Shard

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

I have no clue who I am interacting with, lol.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

Central Point 🍧 Public Party 🍧 Friday Evening

'The darkening mist proceeded to envelop an otherwise sleeping village's harmonic form. Cold and unforgiving, the touch of death accompanied the ever looming presence. There had been rumors of a herald, one who brought judgement to the unworthy. He was said to be freeze the very blood of an onlooker's fragile frame. Truly, meeting this gestalt was a curse reserved for stories, and nightmares. It is however as they say, there is always a fraction of truth, in every myth.'

With a soft breath escaping his lips, Winter tapped slender, pale fingers against the cold surface of his glass. Short nails clicked against the reflective surface, though the sound was quickly drowned out not only by the ever growing crowd, but also the ever present music making its way from Winter's headset. An inspiration for his story? The chilling surface of his glass offered an idea, if nothing else. He had promised his sister to attempt this feat of social pursuits. Thoughts of his last meeting came to mind, and Winter could not consider the event a success by any stretch of the imagination. That white haired young student on the path to a doctorate offered anything but a pleasant introduction, and Winter was not prepared to act much better in response. Needless to say, this did not bode well as a first impression by the brave, new world Winter had so carelessly promised his sister to be part of. 

Sipping from the drink which was a beverage far more appreciated by those of a refined palette, the author managed a sigh before his eyes traced their gaze across the festivities. Groups had formed and shaped into smaller clusters, each one a source of communication which in turn offered pleasantries the corner could not compete with. Where was the safety, however? Where was the tactical approach? In the air of an approach, what exactly was Winter doing here? Feeling of place was sever understatement. He had found a corner which was quickly confiscated by the young man and called home. Its confines would do, and it would act as a fine excuse. If no one came to talk with him, it wasn't Winter's fault, now was it? To be fair, his sister was expecting quite a lot from him. She was supposed to join him in this event but work swept her from heeled feet. 

With his hands upon the circular bar table, the esteemed and far too forgettable author lazily leaned his slight weight against it's shape. Large, raven eyes then shifted between the fiction presented in a leather bound notebook, and those drawing the surroundings a social event. What inspiration could he gather, in a place like this? A masquerade, perhaps`A vampire ball, dark and mysterious? How about a scene where the shy and reserved author poked a whole in that bubble known as insecurity and stepped out of his comfort zone? No, no one would read that. Would they? People didn't dive into the world of a book's many sentences because they wanted to read a reflection of reality. They wanted something else. Winter wasn't it. 

Then, it was unfair to assume, wasn't it? Taking another sip of his glass, Winter narrowed it down to the atmosphere, at this point. He never did like white wine, or any kind of wine, for that matter. But there was a thin line between appearing vaguely interesting, and being a pathetic waste of breath in the corner. That glass of wine was the line, and it did not require deep thought to come to a certain understanding. One approach was more attractive, than the other. 

There was a certain air of mystery upon a man making the scene his own, sensually sipping from a glass of wine with dark eyes welcoming his surroundings. This was, of course, not the image brought to fruition at the sight of this eternal teenager apparently unable to reach the physical shape of his age. Of course, it was worthy of note, dotting his awkward and less than graceful personality. Tripping on his words, lost in thought and unable to look others in the eye. Indeed, Winter was anything but the alpha would seek in the male companion. Rather, a lost puppy would reach along a more fitting description. 

Eventually, Winter would be forced to yield to his less refined tastes, and gently pushed the still filled glass a distance across the table. 'Welcome to your life.., there was however one thing Winter could constantly count on. His music. Without it, it was safe to say that the young author would barely function. Words would not leave his fingertips and they certainly would not find home on paper. '...every body wants to rule the world!' But at least there was that, wasn't there? At least, he would always have that. 

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

@PrinceAlexus I’ve missed the RP. We’ll see what trouble I can get Winter into.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

I have been writing!...at work. I’ll have my reply to when I get home in 2 hours.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

I am sorry for my absence. I’ll try to have a reply up today.

Revenant: A Sci-Fi Adventure (Always Accepting!)

Included - @Crossfire

Food, at the mention of nourishment Willow felt a sting in his stomach. Indeed, he didn't eat much but ample time had passed since the last time he indulged. It was an odd sensation, to have someone at his door with food. Though, not because of the act itself. The time spent at the laboratory he knew as home left someone outside his cell door quite often with a plate scarce with an intake of nourishment. No, this time, a crew mate came to Willow through the thoughts of a heart. Care, that was a new sensation to wash over the young man. A pale hand reached for the door to remove the confines which otherwise separated himself, from the crew mate known as Stryker. 

Battle scarred, experienced and intimidating, Stryker drew a picture expected from a warrior. Yes, a soldier. He was here because of his skills, because of what he offered in terms of experience, and prowess. Now, that was quite the contrast from Willow's presence, his part of the team narrowed down to an alien virus which not only inhabited his body, but was part of it. In a way, Willow felt like he was cheating. Quite the odd thought to come to mind, but everyone else was here because of hard work. It was this, or rotting in prison. The death sentence was also an option, which was worthy of note. For Willow however, he was here because his body happened to connect with a virus no one could fully understand. Had he not killed those scientists, including his father, he would not have been here. He would have remained at the operating table, a thought which forced the young man to tense in response.

"Thanks," Willow spoke softly, lowering his headset to his neck before slender fingers came to accept the platter Stryker had brought. "That's fine," he continued at the mention of a firing range. While silence was a comfort at times, so were loud noises. The boy did at times need a pause from the voices echoing throughout his head at this very moment. 

"Poor little friends." They began, "when will you slip up Willow? When will you kill, disfigure, raise..., when will you destroy, infect, and rot..., when will they start hating you? When..., when? the voices clawed at the boy's sanity, causing him to clench his teeth with a breath escaping his lips. He couldn't let them win. He couldn't let them overcome him. If he shut himself off completely, they would. If he pushed everyone away, missions would suffer because no one would be able to trust him in the midst of combat. He had fought his way out of that operating room because he wanted to live. He had come this far, because death was yet to claim him. 

"Sure," he finally spoke after a short pause, the battle with his internal acquaintances coming to a temporary pause. He would join the rest of crew, if only to see how long he could manage this. 

Revenant: A Sci-Fi Adventure (Always Accepting!)

@iTem

You mean Karkat? Yeah. I don't read Homestuck. I just like the character design.

Revenant: A Sci-Fi Adventure (Always Accepting!)

@iTem

I find your ability to draw our characters really, really astounding.

Revenant: A Sci-Fi Adventure (Always Accepting!)

The passing of eight months would manage the slightest of mending, stitching together wounds unforgettable. Indeed, for young Willow, the chaotic scenarios known as a devastating past was naught but a story, something which had passed him by as a laboratory acted as hearth, and home. It was only after the choice of life and death came to greet the scrawny gestalt that his presence upon an impressive ship known as the Revenant came to be. "Tell us, Willow," a voice echoed throughout a tired mind, clawing at the boy's sanity as his back rested against the unforgiving cold of a metal wall. "Tell us how you felt, Willow! Disembodied sounds emanated from the deepest depths of the young man's mind, large black eyes resting upon the grated metal floor beneath his feet. They had been part of him since an age back, but once the Necrotica became as much a part of Willow's body as his own beating heart, their presence was elevated. By the weakening of his physical shape, their size grew.  "It made you feel powerful, didn't it? Yes, yes it did, Willow! You liked it!" Liked it. Indeed. Only a fool would deny the satisfaction stemming from annihilating those who had stripped you of a freedom once known, and loved. Only a fool would discard, cast aside the anger boiling within when needles knew your skin better than your own hands. 

"Shut up..," a soft voice returned, light and quiet as Willow's lips parted to return a response. He did not seem angry, nor did he seem distraught. No, he was used to this. The voices were a side of him he had stopped running from. A side of him which had grown to become a constant. Turning up the music entering his ears from the headset he wore, the 'Herald of Death' as it were, enjoyed to drown the voices in a stream of sounds from time, to time.

He could still recall it, that time when the treatment temporarily closed them off from his senses. Never had Willow felt a loneliness such as that. Despite his hatred towards these disembodied personalities living within the darkness of his soul, he could not imagine an existence without them. This dark, lonely hull of the Revenant was not home only to Willow, but also to the beings he had named. No one could hear them, no one but him. He was considered insane by many a soldier, and even his crew mates would proceed to view this boy with caution. Infused with the power of destruction, of withering despair, he was also plagued by a certain condition considered insanity. Such was a combination ringing a tune of disaster. 

Slender fingers moved their shape through the raven bangs covering Willow's eyes, his sight turning to view the escalating heights above. The others were eating, an act he had secluded to the confines of the hull. Down here, he felt safe. In the dark, cold confines of the lower interior, Willow felt in control. Down here, he could practice with his powers without damaging those who would hesitate for naught but a thought before putting a bullet in his head. He was the newest addition to the team, but it was safe to say that Willow had not made any attempts at reaching out to his fellow crew mates. To be fair, he did not even know if most of them were aware of his presence. Only a few days had passed since he was tossed into this world he now knew as a home. The boy had yet to know a mission, and the battle hardened warriors above were jaded not from apathy like Willow himself, but from experience. 

Indeed, there was much to learn. In a way, he was excited to lay witness to the scenarios which would continue to unfold. The voices were right. Willow enjoyed using these newfound powers forcefully infused with him. There was a certain satisfaction coming from raising your hand, only to gaze upon the withering frame of he who has done you wrong. There was a certain satisfaction in willing the dead back to automation, only to see them rip others apart, others who had imprisoned Willow like naught but an animal. A lab rat, a test subject. "They got what they deserved." He finished, clenching his teeth as laughter emanated from the voices inside his skull. 

Revenant: A Sci-Fi Adventure (Always Accepting!)

@Crossfire

Thank you. I can see that this RP has been successful for months, so I might be stepping out of line to flag a suggestion. From my experiences, instant communication between players can make for easier and more effective interactions. I'd be for a Discord if that would be a reasonable approach. Though, I can see clearly that it hasn't been needed.

As for my reply, I will get one up as soon as I am more up to speed. I don't really know where and how to introduce Willow, yet.