Rockette

The Infected

I've become a tad out of touch with the setting, so I'm trying to get the interest back. My fault for not being active in this thread. So sincerest apologies!

The Spirits Within

Huh no wonder some look familiar!
I really enjoy them, and sometimes save them myself.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

The effort is appreciated but the blur is a tad distracting. What progamme did you use?
I admit that the speed of this role play is a little daunting, but I'm enjoying the posts and trying to keep up with you all! My work schedule keeps me away basically all day and I come back at night to see everything progressing so quickly. d:

Edit: I'll have a post up in the morning possible or sometime in the day.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

Well that's what I meant, with the way things are rapidly progressing.

But that aside:
One hall is collapsed now? 9, Rin, and Kylmi were forced back to the barracks with Shorus.
And now we have to deal with the World Breaker? Naked asshole prince came running back and now, Tarwin, Nessa and Aevah are in that vicinity.
And there are a lot of bodies... that too.

But essentially that is just what happened, I think.
Yepp.

The Spirits Within

JJ Doe said
Also, what in the world did Dr. Perth do to Julian to be on his hit (?) list?Dr. Perth: It probably has to do with the time I told him he was an overgrown spoiled child who really needs to grow up, because his "tantrums" are quite annoying....Ah.*Zooms in*......*Smirks*

Well that. And he hates Kimberly, because of you-know-why, and he knows that she is close to his family and her name is all over his medical records. So he's targeting her as well for certain reasons, and anyone else tied to our group. I don't know if anyone else has family that is local to Oak Ridge? But for now Julian will be starting his own little plot.

Mag Fact: Aside from her favourite food, she has a bit of a sweet tooth that she is somewhat embarrassed about due to her reaction when confronted with pastries and the like.

And, that is one badass looking boss, where do you find these images, Prisk, I feel like I've seen some of them before, also been looking forward to this fight! c;

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

I suppose I'll use combat summaries or indicate important actions since it is rather hectic with everyone trying to do everything, I apologize if my posts were confusing in any form. I try to acknowledge all the courses of action the characters take.
I'm sure once we finally get out, things will go much more smoothly.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

&

Location - Elibstan Citadel Dungeon
Health - Iron poisoning; dehydrated; dying
Inventory - x x x

---

Her iron shackles were removed with an ironic ease, the poisonous metal clattering uselessly to the cobblestone and reflex bid her flinch back from the offending shackles, and she was entirely grateful to the beast despite all his bluster and bellow. His baritone was a deep timbre that shot through her bones when he commanded that she fall behind him, but Kylmi wasn't about to complain from the literal shield he would provide in the onslaught. The iron festering within her blood burned and boiled with every trembling inhale that scored through her lungs in shards of hellish pain, her clawed hands darkened and coloured in a bark-ish brunette wove and gingerly clasped around her wrists reddened and blistered from the cuffs. They were raw from the insidious clasps, thorns having been eaten away literally by a near acidic reaction, the same condition slowly beginning to decompose the corners of her infamous, sinful mouth and the joints of her ankles riddled with tines. The Nymph shuffled after the charging ebonette bull, cradling her wounds to her chest, using the charred, downy fur to comfort and cushion any jolt or shock of impact during the raid.

The air was permeated with the after tangs of magic from every respective caster, and she felt awed and inspired by their attempts though she could not summon the thorns on her delicate joints or even manage a call to any dead, forgotten plant life wallowing away beneath the stone, she felt utterly useless. Kylmi stumbled, caught her fall against the brunt of the crumbling corridor and allowed her breath to catch as everyone paused for the split second to decide on their trajectory. Eyes dimmed by the constant thrum of agony, she cast her eyes in a not so subtle rake down the well defined form of the man who was poisoned just as she was, a prince, fallen from grace; degraded to his bare extremities and that in its self was a rather curious sight. Muscles and sinew illustrated into a near warrior perfection, the same detailing could be proffered to the evlish kin and other forms of man when they followed after his charge and her brow quirked.

Well, well. Not a bad view.

Even in the throes of her anguish, Kylmi laughed to herself with the chortle ending in a whistle of a wince, making her lips form in a scowl and her eyes to clench shut. But then there was a commotion, a squelch of flesh peeling and rent open by the fall of a monstrous talon, the plop of the dead receding into nothing; so easily dispatched by the brute strength of her aforementioned liberator. The Nymph did not mind the blood dotting her skin, the startling contrast of scarlet decorating the fur of her breast and waist, his roar was a cry meant to instill fear but she was not afraid. His open arms and talons were darkened by the life of their jailers and she smiled at that, thankful that her former torturers were falling under the revenge of their captives; thieves, murderers, mere exotic attractions and those mistaken for fugitives. Despite the pretty speech their token royalty had given, she cared not for it, these people had hurt her, their deaths made her heart pound in glee.

Kylmi stared up at the glowing eyes boring down onto her and flinched at the voice booming across her cranium, she didn't see any gender specifications under all the plate of his exterior, but the tone in her mind was the inflection of male. Not that she cared, Kylmi would gladly leap upon the arms of the slender elvish girls if they had offered their assistance too. His stance was aggressive, and any other individual might have been wary and fearful of his impression, but she merely beamed a grateful simper and graciously relinquished herself to his awaiting embrace.

"Thank you, you glorious beast you," she said, planting her chapped lips upon the ridged and rough hide of what she could only assume as his cheek.

There others were retreating into the barracks once the Minotaur charged through the door like it was nothing. Kylmi clasped her arms tightly upon the insectoid and waited when everyone began donning their gears and threads, she watched of course and noticed she wasn't the only one considering the reptile's rather awkward stare. She admired their skin and flawless physiques and glanced down at herself whittling away the more they stayed here within the dark. The evlish women, one of white and the other of shadows spoke in their elegant cadences and she frowned at that. Kylmi did not have any possessions here, for what valuables she had once possessed had been left behind at her traitorous lover's bed and those were nothing more than practical wears and she was sure by now they had been sold for meager coin at the market, or burned. But she also did not know where to go from here, sensible decisions bid that she return home to the woods but she couldn't imagine bringing with her the onslaught of the royal guards, the imagery of her home once again being pillaged tore at her heart and she ducked her head for a moment.

"I need to get outside," she murmured quietly, lifting her eyes to the glowing ones of her mount before finally speaking up, her voice was edged in a feral panic, the ends of her hair continuing to curl and rot with her dwindling time. "Whatever you are planning to do, loves, we must do it quickly! Some of us do not have much time." The Nymph cared not for treasures though the story was fantastical at best, her glassy stare swept towards the black furred bull.
"They will expect us to retreat to the woods, I know the forest of Uchfos well, but I doubt they'll simply forget such prizes as the many of you and just let you go. " Kylmi felt her hope diminish, she was once again homeless in this cruel blemish of fate.

"But whatever it is that must be done, I only wish to see the sun again, I'll go with you, just so long as I leave this horrid place behind." Her grip tightened upon the blood drenched chitin of her beast, desperation colouring her face pale.

The Spirits Within

Prisk said
Sounds nice! I usually stick to Breezers, and Vodka Orange for the heavy stuff!

You'd mix well with the group I go drinking with, they love vodka anything.

JJ Doe said
Wow… I guess a lot of people are looking forward for the supernatural teen drama...

Of course, with our group of characters it's bound to happen!

Hmm… “dreaming of you”… “dreaming of you”… uh… any of the characters who has (or had) an unrequited crush on someone else.

Aaron.
Oh! And Freddy.

Where Angels Fear to Tread (Community Revived Edition)

&

Location - Elibstan Citadel Dungeon
Health - Iron poisoning; dehydrated; dying
Inventory - Iron shackles [cuffs]

---

There was a concept of time, a universal belief and religion that attested to its self, in that the world will continue to move on should you perish and in this confine of a dank, dismal hell she would rather be dead. Death was a balm to the sluggish crawl of seconds and dwindling life of the shoddy masonry assemblage that was her solitary cell. Bound in crude iron shackles with an equine bit shoved unceremoniously between her lips, and twined shut by the chafing leather of a mocking muzzle, or should they be dubbed as her unofficial reins, the creature that was personified of life and warmth was incarcerated because of the very nature in which she lived. Bridled with their cruel amusement, the diminutive figure in the corner with her arms fastened high above her literal crown of thorns and antlers had been confined to this dungeon for such a time that she could not recall or remember; they had never even offered her a scrap of clothing despite the downy fur of her breast. That concept had been cruel in its avoidance and allowed her mind to fester and her psyche to crumble beneath the silence and droning woe that permeated the stench of filth and long forgotten detainees.

In her time of her captivity they had discovered unique tortures to her gender, customized and tailored to her physique and her genetic materialization, to assuage and impair, to rend the blood asunder from marrow and skin alike from the bidding maliciousness of her aggressors. For they had never had the sadistic pleasure of imprisoning her kind. These unique devices of cruel intent had burned and marred her, had been specified and designated to be a rather hellacious reminder in her meddling with her betters. In the initial wounds and lashes of crude iron, she had screeched and bayed wildly like an animal caught in the snares of her obsessed hunter, writhing from the burning; the pain; her song of agony had struck deep inside the masonry and there it would be a memory in blood that had been the colour of evergreen pines.

Kylmi had, in that single moment of hopeless despair, allowed her heart to be surrendered to the dark and it was illustrated in the curling ends of her usually chartreuse hair that was beginning to wither and die in the bruising of brown tones. She wasn’t meant for the shadows or the despairing confines of prison and never had she been concerned for such. She had lived life and enjoyed each and every pleasurable splendor it had to offer, even in her torturing she had found a masochistic desire within the branding and lashes - thinking about it allowed a muffled chortle to slip beyond her mask. But now they had directed their attentions else where, forgoing her near ritual treatment in favour of the troupe of convicts locked and withheld in the largest cage designated for those to be sorted and separated later on in their own cells. That in itself gave testament to how long she had been held here, not to mention the deterioration and literal decomposing of her body that accumulated in stages.

Eyes narrowed within the dark as her elegant ears swiveled and rotated in kin to a fawns and were just as sensitive. The scrape of metal in the dark, the drone of voices varying in baritones and pitches, all receding back to where she was withheld in one of the last blocks. A sort of vain hope tore through her heart and with it the crumbling of walls. The stones fell upon the brutal force of something big, incredibly huge though she could not see, but the sounds assaulted her ears none the less and she cringed behind her crude, leather muzzle. The bar to her cell trembled with the commotion and her eyes once dimmed with woe lit up in a spark of leaf green when something monstrous loomed beyond the doors. It was a creature she did not know, not even back home in the woods of Isildier, but he was something to behold and revere in that moment and terrifyingly beautiful . His talon came down upon the iron and she strained with the chains and shackles still holding her back, freedom loomed just beyond those shattered fixtures and she nearly whimpered when the beast moved on to other doors.

Her arms strained and her soul screamed as she flailed her body to try and dislodge the links from the wall, her peculiar feet decorated in thorns and claws scarped the cobblestone in her struggle but without the sun she was weak and dying, a plant withering in the dark. The Nymph screamed around her cruel bit and threw her entire body toward the gaping cell door and whatever divinity existed out there [for the White Stag was no more] she managed to sever her chains. Rust flaked and metal scraped as she fell forward and clawed at the dungeon floor, desperate in her need to get out here, she needed the sun, the brims of life, she needed air that wasn’t rank with the dead and the dying. Kylmi tore at the muzzle of leather and with a sharp cry also yanked the iron bit from her mouth and coughed out the poison of it festering on her tongue. Webbing of black taint was splintered across her cheeks and lips, veining down her neck as she braced against the nearest wall and glanced down at the iron shackles still donning her wrists. Those would be harder to remove, the iron was poison to her much like her Fey cousins. Already the dark blemishing was crawling up her arms, blackening her usual palour, she grimaced at that and finally glanced up to her surroundings.

Fallen princes and beast folk, mer of various blood and man. Such a gathering, she mused.

The entire situation was chaotic at best, various creatures and races piling out from their prisons and making their last desperate attempts for freedom. She could admire that at least, she could even taste the potential of it all as she stumbled and wished in vain for the plains of grass and the thickness of trees. All she had here was stone, hard and unforgiving, but she wouldn’t allow herself to surrender to that hopelessness once again. With a shrill cry like that of a bird capering in the sky, Kylmi used the walls to push herself forward despite the toxin boiling still in her skin. She launched forward in an adrenaline rush, cheeks flush with her new found energy - she was in no condition to fight and was entirely out of her element here. Options limited and conditions deplorable, the Nymph could only linger in the last line of their sudden offense, depending on these impromptu saviors to charge their way through the masses.

The Spirits Within

Anima said
Oooo drama! Gotta love it! Can't wait to add to this dog/cat fight escapade :3!Rockette, just from reading your character's bio, I think our characters are going to get along swimmingly! Um, first impression anyways.

Yay, buddies!