Ruby

Hello?

Hey guys! My name is Annie and I'm obviously new here! I really do love role playing, I've been doing it for quite a few years, but most all of the sites that I had used in the past kinda have been dying. So here I am looking for new adventures and friends and creativity! I'm excited to join and if any of you want to get to know me bettter or if you have any tips for me it would be greatly appreciated!

@AnnieTimeNow

Welcome to the Guild, Annie! Let me know if you've got any questions.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Hey, a bit of GM direction is always nice but I think that thus far we have all proven to be both capable and mature enough to pitch in and help run such a sub-plot.

@The Red Bear

No question. Y'all rock.

Figure whoever wants to do that will start seeing signs of the ghost, while the rest stay with Emy and get confronted by Crowe's people after lunch. Maybe everyone then meets up later on at night in the coffee shop, or most, depending on the sub-plot.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Y'all want to NPC the ghost girl, and run the sub-plot yourselves? Or need me to direct it?

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Considering a ghost girl monster of the week, or a Carrie type, considering the inspiration of Danny.

Anyone interested in having their characters get into such a sub-plot?

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Her face twisted in mild confusion, her eyes blinked at Blaine. Her tone reflected that confusion, slight as it sounded, "Why wouldn't they have a chance?" Her mind continued the stream of thought: Do I have resting bitchface? I didn't think I had bitchface...maybe it's the smell of sawdust? Or--the thoughts were slammed shut, interrupted by a flash that went off in the back of her mind, like a warm 'pop' of emotion and memory. None of which belonged to her. All she saw were the words 'Sunnydale' and 'Hellmouth'; burning and raw in her mind's eye within the flurry of so many blurs of memories and emotions that she knew belonged to Slayer's past. Her eyes fluttered under long, dark, eyelashes, her head tilting just-so away from Blaine as she felt him jerk his hand away.

A motion so sudden, it opened her eyes, it drew her attention. In time to see the change in his eyes, in his face. It was a pretense of social behavior on Blaine's part, she knew that as soon as he approached. His feet dragged just slightly, his posture was slightly slouched, shoulders forward. He didn't introduce himself, his hand placement safe but didn't read as entirely natural to her--all the things you learned when your "uncle" was a CIA field officer, and the two of you were waiting for your parents in a mall filled with people to read, to be taught how to read.

Nothing Uncle Wes taught her prepared her for any of this supernatural shit, though.

By the time Blaine offered his weak ass excuse, Emy Vance's eyes were bright, wide, and staring. Her eyes darted to the front of the class, to find their fearless academic leader still absorbed in anything and everything but his own class. God bless public schools. Without a single second's further hesitation, she took up the placed note and opened it with a single hand. A quick scan, and she handed it to Casey. "Please tell me I don't have to be concerned about your friend, there." Her eyes spoke far more than her words to Casey as she handed him the note, in the long beats of the heart in which she locked eyes with him; concern, a general level of unease, and a hint of the savage defenseness that resembled a spark of what Casey would have seen in her eyes the night before.

Before her eyes were drawn to the spectacle of Adam, and the jerk from earlier. Something about Adam was familiar to her. Nothing about the boy, himself, but something deeper. The very sense of him, something in regards to his spirit. Something that spoke to all the emotions and memories from Slayer's past and gone that haunted her mind and heart and soul so often. It wasn't easy to stand there and watch Chad Johnson give the kid the hooligan act, like Chad was some street tough and Adam was his dealer bitch.

This time instead of the warm 'pop' of memory and emotion from lives she never lived, all Emy felt was anger. She felt the muscles in her neck tighten, she felt her arms cross over her body, her posture straighten as she began to size up Chad Johnson in a way she wouldn't have bothered to even when he was all over her. What did she care if Chad was all over her? If he touched her, she'd break him. There was no need for concern on her part. She was never in danger. Nothing bad would happen to her. But if Chad hurt Adam? For a reason she was past imagining in that moment, it bothered her. Like Chad was assaulting one of her own, like he was after a member of her own blood.

It's not my blood, though.

"...as if it's not confusing enough being a teenage girl..." A muttering under her breath, as her neck popped with a strong jerk to the left, her arms uncrossing and her body beginning to stir into actual motion. One foot, then--then her eyes were blinking again, and for the second time in the very same class period, Emy Vance swore she was witnessing something beyond the normal nature of the universe. Unless Casper was fucking with Chad Johnson. Her eyes danced; from face to face to face in the classroom as she searched for the cause. Someone capable of something like that could be dangerous, something she'd have to deal with if they used it to hurt someone else, or--

--oh. Her eyes locked on Danny, where they stayed a beat too long after being introduced to Adam. Then they flickered faster than flame, and her lips curled into a smile. "Yeah. Normal. Totally..........when's lunch? Please tell me the food is better than the dinner theater?" She said, her head slightly nodding in Chad's direction.

Gotham City: Shadow of the Bat

@Ruby@InkarnateStill here just on vacation until June 18th.

@Holy Soldier

Thanks for keeping us updated!

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Now waiting on that @Helo character, then I'll toss up an Emy post.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

<Snipped quote by Ruby>

I done a response! Though the source of the dilemma is still up and active, just distracted by Jedi mind-taps. I sincerely hope he becomes a recurring character, kinda like our Larry.

@Blood Echoes

Oh, definitely.

Nice post!

Realm has arrived!

Also, is there any option to delete posts? I made three too many posts in my new RP, and was wondering if I could get rid of them? All three are the most recent on the thread.

@Realm

Just request to a Moderator to delete your posts. PM me the posts you want deleted, and I'll take care of it for you. <3

Welcome to the Guild!

Gotham City: Shadow of the Bat

"How's Gotham?"

It was a pivot. A desperate attempt to change the subject, because Jessica didn't like where the subject was headed. You weren't supposed to catch feelings like this, Jessica. It wasn't in the plan. And it didn't particularly make sense. Jessica was off to South America over the break, while Barbara Gordon returned home to Gotham City. No one really understood it back in Palo Alto, but it didn't matter what they understood. If there was one thing Babs had become amazing at, it was keeping her emotional distance while making others feel as if she was emotionally right there beside them. She'd been doing it for longer than she could remember. At times she'd even done it with her own father, Batgirl getting the better of her.

"Oh," She paused, tilting her head as she watched the penthouse from a few streets away, her eyes glued to the high powered viewer, "it's going okay. You know, pretty boring all things considered."

"How's your dad?"

She frowned. "Preoccupied and stressed as always." Also missing and definitely in trouble. She left that part out.

Jessica started saying something; some mindless keep the conversation going longer than required small talk that Babs endured because she was too nice to brush the girl off. At least, until she heard the sound she heard too many times to ever miss in Gotham City: gunshots. Bang. Bang. Bang...Bangbangbang...bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bangbangbang. Her mind replayed it immediately, to double check the mental math: fifteen shots. All the same caliber. It sounded like someone emptying a clip into an entire room, or someone panicking and emptying an entire clip into one or two people because emotion got the better of them. Batgirl dropped the viewer and pressed her gloved hand up to her ear. "Yeah, Jess, I gotta go. Sorry, dad calling me."

Lies that sounded so natural, lies that came too easy. Batgirl always made Barbara Gordon's life easier, and yet more complicated, in the same breath. It was easier to lie, but it complicated life. Live a double life long enough, and the wrong behaviors became easier and easier. She imagined it was the exact same for behaviors of the worst kind. Do it for reasons you considered "right", and they got easier and easier over time. Her run-in with Poison Ivy the night before seemed to reinforce that. Or the corrupt cops she had been watching the day before.

Or anything Jason Todd ever did since his return from death. Not that Jason was really THAT bad anymore. She hoped.

Thoughts silenced as she moved towards the edge of the rooftop, facing the direction the sound of the shots came from. Thoughts silenced, and her mind emptied, as she did nothing more than watch and listen. The echoes of a fire escape rose above the other endless layers of night time Gotham City sounds, the tiniest blur of motion in the edge of her vision, before her head turned and her cowl zoomed in with a few taps just behind her ear. The figure tripped, moving faster than he ought to be, moving faster than his mind could keep up with. Where was the gun? Probably still on him?

The muffled sound of her grappler popped into the night air, and she began to glide, drifting above the busy Gotham avenue alive with light and cars and pedestrians, zeroed in on her target. Legs stiffened, back arched, head "steering" with slight tilts this way and that, arms controlling pitch with little adjustments as she went. Her upper back arched up to increase air resistance, to slow her, as she watched the man ditching the mask peel off the main avenue into a side street, a little alley between apartment blocks. Her landing on one of the apartment building roof tops was flawless, practiced, and silent. Batgirl was no more than a shadow amongst shadows as she peeked over the edge, and narrowed her eyes.

The man bent at the waist, breathing heavily, his pulse high. He probably had the gun still on him. Probably in the satchel. It wasn't in his hands, though, and that meant she could react faster than he'd be able to. A simple hop, and her world became a dance of gravity and her cape's resistance, the unlit windows and empty fire escapes of the buildings looming over the alley below blurring by as she touched booted feet onto the ground, a stone's throw behind the man bent at the waist and trying to collect himself--from the sound of his heavy breathing. The cowl noted the blood on his body, and the gun powder on his hands.

Her head tilted, her tone turned callow, playful. "Really bad party, I guess?" When he froze at the sound, she only smiled a razor thin smile. "Be smart here, guy. Turn around slowly, and show me your hands--while you can still lift your hands above your shoulders." The threat was a little more than implied.

@Americore