorts swallowed them, plunging everything into darkness. Hanna was thrown into a chasm of unconsciousness.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO すてきな} ^{p. johnson's ▸ ritman high football field interacting with: Ivy/@CaliforniaState} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

In OBLIVION → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

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“AAAHHH!” A cascade of ecstatic sound, more akin to an orchestral crescendo than a scream, burst from Hanna's lungs. It was a siren's call of pure, unfettered bliss that echoed around the room at the prospect of carpooling. “What do you mean 'not exciting'?!” she rebuked, eyes shining brighter than a supernova. “This is the best thing ever so far!” She chimed in unison with the pulsating music in the background. Hanna's hands came together, a blur of motion, palms meeting in a series of rapid-fire claps interspersed with peculiar smudging motions as though she were sculpting the very joy in the air.

Hanna giggled all the way to the car. Each sound escaping her presence formed a melody of disproportionate exhilaration. Like an eager child on Christmas morning, she flitted along, her footfalls punctuating the evening with their rhythmic beat, arm in arm with Ivy. Every so often, Hanna's head glanced over her shoulder, eyes darting to ensure nobody was left behind. It was an odd paranoia, one borne of alcohol's whispering shadows, that saw her vigilantly guarding her flock like a shepherdess guiding her bleating charges to safer pastures. “Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun,” Hanna chanted, her voice a wind chime caught in a playful breeze. The phrase became a mantra, the soundtrack to her impromptu sprint toward the car. It was the prize at the end of her dash -- the passenger seat door was her golden ticket, and she was the excited kid ready to claim her ride in the chocolate factory.

As the car approached the familiar school grounds, Hanna was confronted by an onslaught of memories that flooded her consciousness, much like an unexpected tidal wave crashing onto a tranquil beach. The familiarity of the school grounds invoked a nostalgia that held both the sweet melancholy of a sepia-toned photograph and the sharp sting of an old wound infected with cringe -- much like a horror movie that one watches between split fingers. Her deep-sea dive into the fathomless depths of her memory was abruptly halted by Ivy's call to motion.

“Come on, guys, let's go!” Hanna's voice shrieked through the confined space of the vehicle, akin to an air raid siren wailing through the echoing canyons of a deserted city, its intensity amplified by the alcohol she had imbibed earlier. Stepping out of the car, the short saunter to the heart of the football field was a temporal paradox, an uncanny experience that felt both as fleeting as a butterfly's flight and as enduring as a solar eclipse. Hanna's world spun on its axis, not quite a vertiginous whirl, but enough to keep her unsteady. A straight path was navigable as long as Ivy remained her sturdy companion, arms together. As Ivy, the dusky Aphrodite, prepared to address their small party, Hanna raised a cautioning finger to her lips. She released a drawn-out shush, her exaggerated theatricality rendering her as comical as a mime performing in the park. An impish grin danced upon her face, one that mimicked the vacant euphoria of a marionette, oblivious to the strings that pulled her along.

As inevitable as the rising sun, Hanna's emotional dam splintered at the height of Ivy's heartfelt soliloquy. Tears, the shimmering ambassadors of her overwhelming sentiment, welled up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over in a deluge of raw emotion. Her hands fluttered before her face, a futile dance of denial akin to a hummingbird's vain attempt to repel an impending storm. It was the raw sincerity and unadulterated authenticity in Ivy's delivery that truly unraveled Hanna's emotional composure. Yet, guilt played its part too, a gnawing sense of shared responsibility for any hiccups during their tenure at Ritman that haunted her like an inescapable specter.

“Lucas is right,” Hanna concurred, her voice shaking like an autumn leaf caught in crosswinds. Her words bore the weight of unwavering conviction. “It's not your fault, babe. It was the school and its bureaucratic circus that failed us.” Amidst her cathartic release, Hanna sought to regain her composure. With the grace of an eraser wiping clean a chalk-smeared board, she brushed away the errant tears that had streaked down her cheeks. These were the tears that had broken free from the confines of her glistening eyes, brave explorers charting a course down the contours of her face.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
すてきな
p. johnson's ▸ ritman high football field
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde Lucas/@Mao Mao
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_{“AAAHHH!” A cascade of ecstatic sound, more akin to an orchestral crescendo than a scream, burst from Hanna's lungs. It was a siren's call of pure, unfettered bliss that echoed around the room at the prospect of carpooling. “What do you mean 'not exciting'?!” she rebuked, eyes shining brighter than a supernova. “This is the best thing ever so far!” She chimed in unison with the pulsating music in the background. Hanna's hands came together, a blur of motion, palms meeting in a series of rapid-fire claps interspersed with peculiar smudging motions as though she were sculpting the very joy in the air. Hanna giggled all the way to the car. Each sound escaping her presence formed a melody of disproportionate exhilaration. Like an eager child on Christmas morning, she flitted along, her footfalls punctuating the evening with their rhythmic beat, arm in arm with Ivy. Every so often, Hanna's head glanced over her shoulder, eyes darting to ensure nobody was left behind. It was an odd paranoia, one borne of alcohol's whispering shadows, that saw her vigilantly guarding her flock like a shepherdess guiding her bleating charges to safer pastures. “Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun,” Hanna chanted, her voice a wind chime caught in a playful breeze. The phrase became a mantra, the soundtrack to her impromptu sprint toward the car. It was the prize at the end of her dash -- the passenger seat door was her golden ticket, and she was the excited kid ready to claim her ride in the chocolate factory. As the car approached the familiar school grounds, Hanna was confronted by an onslaught of memories that flooded her consciousness, much like an unexpected tidal wave crashing onto a tranquil beach. The familiarity of the school grounds invoked a nostalgia that held both the sweet melancholy of a sepia-toned photograph and the sharp sting of an old wound infected with cringe -- much like a horror movie that one watches between split fingers. Her deep-sea dive into the fathomless depths of her memory was abruptly halted by Ivy's call to motion. “Come on, guys, let's go!” Hanna's voice shrieked through the confined space of the vehicle, akin to an air raid siren wailing through the echoing canyons of a deserted city, its intensity amplified by the alcohol she had imbibed earlier. Stepping out of the car, the short saunter to the heart of the football field was a temporal paradox, an uncanny experience that felt both as fleeting as a butterfly's flight and as enduring as a solar eclipse. Hanna's world spun on its axis, not quite a vertiginous whirl, but enough to keep her unsteady. A straight path was navigable as long as Ivy remained her sturdy companion, arms together. As Ivy, the dusky Aphrodite, prepared to address their small party, Hanna raised a cautioning finger to her lips. She released a drawn-out shush, her exaggerated theatricality rendering her as comical as a mime performing in the park. An impish grin danced upon her face, one that mimicked the vacant euphoria of a marionette, oblivious to the strings that pulled her along. As inevitable as the rising sun, Hanna's emotional dam splintered at the height of Ivy's heartfelt soliloquy. Tears, the shimmering ambassadors of her overwhelming sentiment, welled up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over in a deluge of raw emotion. Her hands fluttered before her face, a futile dance of denial akin to a hummingbird's vain attempt to repel an impending storm. It was the raw sincerity and unadulterated authenticity in Ivy's delivery that truly unraveled Hanna's emotional composure. Yet, guilt played its part too, a gnawing sense of shared responsibility for any hiccups during their tenure at Ritman that haunted her like an inescapable specter. “Lucas is right,” Hanna concurred, her voice shaking like an autumn leaf caught in crosswinds. Her words bore the weight of unwavering conviction. “It's not your fault, babe. It was the school and its bureaucratic circus that failed us.” Amidst her cathartic release, Hanna sought to regain her composure. With the grace of an eraser wiping clean a chalk-smeared board, she brushed away the errant tears that had streaked down her cheeks. These were the tears that had broken free from the confines of her glistening eyes, brave explorers charting a course down the contours of her face.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO すてきな} ^{p. johnson's ▸ ritman high football field interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde Lucas/@Mao Mao} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

In OBLIVION → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

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Hanna was definitely Harley Quinn to Ivy's Poison. The thought had never entered her occasionally chaotic head before, but it made perfect sense and was quite witty. On that note, their old High School embers had without doubt ignited again. Hanna was infinitely grateful that their reunion had been so smooth and superfast. She locked arms with the mellow beauty as they scuttled towards the bar. “We'd make awesome villains in the new Batman movies with Twilight-guy as the Batman. Have you seen it, the latest one? Fuuuuck, it's sooo good,” Hanna gushed at the memory of said film. 

The gals had already arrived at the bar by the end of Hanna's chatter. The bartender that had recognized her earlier just finished up with another customer, then pointed at the drink that Hanna had ordered before going into the bathroom. “Oh sweet Vodka and orange juice, how I love you so.” Hanna lightly giggled as she took the first sip of the drink through a black straw. “Anyway, you think he was hot in Twilight? Holy shit is he giga-hot as the new Batman. He's, like, the finest piece of socially awkward brooding INCEL you could ask for.” Hanna started to crack herself up at the word 'incel' and built a crescendo of hyena cackling towards the end of the sentence. The internet and the Chat had found its perfect bridge into the real world through Hanna. “Fuck, sorry,” she tried to say through loss of breath and strained laughing chimes, putting her drink down on the bar counter and covering her mouth with the other hand. “That word is so fucking funny--” she managed to say just at the base of catching a panicky inhalation. “INCEL--holy shit!” The words barely made sense before Hanna burst into uncontrollably violent laughter again.

The bartender simply stood there and stared at them while Hanna clung onto Ivy so as to not fall. It was embarrassing and funny all at the same time. Some random people around them sort of smirked at Hanna's laughter, but they really had no idea what had been said that was so funny. The others at the Ritman table would probably be able to hear Hanna's shrieking noises, unless they were busy trying to kill each other. Hanna sincerely tried to stop, however. She forced herself to take deep breaths and interrupt the laughter while minding her teary eyes, so as to not ruin the paint.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
Wii
p. johnson's [restrooms] ▸ p. johnson's [bar]
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde
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_{Hanna was definitely Harley Quinn to Ivy's Poison. The thought had never entered her occasionally chaotic head before, but it made perfect sense and was quite witty. On that note, their old High School embers had without doubt ignited again. Hanna was infinitely grateful that their reunion had been so smooth and superfast. She locked arms with the mellow beauty as they scuttled towards the bar. “We'd make awesome villains in the new Batman movies with Twilight-guy as the Batman. Have you seen it, the latest one? Fuuuuck, it's sooo good,” Hanna gushed at the memory of said film. The gals had already arrived at the bar by the end of Hanna's chatter. The bartender that had recognized her earlier just finished up with another customer, then pointed at the drink that Hanna had ordered before going into the bathroom. “Oh sweet Vodka and orange juice, how I love you so.” Hanna lightly giggled as she took the first sip of the drink through a black straw. “Anyway, you think he was hot in Twilight? Holy shit is he giga-hot as the new Batman. He's, like, the finest piece of socially awkward brooding INCEL you could ask for.” Hanna started to crack herself up at the word 'incel' and built a crescendo of hyena cackling towards the end of the sentence. The internet and the Chat had found its perfect bridge into the real world through Hanna. “Fuck, sorry,” she tried to say through loss of breath and strained laughing chimes, putting her drink down on the bar counter and covering her mouth with the other hand. “That word is so fucking funny--” she managed to say just at the base of catching a panicky inhalation. “INCEL--holy shit!” The words barely made sense before Hanna burst into uncontrollably violent laughter again. The bartender simply stood there and stared at them while Hanna clung onto Ivy so as to not fall. It was embarrassing and funny all at the same time. Some random people around them sort of smirked at Hanna's laughter, but they really had no idea what had been said that was so funny. The others at the Ritman table would probably be able to hear Hanna's shrieking noises, unless they were busy trying to kill each other. Hanna sincerely tried to stop, however. She forced herself to take deep breaths and interrupt the laughter while minding her teary eyes, so as to not ruin the paint.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO Wii} ^{p. johnson's [restrooms] ▸ p. johnson's [bar] interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

In OBLIVION → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

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Ivy's visage dipped a tad every now and then as she spoke. Hanna gently put her pinky finger underneath the gal's chin each time to readjust into the awful light in the bathroom. Ivory's musings were a lot more profound or perhaps self-aware than they used to be. She did tumble down into these criticisms of herself back at Ritman, as well, but not to this extent. Hanna's eyes occasionally sailed between focus on the craft and Ivy's eyes, whenever things dipped into ranting. "Being a bit harsh on yourself there, babe," Hanna thought, but she did not say anything. Letting out steam was the best thing that could happen right now. There was no way that Hanna could manage the whole team by herself if Ivy was going to carry thins kind of shit around on her shoulders -- Hanna needed Ivy just as much as Ivy needed Hanna.

“Hey... don't be like that. You didn't fail anyone back then--” Hanna briefly stopped what she was doing, resting her arms by her sides. “Do you even know the kind of 'light in the darkness' that you were to some people? No, you don't, because those kinds of people never talk about it directly to the person, but they spoke to me and I know--” Hanna's voice became slightly strained, almost annoyed, but she brushed it off and continued with the cosmetics. “You were such an inspiration to so many people, babe. You really have to take that in when I say it--” Hanna interrupted herself mid-sentence again: “--and don't even get me started on 'helping' people. Most people don't want any fucking help, seriously. That's, like, THE one thing I've learned from having to deal with these fashion types in NYC. They're so far up their own asses with ego and problems that they're not looking for solutions, they thrive on that shit. And if you think I talk a lot, these motherfuckers literally talk non-stop. Can you imagine that? Someone that talks more than me? That's how bad it is. And then there's the complete opposite, the zombies. They never talk and never listen, so you can't help them either. So, you have to be happy in your own boat and just keep sailing the way you want to, first. And then, after a while, these people will open up to you because you are a sense of comfort, and BOOM -- they're all of a sudden open to anything you have to say. Besides, everybody out there knew full well who could possibly show up tonight, but they came anyway.” They concluded their little back and forth, and then remained silent for just a brief moment as Hanna did her thing.

“There she is -- Poison Ivy herself.” Hanna cracked a genuine smirk at the calories jab. It was fairly easy to tell the difference between Hanna's real and 'fake' smiles. Or, well, calling them 'fake' did not do it justice. They were just trained in the same way that all media types train certain facial expressions to make it look good for camera. If Hanna's upper lip was folded outwards with a full, straight row of upper teeth showing, then it was a 'fake' smile. A genuine expression was less symmetrical, upper lip folded inward, and with more pronounced smile dimples in the cheeks.

And then, there was a little something-something that happened in the beaut before her. It was subtle, no verbal indication, but the eyes spoke to such volumes that it could flood P. Johnson's ten times over. It was completely alien to Hanna and had never happened during their years at Ritman together. Hanna's facial expression sort of instantly relaxed to a default state, although raising both eyebrows to their absolute peak, stopping all movements. “Oh, weak in the knees are we?” Hanna said with pure instinct, no filtering inside her head at all, but following it all up by relaxing her frame, continuing with the cosmetics, and throwing a sensual smile in there to tease Ivy. “I can smudge lipsticks all night long, you know that.” Hanna had been quite transparent with her own sexuality even back then, but it had also never been a huge thing for her or super central to her identity -- it was just a natural thing, and that was the end of it. "Holy shit, you are so fucking cringe. You shouldn't have said the 'make out' part in the first place, dumb ass bitch." Her mind scolded itself.

“Yup, all done!” Hanna said with a chipper tone, proud of her glowing work on Ivy's face. “I'd like to thank the Academy for this amazing award--” Hanna fired up with a silly voice. “For me--”, flamboyantly putting both hands on her chest, gazing at the non-existent horizon, sporting the fakest smile she could muster, “--Hanna Whittle, who, unlike miss Williams here, actually knows how to use basic paint and colors--” she continued by poking fun at cosmetics in general and sarcastically implying that Ivy had no clue how to properly use it. “Thank you so much,” she concluded with a faint sniffling sound, holding a ghostly award in her hands, throwing kisses from her hands into the void of some imaginary crowd. Hanna must have come off as batshit insane to any stranger walking in, but it would hopefully relax Ivy a little bit before getting back into the fray.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
すてきな
p. johnson's [restrooms]
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde
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_{Ivy's visage dipped a tad every now and then as she spoke. Hanna gently put her pinky finger underneath the gal's chin each time to readjust into the awful light in the bathroom. Ivory's musings were a lot more profound or perhaps self-aware than they used to be. She did tumble down into these criticisms of herself back at Ritman, as well, but not to this extent. Hanna's eyes occasionally sailed between focus on the craft and Ivy's eyes, whenever things dipped into ranting. "Being a bit harsh on yourself there, babe," Hanna thought, but she did not say anything. Letting out steam was the best thing that could happen right now. There was no way that Hanna could manage the whole team by herself if Ivy was going to carry thins kind of shit around on her shoulders -- Hanna needed Ivy just as much as Ivy needed Hanna. “Hey... don't be like that. You didn't fail anyone back then--” Hanna briefly stopped what she was doing, resting her arms by her sides. “Do you even know the kind of 'light in the darkness' that you were to some people? No, you don't, because those kinds of people never talk about it directly to the person, but they spoke to me and I know--” Hanna's voice became slightly strained, almost annoyed, but she brushed it off and continued with the cosmetics. “You were such an inspiration to so many people, babe. You really have to take that in when I say it--” Hanna interrupted herself mid-sentence again: “--and don't even get me started on 'helping' people. Most people don't want any fucking help, seriously. That's, like, THE one thing I've learned from having to deal with these fashion types in NYC. They're so far up their own asses with ego and problems that they're not looking for solutions, they thrive on that shit. And if you think I talk a lot, these motherfuckers literally talk non-stop. Can you imagine that? Someone that talks more than me? That's how bad it is. And then there's the complete opposite, the zombies. They never talk and never listen, so you can't help them either. So, you have to be happy in your own boat and just keep sailing the way you want to, first. And then, after a while, these people will open up to you because you are a sense of comfort, and BOOM -- they're all of a sudden open to anything you have to say. Besides, everybody out there knew full well who could possibly show up tonight, but they came anyway.” They concluded their little back and forth, and then remained silent for just a brief moment as Hanna did her thing. “There she is -- Poison Ivy herself.” Hanna cracked a genuine smirk at the calories jab. It was fairly easy to tell the difference between Hanna's real and 'fake' smiles. Or, well, calling them 'fake' did not do it justice. They were just trained in the same way that all media types train certain facial expressions to make it look good for camera. If Hanna's upper lip was folded outwards with a full, straight row of upper teeth showing, then it was a 'fake' smile. A genuine expression was less symmetrical, upper lip folded inward, and with more pronounced smile dimples in the cheeks. And then, there was a little something-something that happened in the beaut before her. It was subtle, no verbal indication, but the eyes spoke to such volumes that it could flood P. Johnson's ten times over. It was completely alien to Hanna and had never happened during their years at Ritman together. Hanna's facial expression sort of instantly relaxed to a default state, although raising both eyebrows to their absolute peak, stopping all movements. “Oh, weak in the knees are we?” Hanna said with pure instinct, no filtering inside her head at all, but following it all up by relaxing her frame, continuing with the cosmetics, and throwing a sensual smile in there to tease Ivy. “I can smudge lipsticks all night long, you know that.” Hanna had been quite transparent with her own sexuality even back then, but it had also never been a huge thing for her or super central to her identity -- it was just a natural thing, and that was the end of it. "Holy shit, you are so fucking cringe. You shouldn't have said the 'make out' part in the first place, dumb ass bitch." Her mind scolded itself. “Yup, all done!” Hanna said with a chipper tone, proud of her glowing work on Ivy's face. “I'd like to thank the Academy for this amazing award--” Hanna fired up with a silly voice. “For me--”, flamboyantly putting both hands on her chest, gazing at the non-existent horizon, sporting the fakest smile she could muster, “--Hanna Whittle, who, unlike miss Williams here, actually knows how to use basic paint and colors--” she continued by poking fun at cosmetics in general and sarcastically implying that Ivy had no clue how to properly use it. “Thank you so much,” she concluded with a faint sniffling sound, holding a ghostly award in her hands, throwing kisses from her hands into the void of some imaginary crowd. Hanna must have come off as batshit insane to any stranger walking in, but it would hopefully relax Ivy a little bit before getting back into the fray.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO すてきな} ^{p. johnson's [restrooms] interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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