POOHEAD189

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

I've been trying to figure out what would be a reasonable thing to post next, but have not come to a true conclusion so far. This might very well be attributed to my week-long utter lack of enthusiasm for RPing. I don't know how this will develop, but for the meantime I'd like to ask for a one-time skip this posting round for me so I don't keep blocking you.

@Fetzen

I will allow it, my friend.

Give Me Your Favorite Quote(s).

Nemo vir est qui mundum non reddat meliorem?
(What man is a man, who does not make the world better?)

"If we wait until we are ready we will be waiting for the rest of our lives."

"Whoever delights in solitude is either a wild beast or a God"

"Just because you have the right, does not mean it is what is right."

Silver and Blood: A Warhammer Roleplay

YE GOT ME INTEREST, MANLING

Priest & Hawthorne Investigations - A Modern Fantasy Adventure!

Congratz guys!

Post a random fact about yourself.

I dodged a train once. Long story.

Priest & Hawthorne Investigations - A Modern Fantasy Adventure!

A last minute presentation, but I fell in love with the idea of a Fae so I had to toss my hat into the ring.

Hider

Name: Caber (his favored name)

Gender: Male

Race/Species: Gancanagh (Celtic Fae)

Age: 2,357 (appears 17)

Appearance: To describe the form of a Fae is...difficult. Some say he looks like a satyr, with cloven hooves and fur, and twin horns atop his head. Others describe him as a diminutive Elk, or a small man with the wings of a butterfly and a garment made of leaves and vines. Those who have seen him in Britain described him as a red fox. In truth he has been all of these, and more. His most common appearance is that of a youth, of with rich hair as dark as the night sky, eyes as blue as the deep sea, skin as flawless as a clear stream and a laugh like a song. His voice is often deep and as rich as his hair, but if he turns to anger or fear, it raises in pitch exponentially.

Personality: A lover of writing, paintings, and music, Caber is what you would call a patron of the arts. Beauty in all of its aspects, and the accumulation of such things drives him. He is very simple that way, and yet he has a vast wisdom and knowledge of the world born from his millennia of life. He is like most fae, quick to anger but equally as quick to calm, lust (what he is known for in the legends) and love arriving just as easily as distaste and hatred. Caber is a trickster and a knave, he is loyal to the PHI and those he seems of his clan. He enjoys learning and speaking dead or ancient languages. In relation, he has an extreme interest for ancient artifacts, particularly wealth that shines. He is quite greedy, and though he catches himself being selfish, it's hard to halt that part of his personality. Of course, above all he loves the natural world and he often stays outdoors whenever he is not working in the office, unless he has found a woman to seduce. After his many years of life, he has learned restraint to a point, however all it takes is a small push and he is as wild and unruly as he was back during his years as a Pagan deity.

Powers, Traits, and Abilities: Though he is no wizard or sorcerer, due to his Fae powers he can perform enchantments with his flute, and he can cast minor spells with a wave of his hand or the invocation of a word. His eyes and voice are mesmerizing, though anyone who is prepared can hold off that bit of magic with a stout mind. He has the ability to change shape, becoming creatures of the forest if need be, though there is hardly ever a need for that. He can see into the spirit realm and not only see other spirits or fae, but recently deceased humans or lost souls. Caber also has a minor levitation ability he enjoys using. His body is also far quicker, and slightly more durable than a normal man's. Years of exposure has also gained him a resistance to iron, the bane of all fae, though it still unnerves him and pure iron pressed to his skin will cause bruises and eventually cause him to lose his human form entirely. Despite these varied powers, his greatest strength is his knowledge. A lover of stories (mythological and mundanely historical) and ancient cultures, languages, and curses, he provides invaluable insight for the crew. He is very adept at gardening, bird watching, climbing trees, acrobatics, singing, dancing, and seducing taken women.

Background: A clear stream cascading down a rocky decline as the birds sing from above, and the sky opens to reveal a midsummer sun, revealing a vast sea of green, the highlands peaking out as waves. That was all Delilah could conjure in her mind to describe the melody played by the dashing stranger's flute. Once he was done, he opened his eyes and twirled the instrument within his nimble fingers, and the flute was gone as if it had never been. A sleight of hand, surely. "What's your name?" She asked, her pupils enlarged. He took her hand in his, looking positively smug.
The pub residents had all halted their conversations to pay attention to the flute playing, but once he was finished, the conversations rushed back in like a crashing wave of water. Caber took a drink from the generous pint he'd ordered. "Ah, a loaded question, some might say." he said, almost sounding bored. Perhaps not a loaded question to some, but Caber had been known by many names, and had seen many things change in his lifetime. The land he had been born had been called Gaul, by the Romans, and that turned into Gaullia, into Francia, and then France.
"Caber, they call me." He said. "And yours?"
She told him almost too quickly, her eyes caressing his jawline and the waves of his hair, only to follow his hand as he lifted up his mug once more. He was so young! Yet she was utterly attracted. "I love your music," she continued, her finger now idly twirling her hair.
"Can you believe some believed me a God for how I played the flute?"
She took it as a mere boast, giggling at what she perceived as an attempt at humor. He laughed with her as his mind wandered back into that ancient past, when he had ran wild and plagued the forests of old Gaul and Germania, until Caesar and his legions with swords of blasted iron came. The blasted Roman had gotten what he'd deserved at the senate, if only Caber could have been there to see him fall. Caber recalled the consular pursuing him even across the English channel into the British Isles. But ever northward had he traveled, and he found centuries of fun with the picts and the celts of Ireland. That is, until the Norse arrived, quaking with war and seeking vengeance with the power of their Gods of Asgard, using swords of dreaded steel.
With an effort, Caber calmed himself. He had done much better these days with keeping his faerie side from taking over, and once he opened his pools of blue, he found he should enjoy the catch he had made tonight. He drew in closer for a kiss.
"Hey, pal."
A rough voice tried to tear his attention away from the lass, but Caber had decided he would like to continue gazing at her for a moment. The voice spoke again.
"Hey, that's my woman there." The voice held a warning in it.
"Is it?" Caber asked aloud, unconcerned or simply unaware of the danger the interloper promised to present. "You are a lucky man. Tonight, I think she will be mine, however."
A rough, Nordic arm shoved Caber back and knocked over the wine he had been drinking, spilling the delectable contents across the table and shattering the serene mood the fae had placed himself in. Caber turned to the burly man, and the debonair young man suddenly looked feral, his teeth bared and the hair, no fur of his arms on end. What's more, his eyes blazed with the color of burning bronze. The lights began to dim slowly, and with the swiftness of the turning winds, Caber left his chair and had grabbed the man by his shirt collar, the youth's muscles firm like oak. "Do you think your Gods will save you from me?" the fae squealed in devilish delight. With an almost treeish certainly, he shoved the hairy Nord back into the next table, causing it to collapse. No sooner had the man hit the ground did Caber look as he had been, collected and as calm as can be.
The woman Delilah looked confused and torn, as if she needed to be told what to do next like a lost child. Caber smoothed his still-combed hair and cleared his throat, regaining his senses. "Two thousand and eighteen," he breathed, an indecipherable whisper to himself. A moment later, he turned back to Delilah. "My dear, it was lovely to speak to you. But alas, our time has come to an end. Had we met when I was a young one, you would be a Gwragedd Annwn." He clapped thrice, and the lights flickered once more. Those bar patrons that had not been too engrossed in their drink or still eyeing the prone body of the jealous boyfriend, would see the image of a goat-like thing in their retina before the lights turned back on, and the youth was gone.
The fae, now floating out in the nightsky back to his calling stone within the PHI HQ, realized he should speak of none of this to Morgan, or she would bind him to the station itself. That would be utterly dreadful!

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil had managed to get together some of the scrap from within the docking bay, and after haggling a bit with the local populace, he managed to quickly fashion and weld some believable, makeshift armor and clothing to better blend in. Oh he'd did not look well off. The leather overwrapped plates of steel on his torso and the ragged workman's clothing made him seem far more like a high ranking junker ganger than anything, or perhaps a shoddy bodyguard to the far more impressive looking Sayeeda. But he certainly wasn't himself. He'd even gotten some soot and pressed it across his face to better give off a local impression.

"Yeah, no kidding," he mumbled in reply to the Captain's comment. He doubted anyone above them would be a good enough shot to actually attempt to take one, but still. It gave them a slightly more vulnerable feeling. Neil clutched the cargo he carried in his left hand a bit harder, and scanned the crowd for any signs of the meeting. It occurred to him now that they had not discussed with Gnorlaac's second on if they were meeting her specifically or one of Gnorlaac's other goons. Luckily, after a moment of searching they found her in the crowd at a table. Small wonder that every table that sat around her and her two guards were nearly empty, save a few bums that were either concealed hitmen or were too dumb to actually take a hint and leave.

"If she doesn't have the money, I don't even care if we get killed, she's going down." Neil said.

"Just keep calm." Sayeeda told him, though she sounded like she was on edge as much as he was.

"So, you decided to join us my... good friends." Yrla said once they had approached her, and she indicated for them to take a seat. If Neil had a knife he could cut the tension. He'd just need to settle for his loaded revolver if push came to shove. Neil pulled out a seat for Sayeeda, and when she seated he took his own seat. He saw Yria, Sayeeda, the guards, and two of the low class cantina residents eyes followed the wrapped container as he set it on the table.

"So...this is it?" the dark skinned woman asked, eyeing them suspiciously. "You know I'll need it shown to me."

"The money first." Neil said, causing Yria to give an incredulous laugh. Neil just grinned, speaking up. "You wire the money to us. We verify it. Once we have it, we give this to you. If you aren't satisfied, you can kill us." It was matter of fact and simple, but the 'killing them' part would not be so easy. In a crowded Cantina, even one owned by Gnorlaac, a firefight wouldn't be ideal. However, if Neil and Sayeeda planned on stealing from him, it would be justified, which meant in order for everyone to be happy, the deal would go as planned...

@Penny

The Sunday Group

Of course I read my own stuff and wince at some of my work :P

@Penny

And here I thought you meant you did all the great writing ;)

Seriously though, looking it over now, we did/do have an all star cast of RPers.

The Sunday Group

@FantasyChic Oh yeah, the ship of the century! That and... being followed at the airport, a demon attacking our cars and hiding in a house is all I can remember, lol.

The Sunday Group

I'm definitely going to need to go back and reread a few posts to get my bearings, haha.