Shard

Silverspell University; Sandbox-ish Dorm/Apartment Life Fantasy Creature RP

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Silverspell University; Sandbox-ish Dorm/Apartment Life Fantasy Creature RP

I'll throw a character up, here.

Young Adult Sandbox-ish Fantasy Themed University RP

Actually, I do not think I have ever done a completely Slice of Life kind of RP, before. Not that I can remember. The thought does seem attractive. I'll think about it.

Edit -

Actually, I do remember one. I think you hosted it, even.

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

On second thought, I'm dropping out.

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

To be fair, Layne is meant to replace Miles. Got tired of Miles. He was too dark and brooding for my liking, in the end. So, I intend to only have one character.

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

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Dead Roleplay, Ignore

Subject - Extraction

Target - A lockbox, embroidered with a seal of unknown origin stamped onto the surface.

Location - See provided map for further information.

Measure - Retain the lockbox, by any means necessary. Lethal force will be expected.

Mission Summery - You are tasked with locating and extracting the previously mentioned lockbox. The contents of said lockbox are not to be delved through, under any circumstances. Failure to locate, extract and deliver the lockbox unopened will result in immediate termination of the mission, and the agent assigned to it. The agent is not to, under any circumstances, make stops anywhere upon retrieving the lockbox. Failure to follow these instructions will lead to immediate..-

"...termination." Miles rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into...?" The boy spoke, dropping back against the seat of a rundown motel room paid for by the good doctor, which in turn lead to yet another assignment which needed to be undertaken.

Subject - Assassination

Target - Miranda Andersson.

Location - See provided map for further information.

Measure - Terminate Miranda. No other means of neutralization will be accepted.

Mission Summery - You are tasked with locating and eliminating Miranda Andersson. She is the holder of the lockbox, and should be located before the lockbox is extracted.

"So now, I need to murder a bitch, too. If lethal force was expected in getting the fucking lockbox, why give me a mission to off this chick, anyways..?" Miles groaned, shaking his head. This was probably only to prove that the Doctor owned Miles until he had paid off his debts. Whatever that lockbox contained was probably worth more than a single life, if Miles had to go through this insane amount of trouble, to get it. Clenching his teeth, the young soldier, or rather, the deserter wrapped his fingers around the pistol he had procured from the car and made his way out of the motel room. The sooner he got this settled, the better. If he was injured during this mission, he would have to medicate himself. Owing this insane woman something else wasn't going to do wonders for his health, in either event.

"Where the hell is Lucas..?" Miles squinted somewhat as he stepped out, seeing the now rising sun shedding its rays upon his tired eyes. Miles had woken up in the clinic, that morning. He had no clue where Lucas had gone, and if he was even close by, anymore. At this point, he could have taken the car and been off. Miles knew enough to measure his luck. Bringing the ex-soldier wounded, and dying, to a clinic which now had a string to pull, attached to Miles' throat, probably cost him the vehicle. If Lucas hadn't left, he was probably getting shit faced at the local tavern, something Miles wasn't too eager to participate in, given his current predicament. "Never been drunk, before..." The boy mumbled, stepping across the street as his eyes traced the files in his hands. "Might solve all of my problems. People get shit faced for a reason, right..?" He continued, stopping dead in his tracks with a soft frown making its way to his face. "Now I'm talking to myself. Wonderful. Fucking dandy..."

Folding the files, Miles slipped them into a shoulder bag he had been given. Extracting that lockbox did require a place to keep it, after all. Retaining the map however, the boy made sure to study it from one corner to the other in an attempt to pinpoint the best possible route to his designated location. One thing was certain. He'd need that car.

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

Distant Town, Medical Bay

Leaving the room, Miles passed his foot across the threshold and came to witness the small, and unnaturally tidy office. To his right, he saw a door leading outside, and to his left, there was a desk. A woman sat with several documents in front of her, a pair of glasses gently resting against her nose as she looked up at the boy. In a way considered little more than nonchalant, she lowered her attention to the files and simply motioned for Miles sit down opposite herself. Behind her, one could see a row of shelves containing books mostly matted and torn by the ravages of time, and the overall emptiness of the room leaned not against poverty, but rather perfectionism.

Silence lingered, and Miles found himself unable to do more than follow this woman's instructions. As she had demanded, though silently, Miles slowly lowered himself to the chair and waited for the woman to speak. The anticipation was somewhat dowsed by Miles' curiosity, his eyes finding home upon the files she was going through. "Name?" She finally spoke up, her attire proving her occupation of doctor.

"M-Miles..." The boy responded, taken aback by her sudden approach.

"This is your mission." She slid a gathering of files across the desk, seeing Miles' confused expression which in turn prompted her to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Mission..?" The young soldier asked, tilting his head slightly as he lowered his eyes to the files in front of him.

"You are a soldier, no?" She continued, her voice demanding authority. "I take it you know little of how things work here, then."

"I...I guess." Miles returned, earning a scowl.

"Yes m'am." She corrected.

"Y-yes m'am..." The boy repeated, seeing how the woman's frown eased out.

"Tell me, Miles. In a world as ravaged as this, how do you think that I can run a clinic?" The question pierced through the soldier, like a lance. She did seem to have access to things others could only dream of. "Because..." She continued, seeing the clueless expression on Miles' face. "...people value their lives, more than they value riches. Getting patched up here, earns you a debt. If you do not pay off that dept, those loyal to the well being of this clinic will make sure to take back, what I gave you." Right to the point. "And you required quite a lot of resources. I expect to be paid back, in full."

"B-but, I have no money..." Miles tried.

"Oh, come now. I do not desire your money. I desire action. Bring me what I want, and our business is concluded. Fail, and you will repay me in...other ways."

"Other ways...?" Curiosity got the better of him.

With a sigh, the woman leaned back against her chair, a less than amused expression making its way to her visage. "Your organs, Miles. Do you know what people would do for you, in a place like this, if you know how to properly store and implant organs? A lot. You will come to learn that favors are worth more than gold." She was right, of course. One could buy trinkets, and services, for money. However, this woman had figured out a system which seemed to work, for her. As long as she was around, she could cure people. She didn't demand payment in the form of money, and people were in constant need of medical aid out in the Ash. The Ash needed her, she knew it, and anyone could afford her prices. The question was simply, if one was willing to pay them.

"You've got people caged..." Miles finally broke out, expecting an angry response. However, all he earned was a delighted laugh.

"Oh, dear." The woman chuckled. "It's just business. Money fades, trinkets are useless. Action on the other hand, is priceless. If you control someone's actions, you own them. As a soldier, I expected you to understand at least that much." It was safe to say, that at the very least, Miles was learning what it meant to truly be a...soldier.

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

Distant Town, Medical Bay

Dressed like a civilian might keep me under the radar..

Character Sheet Updated

Mentioned:
@Sketcher - Lucas

The scent of sterile walls and the ever moving hand of a clock blanketed Miles' senses like the droplets of rain had, before. Comfort, it was a celestial embrace wrapping itself around Miles' tired frame, a savior warming his cold and fatigued body. It was hard to tell, if exhaustion or blood loss had been the reason behind his journey to the land of dreams. Lucas had been driving, and Miles spent the moments leaning against the window in a tired attempt to fade away. Inevitably, he did. Once the boy came to, he found himself within the sterile confinements of a medical room. The soft beeping sound of various equipment reached his ears and drew a picture before his eyes ever gazed upon his surroundings. With his chest slowly rising, and lowering itself in tune with his calm breathing, Miles eventually allowed his eyes to adjust to the ever shifting world around him.

It was rather dark, the lights dimmed for Miles' own comfort. Slowly ascending to a sitting position, he felt an all too familiar sting of pain echoing throughout his frame, though managed to hoist himself against the soft pillows behind him. Having adjusted to the setting, and the dim atmosphere blanketing the interior, Miles came to witness his exposed and bruised body. Dressed in a pair of boxers, a new pair would be fair to note, he had been cleaned and bandaged from the ordeals the young soldier had gone through. The otherwise bleeding wounds on his forehead had been covered in wrapping, much like his stomach, arm and forearm. Several areas across his wounded frame were scraped, but there was little one could do in covering them.

Taking a deep breath, Miles felt the exhilarating blessing of air traveling down his lungs without pain stabbing at every inch of his insides. On the small bedside table right besides him, there was a glass of water waiting for his thin and bandaged fingers to wrap around the cold surface and downed the liquid in a matter of seconds.

They had really done it. They had managed to get away from that hellhole and reached heaven. Well, the pearly gates didn't get much better than this. Not in this world. The passing of thirty full minutes eventually allowed for movement, and Miles slowly made enough progress to place his bare feet against the cold floor. Clenching his teeth through the pain, Miles pulled his scrawny body up to a standing position before seeing the wardrobe at the other end of the room. One wobbly step lead to another, which in turn linked to a third, and a fourth. This was going well, enough. Once he reached the wardrobe, Miles saw how more inconspicuous clothing awaited him beyond the door. A black pair of cargo pants, along with canvas shoes and a black sweater somewhat big for his lithe torso. This would do, and no one would be able to point at him and yell soldier.

Soldier. Is that what he was? The conversation he had shared with Lucas in the car came back like a crashing wave. What would he do, from here? On the battlefield, he had heard more than a few words of uncertainty from his fellow soldiers and those who thought otherwise were dead set on Liberty's compassion.

In the end, Miles didn't join the army to protect others. He didn't do this to save the world, did he? He did it for himself. He did it, to get a better life, in the end. He was hardly a saint, and he sought survival above all else. Perhaps Lucas had made the right choice. Perhaps, just maybe, the Wastes held what he was looking for. How ironic. He had been told that Wastelanders were all savages, but Lucas had proved those rumors wrong. "Maybe...I've been wrong since the very start..."

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

Decided to write a list with commentary on what Miles thinks of everyone.