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3 mos ago
Current Finals are finished, clouds disperse, CHRISTMAS COMES FOR US ALL
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3 mos ago
Finals begin, black clouds gather, fridge is empty, need a rez
5 mos ago
Exams initiated, self-destruct protocol next in queue


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It does occur to me that a general sound-off of character concepts could help people make decisions about what they want to play. Frame of reference, I'm currently considering a Lunar Full-Moon caste as an Old Man(tm) based on Snakes, particularly larger pythons and vipers.
Did someone say stalking? I'm actually interested, though I haven't really done anything with Exalted before. If there's still room and you're willing to tolerate the know-nothing I'd be happy to jump in.

Physical Education
Red Team: The Side with Slightly Less Initiative

@Crimson Raven@Norschtalen@Abillioncats@Kaithas@Plank Sinatra@Krayzikk@HereComesTheSnow@FlitterFaux

It was time.

Breaking huddle, the two teams set up positions on the field. Blaine walked up to the midway line with a solemn grace unfitting of his size, one foot in front of the other. Scooping up a red brace, the faunus cinched it tight against his left ankle. The less he gave the opponents to catch onto during marks, the better.

Squaring up behind the line, Blaine felt his nerves clutching at his mind, sinking their claws into his stomach… He closed his eyes, took one deep breath, settling his mind into a smooth corridor of stone, one goal, a start and a finish. There was victory on the opposite side, glory and a good impression and possibly lunch, it had been a while since breakfast… But no, he had to focus on the task at hand! Right now, he had one job, and one job alone: get the ball from one side of the field to the oth-

The whistle gave a shrill blast. Trad was in the air already, his well-defined musculature sending the ball screaming towards Selena. Both teams were already moving, Blaine’s moment of resolution costing him the first heartbeat of action. Swiftly, his eyes rocketed back open, his head swiveling to follow the ball. Others were already moving, Selena was soaring in the sky with the composed grace of a particularly confident dodo from a catapult, Krysanthe was bolting down the pitch for a catch, but Selena was hesitating, eyes flitting around the pitch. The defenders were doing their jobs, just as Blaine knew they would.

Blaine was a simple man, generally quick on his feet, and the rules were exceedingly clear on what happened when someone was tackled. He could jump after her, but he knew that speed was her forte. That being said, if nothing was done, she would pass and the moment would be gone, the ball well on its way towards the dreaded Blue Team's first six points.


Thinking quickly, he made his decision. The shoe was worth it.

With the precision of a well-oiled machine, the student lowered his bulk to the ground, lined his foot up, braced his right foot against the back of his left shoe’s heel, dug his toe into the turf, and felt his aura drain as he activated his semblance.

A loud popping noise signaled his launch, his shoe exploding from a size thirteen to a ten-foot long elevator, the rapid expansion paired with the thrust from his right leg launching him bodily towards his silver-haired opponent in the same trajectory as a graceful, one-winged eagle made of lead and dreams. It wasn't pretty, but it would get the job done. If she came from a catapult, he would enter the field from a cannon, the school-issue footwear falling off like the first stage of a rocket launch, falling back to the earth at its normal size with an anticlimactic thud.

This was for the Temple of Iron.

This was for the Red Team!

This was for FOOTBALL!!!

@Guess Who

Nah Man, it's Australian football, which are the rules we're using in the P.E. class IC. It just looks EXACTLY like rugby in pictures.

To the casual observer, much was happening in the gym right now. One member of the red team had just changed form to match that of an opponent, both sides were doing their damndest to self-destruct through the mutual powers of net-petulance and sexual harassment, and The Lord of the Swole himself intervened. Exciting day, overall.

The same observer, if his eyes were to linger on the Red Team, would see a red-haired girl simmering, a steel-eyed fellow laughing, one man abandoning hope of harmony in favor of old James Bond references, a girl slowly turning as red as the furious woman’s hair and a large, blonde man wearing a school uniform that was much too tight.

Blaine turned away from his teammates, one hand wiping an eye. His face was slightly red as the shame filled him. He had allowed his team to be besmirched in the eyes of the arbiter of sport, the Bishop of Iron. Truly, this was a day to be remembered in the darkest corner of his heart.

Biting back the words that were held on the tip of his tongue, Blaine’s attention shifted from his soon-to-be missionmate and her shenanigans to the matter at hand: the game was about to begin. There were a few minor details to address, but first things first, he had to make sure there was no lingering ill will in the team, at least caused by him. He would leave leadership to the assigned captain and his second. They would guide the team to glory, he knew it in his heart of hearts.

Feeling his face cool, he addressed the feather-haired girl who had expressed disinterest in stripping. “Do not worry, teammate. I said the attractive members of the team, you have little to worry about. I was regarding teammates Vesper Lynd the now-woman in his-slash-her masculine form, Second in Command Lucas, Violet, and our yet-to-be-named teammate as a wildcard." At this, Blaine nodded towards the masked individual he saw, her(?) hair black and purple. "As their own side has largely female temptation, I was hoping to counter with masculine features and a variety of body types; their own men will be distracted enough. I know not their preferences, however, so the ultimate judgement falls back to individuals concerned. As for eagerness to take off clothes,” The oversized student locked eyes with the silver-haired woman who had come over, “I would not try to pressure those who wish to do otherwise.”

After making sure his message had crossed the room, or at least team lines, Blaine looked towards the small-voiced girl, a red flash upon her pale face. “In other words, no, teammate Violet. Stripping is not required.” His voice was gentler as he spoke in her direction for the smallest moment, though his blazing eyes did not decrease in intensity nor the vein pulsing in his forehead cease it’s constant motion. “As for your semblance, I think you’ll be surprised. If they have any sneakier teammates, you will find use for it. All will be well.”

Lastly, the faunus needed to speak with the short, grey man with his metal extremities. It seemed as though he did not take his team too well into account, but that could be addressed later. The large blonde man smiled broadly, his eyes unchanging from their usual intense gaze, as the problem teammate seemed to address the rest of his allies in a more friendly manner. All was well in the state of Red Team. “As for you, grey one, I agree that there could be interesting combinations, though I warn you, if your arm or leg are connected directly to a ligament, nerve ending, tendon, muscle, or any kind of ball-and-socket joint, I feel my semblance would do more harm than good. It only works on the whole of an object, not individual parts, so the odds are it would destroy your shoulder and hip.”

The faunus shook his head, his voice lessening in intensity, but not volume, as he stooped over to get closer to his teammate. “Also, you may have forgotten, but you have not told us your name, comrade. That, and I would not recommend ignoring the red-haired Amy. She seems as though she is irritated with you. I would address that.” He ended with the best wink he could manage, closing both of his eyes, left cheek twitching slightly.
I leave town for TWO days and the discord drops with five posts in the air and everybody stripping. NANI the FUCK guys

Physical Education
Team: Maybe not the Best, but Definitely Better than the Other Team Team

Listening to his teammates speak, Blaine gave them his utmost attention. This was made manifest in an unblinking stare, his stone brow knit together in the world’s single most intense gaze, unbroken by the womanflesh before him. Admiration could wait for a different time, now was football.

The small, belligerent man made a good point, though he seemed abrasive. That could be a problem. More so, the room suddenly became very hot as it dawned upon the faunus that he had failed to make his introductions. Blithering fool! How can you win a good first impression if they’ve no names to align with you? Blast! In the midst of his own berations, his gaze bore a large hole into the floor, a small vein beginning to pulse in his forehead as his vision stabbed the earth. He panicked internally, the only external hint of tension a single bead of sweat, ever so slowly making its way down his stoic cheek. In this state, he raised his eyes, lips pursed, the words on the tip of his tongue as he struggled to address those around him. His mouth was dry and the ill-fitting uniform seemed to tighten around his throat like a wounded lover, one of the buttons straining to hold the collar shut around his tree trunk neck.


Speak, damn you!

“I… am Blaine.” He paused, glancing as the group of expectant faces bore down on him, his voice being drug from his throat, slow and forced, like cattle to slaughter. “Big man is also acceptable. I am quite large. My Semblance makes things I touch larger or smaller while I touch them, in both mass and volume.” Another pause as he looked around, gaining confidence as the lack of torches and pitchforks became evident. A tiny rip indicated the expulsion of a button from his collar, allowing sweet, cool air to brush his neck. It was appreciated, though he would have to sew it back on at a later time. Stooping down to pick up the offending button and set it inside his breastpocket, the faunus continued, his voice settling into place like an old bull out to pasture, or James Earl Jones after a lunch break.

“Offense is doable, as I would prefer to be farther from our own goal in order to prevent use of my stature for marks by our scantily clad opponents. I will prevent our ballhandlers from being struck down best as I can. Shepherding, as it is stated on the rulesheet. Through my fellow offenders' feet, we will all march to glory.”

"I also believe that if they attempt to distract us with pleasures of the flesh, we may should try the same, captain Ben and second in command Luke. I believe that our coach most likely had a prior manner of identifying who is on which team, such as colored flags. With this in mind, I offer the idea of our most attractive removing their clothes as well. It may help us in the long run."

Hesitating for a moment, the faunus pressed on. His eyes were now focused on the one who previously spoken, gray in attire, grim in attitude. Though he did not judge him, his words must be addressed. Blaine’s facial expression was yet to change, the vein in his forehead continuing it's steady rhythm. “Additionally, I think we would be best served by keeping your powerful limbs in the back, grey one, where we need to be able to launch the ball downfield. I would refer to you as your name, but you had not given one. This is also to contend with your poor attitude and what I perceive as a lack of true confidence, going by your apathetic tone and rudeness to your own teammates, as well as our second-in-command. With all due respect, you sound as though you try to make up for something. Not to be rude. I often have problems with speaking to groups myself, so there is no need to be shy. Even if no one else does, I believe in you, despite your stature and lack of common manners.”

Internally, Blaine pumped his fist. His introductions seem to have gone quite well. Still, he would have to do his best to reassure the estranged teammate, let he think the faunus's words were meant to be aggressive. The last thing he wanted today was to be making enemies. In this state of mind, he offered his kindest smile, flashing his sharpened canines through the parting of his lips. It was obviously forced, but hopefully got the message across.

Physical Education
Team: Best Team

Stepping forward into the huddle, Blaine stooped down to join the rest of his team. He felt like he should say something, but had only had a little time to glance at the rules of this sport before the team was called to rally. Glancing around, he could tell that overall they were an athletic group, but no one particularly stood out. Or rather, it was that they all stood out, a motley crew, as should be expected.

Blaine took a deep breath, exhaling with closed eyes. It was his first day here, and already he had no clue what was going on. That wasn’t entirely unexpected, but he needed to try his damndest to make a good impression. Think, damn it all! His fists clenched and his jaw tightened, sharp canines showing in a slight grimace. Glancing up, his brows furrowed in an intense stare, he locked his gaze upon the black-haired student who had spoken. An idea had struck. “Team captain, I’ve a plan. We take the ball and bull-rush down the middle, our staunchest blasting through their opposition with extreme prejudice. While this occurs, we fake a pass to one of our easily concealed teammates, in truth pressing on with our forward offense. It would require our strongest and most agile, but I believe it has a strong chance of success. Overall, we do seem to carry a size advantage. What say you?”

The faunus spoke with a voice like a gravel suspended in molasses, deep baritone rumbling out from his throat. His eyes blazed with an inextinguishable fire. Blaine had forgotten to introduce himself or ask for his teammates’ names, but all was forgotten in the face of glory. By the way Coach Roy Roy Fitzroy spoke, this was serious business. Blaine would not fail his allies. Not today. Not ever.

For him, this was war.

This was football.
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