Avatar of Obscene Symphony

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Recent Statuses

9 days ago
Current LSAT takers lucking out like never before
10 days ago
Hard disagree. Everyone should simp for me
2 likes
13 days ago
AI has been a net negative to humanity and I will not be convinced otherwise
3 likes
16 days ago
Our guests have gone home and the kitchen was easy to clean. The house is spotless and the baby is sleeping. Life is good.
5 likes
19 days ago
AI is awful and I hate it but forums have been slowing down a lot longer than that. I think it's because the forum generation has just grown up and gotten new priorities (jobs, families, etc).
4 likes

Bio

child of the storm


I had a baby! :D

If you're interested in some short completed pieces of mine beyond my regular RP posts, feel free to rifle through my filing cabinet here.

About me:
  • Birth year 1998
  • Female
  • Canadian
  • Married!
  • Mother!!!
  • Time zone: Atlantic, GMT-4 (one hour ahead of EST)
  • Currently judging your grammar
  • Not usually looking for 1x1s but if you're really jonesing, my PMs are always open
  • Discord Obscene#1925

Most Recent Posts


The attention at l'École was welcome, especially since Maya had spent the entire trip resolutely refusing to speak to Edmund, Prince Lucas was a downer, and the new guy looked like a creep. She eased back into her old routine more readily than even she expected; likely helped by the fact that nobody here wore masks or hoods, but she’d also admit that the attention felt good after so long in the dark. She took lots of pictures and made lots of small talk, and only moments after gracefully taking her leave, her phone was dinging with Instagram notifications.

Not too bad for a day’s work, and they only just got here!

Similarly, while she couldn’t say she had much interest in the mana studies guy, the university atmosphere was kinda… nice. The hush that fell over the halls as they ventured deeper into the campus was reminiscent of her time in school, drowning out the entire world as she pored over astronomic maps and handwritten charts framed in equations that took up multiple pages. It was exhausting when she did it, and she’d never want to go back, but it was strangely nostalgic to recall those times.

When their initial search for Dr. Rhaveus failed, Maya’s reaction was similar to Tyler’s. “Impolite is one word for it,” she muttered, eyes flicking to a small group of students who were approaching down the hall.

“Excuse me?” she called sweetly to them, smiling and waving an arm. When none of the nerds looked up from their little nerd conversation, her smile faltered. “Hey!”

The second, louder call got one of the dweebs’ attention, the young man starting at the sound and then again when he finally saw the assembly of Holy Ones right in front of him. His cheeks turned red, and Maya’s smile resurfaced as sweet as honey.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Dr. Rhaveus’ class is, would you?” she asked winsomely.

The student blinked, cleared his throat, and pointed back the way he came. “Oh, well his class is over now, but it was in room L105. He might still be there, if you’re looking for him.”

“Thank you very much,” Maya replied, promptly leading the group down the indicated path.

The hallway led to an intersection, where a plaque on the wall pointed them in the direction of L105. However, upon turning the corner, Maya let out a tiny yelp of surprise and leaped back behind the wall, peering hesitantly around the corner. She groped behind her, looking for Edmund.

“They knew we were coming,” she whispered, a barely-audible hiss.

Down the hall, a pair of uniformed men stood guard outside one of the classrooms - from the numbering on the unguarded doors, it was likely L105. They weren’t armed, but their dress and the emblem on their jackets denoted them as Kaudian. The hall was otherwise deserted.

From the open door between them, a conversation could be heard.

“I am so pleased to have finally gotten the chance to talk with you, Dr. Rhaveus,” came one voice, tinted with an accent Maya knew to be Kaudian. “Your theories of mana inheritance have interested me for a long time, but I never thought I’d get the opportunity to have my questions answered.”

“Oh, of course, Your Excellency,” said a second voice, thinner but more animated. Presumably, this was Dr. Rhaveus. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time for a more thorough dive, but you’ll be interested to know that one of Princess Consort Lilie’s journals on the subject is actually kept in the archives here. The original is under glass, of course, but they have some transcripts you can borrow if you’d like to learn more from a primary source.”

“I’ll be sure to do just that,” the first voice replied, getting clearer as it spoke. It seemed he was nearing the door. “I won’t keep you any longer. Good day, and thank you again.”

The guards straightened, and a shadow fell across the door.


Jannick probably wouldn’t have stopped Holly if she chose to go fight monsters, but he was glad nonetheless that the task she chose was one of the less dangerous of the three. Not as safe as Doumerc would have been (he presumed), but he could hardly expect Holly (or himself) to sit through academic lecturing without falling asleep.

The trip to Croia was tense, Jannick never quite able to relax as he watched out for threats, but thankfully, his concerns were unfounded. He made some small talk with Sara and Dominika, but kept it mostly short and shallow - fast train, nice weather, pretty landscape, that sort of thing. He had absolutely nothing to offer on the topic of pacifying angry spirits, so he’d leave it to the more theologically minded of the group.

Croia was shrouded in fog, which the mayor explained as a bad omen brought on by angry spirits, but it wasn’t the supernatural element that put Jannick on edge. The fog was thick as mud, and grew entirely opaque at the edge of what was supposed to be the forest. Anyone could be hiding out there, and Jannick was on high alert, scanning the fog as the mayor blabbed on.

But when a familiar voice rang out through the mist, Jannick’s tension melted into exasperation. He suppressed a sigh, his posture changing considerably as he moved to rub his temple. When he got that letter from Delilah, he did not expect it to lead here.

“Hold on, I’ll take care of this,” he droned tiredly, turning to Holly. “Stay put for a second, I’ll be right back.”

He shrugged off the mayor’s concerns as he approached the source of the argument, fighting the urge to groan when he saw that the voice did, in fact, belong to who he thought it did.

“Hey Renata, remember me?” He introduced himself, painting on a practiced diplomatic smile. He sounded like he was speaking to a child, or perhaps a confused elderly person. He put his hands on his hips. “What are you doing all the way over here, huh? Remember how we talked about not yelling at people?”


@webboysurf The only appearance question you need to answer is if Huo committed to the leaf loincloth life


Def didn't forget this isn't the interest check anymore


Before any of you get any ideas


Maya didn’t offer much commentary after her initial contribution. She didn’t miss Edmund’s little remark, but his arguing with the rest of the assembly was more problematic. What had gotten into him? He’d been growing sourer over the past few months, but Maya thought he’d be capable of holding his tongue in a meeting of all current Scions. Her expression darkened as he continued to argue, but she let him speak - for now. With any luck, he’d gather enough rope with his bickering to hang himself with. She’d have to come up with a way to help him remember his place.

She’d never been all that interested in theology, but Lucas’ display would get a rise out of anyone, and Maya was no exception. The new Prophecy was shocking, but immediately Maya’s mind began to work. The red moon was probably a reference to a lunar eclipse (if it was anything other than poetry, anyway), but the mention of the Estoran star gave her pause. There was nothing she knew of suggesting any meaningful overlap of the Estoran star’s course and a lunar eclipse, but the Prophecy made them both sound concurrent. If she could figure out when the two coincided, maybe they would know exactly how much time they had.

Granted, unraveling this new prophecy wasn’t her top priority, but Lucas, darling that he was, offered her the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

“I’ll go with you to Doumerc,” Maya volunteered first, rising from her seat. “It’s been a while since I took a trip home, and you’ll need someone who speaks the language.”

She wasn’t eager to go back to Doumerc, she’d admit - not the least with a bunch of Kaudian cultists crawling around. But oh, how they’d fawn over the Scion of Gravity when she finally returned home! Prime Minister Dumont would be like putty in her hands. What a perfect opportunity to help him decide it was finally time for Doumerc to stand up for itself.


The Scion of Earth continued bickering with the Prince, Princess Belle bickered with everyone, Dame Sara tried to make peace; while Jannick had never before been in a room with all the other Scions and Templars for anything beyond idle pleasantries, the charade was quickly growing old. If not for the cloud of dread looming ominously over the whole conversation, it would have sounded a lot like the half-interested arguing of siblings at the dinner table. But they weren’t arguing about sports teams or who to vote for as mayor, they were deciding the fate of the continent. As such, no matter how much Jannick would have liked to tune the conversation out completely, the uncomfortable stone in his stomach wouldn’t let him.

Of course, if Jannick had known what was coming next, he’d have preferred the bickering. Putting a decisive end to all talk of war, Prince Lucas stood, and with little ceremony, invoked a thousand-year-old prophecy before their very eyes. The first words were familiar; no Sunday School student in Veradis, let alone a Church Knight, could ever forget the Primordial Prophecy, and Jannick was sure he had it carved on the inside of his skull.

But where it was supposed to conclude, Lucas continued, chanting new revelation in a voice that was not his own.

Jannick’s faith was emaciated at best, but surely no one on earth could ever shake the deep-seated fear and awe that came from hearing the words of the Goddess with his own ears. This was no priest dourly reciting scripture; this was the living word of the Mother, breathed through one of Her Chosen right in front of him. Jannick’s eyes grew wide, and his breath caught; it wasn’t until his vision began to swim that he realized he wasn’t breathing. He stood as stiff as stone, struck with trepidation and wonder, afraid to move a muscle. Once more, he felt the eye of Incepta on him, scrutinizing his every move, watching his response to Her revelation.

Judging him and finding him wanting.

Jannick heard little of what the Prince said when he came out of his trance. His awe quickly grew to anger as the new words of the Prophecy echoed in his mind. He did not doubt their authenticity - nothing could fake the feeling of the Goddess’ presence - but he resented them. What cruel game was the Goddess playing? On the heels of such tragedy, to drop this bombshell on them - what sounded to Jannick like a warning of a world-ending threat. Would it have killed Her to reveal all that a little earlier? Why would a supposedly loving Mother keep such important information to herself until the eve of disaster?

Jannick set his jaw, looking coldly over the assembly. The same as he long suspected, the Goddess just liked to watch them squirm.

As if to confirm his suspicions, the first reply came from Allard, the snake’s words dripping with artificial honey in a shameless display of sycophancy. He sugar-coated insults for his fellow Scions - including Holly, which Jannick did not miss - in the guise of counsel, and recommended a course of action Jannick immediately opposed. As had always been the case, Jannick had no mind for politics or theology - he understood none of the prophecy beyond the incontrovertible truth that it was genuine, and had no idea how to respond to a national threat - but he was comfortable in the knowledge that if someone like Allard wanted to go one way, then he should go the other.

He had to resist rolling his eyes at Dame Sara’s fanatical outburst, but at least she was sincere - he could not say the same for Allard, who seemed to lie with every breath. But a gentle tap on his arm drew Jannick’s attention to Holly, stooping so she could whisper to him. She was theorizing that the “red moon” in the new Prophecy might refer to a lunar eclipse. Jannick nodded as he straightened, feeling pensive and overwhelmed. Holly betrayed no such trouble, at least on the outside. He was glad one of them had some idea what was going on.

That being said, while Holly’s theory sounded very plausible, he suddenly remembered a story told to him by a visiting Knight from the forests of Doumerc, who described how the sky would turn red for days, sometimes weeks in the midst of serious fires. That sounded end-times-y enough for a doomsday prophecy, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

For the moment, he kept that to himself, instead reaching for a second helping of Holly’s gift ham to encourage the others to take their share. But it felt out of place to say nothing, too.

“Princess Rosemary is a child,” he offered inoffensively, hoping to lighten up their otherwise bleak scenario. “But so was Prince Aaron when he ascended the throne, and look what he managed to accomplish. She’s his granddaughter; maybe she has that spark in her, too.” He offered the Princess an encouraging smile.

He wouldn’t speak for Holly, but if she allowed him, Jannick was willing to offer his strength to help Rosemary fulfil her part of the Prophecy, even if the Goddess short-changed her. An affection for her beyond mere patriotism, which he struggled to explain, spurred him to action. Fortunately, Holly seemed on board as well, if her icebreaker attempt was anything to go by.


The New Year was just as strange for Jannick as it was for any Templar. On top of the fallout from the attack, there were three funerals to attend, a coronation, and only days ago, the (hushed) announcement of a new Scion of Lightning - it was the fastest replacement since Princess Rosemary herself was blessed. The Federation seemed to shudder under their feet as it changed so fundamentally and so quickly, and everyone walking on the shifting surface was liable to lose their footing.

But aside from political and ecclesial changes, Jannick’s private life changed too. He had kept his promise to Holly much like he’d kept his promise to Sir Ulrich as a kid - with much regret and inner complaining at first, but ultimately with grace - and made somewhat of a pest of himself ensuring that he always had eyes on her. He had taken it upon himself to bulk up her estate’s security, and wasn’t neglecting himself either. Holly stayed home a lot more than usual, which he knew was a dark sail on the horizon that he wasn’t sure how to handle, but in the meantime, it gave them the chance to practice Wind magic together. Granted, it was more Holly practicing and insisting that Jannick “just feel the groove of it, y’know?” but somehow, he’d managed to pick up a couple of things. He was no force of nature yet, but he could do more than funnel smoke into vents, which in his mind was an improvement.

And he certainly wouldn’t complain about Holly’s new homebody tendencies. Beyond the usefulness for training, Jannick wasn’t in a hurry to get Holly back into the spotlight. The dossier Irina sent out chilled him to the core, and he scarcely trusted the halls of Holly’s own estate, let alone throngs of worshipers and city crowds in the foreign countries Holly often frequented.

He was similarly in no rush to answer Prince Lucas’ summons, but Holly insisted that her duties as a Scion couldn’t be denied. They both packed light, but Jannick’s get-up was a bit heavier than Holly’s. Clad in his Templar uniform, extra magazines and a new set of throwing knives lined his belt and holster, and a billy club - more versatile than a blade, he thought - hung at his hip.

Holly’s host gift went over about as well as Jannick expected, although he did insist before they left (and still maintained) that if his mother had been hosting, a nice ham would have been better received than any fancy wine. When the gesture was curtly (or perhaps mercifully) ignored, Jannick offered Holly an encouraging smirk before showing her to a seat.

War was already the topic before the two of them arrived, and continued with a rising fervor that Jannick found… uncomfortable. He simply stood stiffly behind Holly’s chair, looking around at each Scion as they spoke, but not daring to offer his own two cents. He didn’t really have any to give; he never had a mind for politics, and the intricacies of international relations were far over his head. But the prospect of an all-out war with Kaudus still filled him with deep dread. His reasons weren’t well-considered or even particularly principled: he just had brothers at home, and nephews too, many of whom were either of fighting age or approaching fast. If the Federation committed itself to a war, a real war, they would probably end up in the thick of it.

Someone new arrived, and barely put a blip in the conversation. But Jannick’s attention was diverted, and his gaze darkened significantly when it fell upon Renault Allard, the new Scion of Lightning. Immediately, Jannick kicked himself. Dammit, he knew that stupid name sounded familiar when he got High Cardinal Margaret’s notice, but he’d neglected to follow up on his hunch, and now he paid the price.

Renault Allard was supposed to be serving a life sentence in Veradis Maximum Security Penitentiary. One of Jannick’s buddies had been on the team sent to apprehend him; they’d sent all the mages they had to confront Allard, suspected of stealing information related to banned curses. They stuck him with charges of high treason, apostasy, and about a million white collar crimes after the fact - everything they could find to bury him, not that it mattered all that much when the Church herself wanted to see him rot. He’d been the talk of the barracks for a month, and Jannick had seen his file in so many cautionary memos he could probably write it by hand.

And now he was a Scion.

Jannick shifted a little, subtly putting himself a little closer to Renault - between him and Holly. He didn’t trust that snake oil salesman grin as far as he could kick the teeth out of it, and he wouldn’t be letting him near Holly. It was a shame he was assigned Sir Chaudoir as his Templar; Jannick had been hoping to ask the mage for some real help with magic, but those plans would have to be scrapped now.

He had leveled Renault with a disapproving glare he’d perfected as a police officer when Edmund spoke up. His words were enough to bring Jannick out of his accusatory reverie - and they didn’t sit right with him. He frowned; he didn’t think Edmund was that type.

“Well, let’s not be hasty,” he insisted diplomatically, breaking his silence. He was a little surprised to see how much of a wreck the other Templar looked now that he was looking right at him. “I mean, ‘cowering’ is a little unfair, don’t you think? The first response in any situation like that is to run; trying to be a hero doesn’t help that much when it kills you.”


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