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    1. Tominas 7 yrs ago

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6 yrs ago
Current Weak tea is for weak people
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6 yrs ago
Finals are finished, clouds disperse, CHRISTMAS COMES FOR US ALL
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6 yrs ago
Finals begin, black clouds gather, fridge is empty, need a rez
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7 yrs ago
Exams initiated, self-destruct protocol next in queue
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Laoshan Fang
Ba Sing Se, 8 Path Prison: Northeast.


Mentions: @Dblade26@Korkoa





This was more than he was used to.

It seemed like Ba Sing Se had gone through a change in management, at least in the prison system. For one thing, there were more chains in this cell than Laoshan was used to. Usually, for non-violent misdemeanors they bound their hands and kept some benders on the prison staff. Simple stuff.

Not the case today. Today, He hung from the ceiling, arms pressed to his side and his body encased in a suit of iron links. Odd. Still, nothing the usual tricks couldn’t fix. Closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, the airbender opened his left hand, flexed a few times. Fingers were still free. Idiots.

This next portion was the hard part, made him glad he did his breathing exercises after he was kicked out. He started easy, pushing hard with the exhale and pulling in deep with the inhale. The chains started to move, ever so slightly. He could feel the air flow through his beard, his hair as he picked up momentum, increasing the speed and depth of his breaths. The monks always said that a clean shaven head was better for this kind of thing, but that was a load of garbage if you asked Laoshan. The wind jetting through his mane while he flew on his glider, clouds parting in his wake, it always felt so free… Just like he was about to be.

The breaths formed a small gust, but that was all he needed to get started. He directed it with each breath, in, out, back, forth, until the air in his cell was moving all together. His body rocked back and forth in his chains, pulling tighter and tighter against his body by the push and pull of the newfound current. If he was less sturdy, this would’ve been really damn painful.

Fortunately for him, Laoshan was built like a small mountain and twice as stubborn.

At this point, the chains were beginning to feel the stress. The former monk’s body was held completely taut, muscles hard as granite as he kept breathing, red-faced and strained, the iron digging itself into his flesh as his restraints jangled and tightened. The monk pushed himself more and more, back and forth, until he heard the groans from the metal. Chains creaked, bolts complained, and most importantly, his restraints were beginning to loosen from all the frantic back and forth… just enough for him to do what he needed to.

Fun thing about Earth Kingdom protocol was that they bound hands together with cuffs, where each hand could reach the other. Usually not a problem, but most prisoners didn't know the proper way to dislocate their thumbs.

After loosening things up and popping a few joints, a little bit of wiggling and a great load of oaths, the monk stepped free from the chains, the last of his bonds clattering to the floor. After that, all there was to do was wait for mealtime. A guard would have to open the door sooner or later…



Huan was a simple man.

He kept his nose clean, stayed out of trouble for the most part, and over the course of some forty-odd years, he had managed to make his family relatively happy with a prestigious position in Ba Sing Se’s guard. When the forces of Warlord An attacked, he had defended the city as best he could, but at the end of the day he surrendered with everyone else. Short on manpower for the full management of the city, a good bit of the old guard was recycled, not like they cared about regimes. Huan personally was promptly put back in position as a guard in the Northeast Penitentiary of the Eight Path Prisons, where he was in charge of benders. Pretty simple. Keep ‘em chained, keep ‘em out of trouble. Who knew, if things stayed simple, he might even get a promotion at some point. 'Warden Huan,' he liked the sound of that. As he sat down outside of the stairs to Cold Storage, he blew over the top of his cup of tea and shivered. Part of him always felt bad for the firebenders, but it was infinitely worse for the other poor bastards that got thrown in the river from time to time... Still, though he knew it was selfish, Huan couldn't help but be glad it wasn't him. He was cozy out here, with hot tea, 3 square meals a day, and a good job.

For just one moment, the world was gonna be okay for Ol' Huan. Then there was a deep, slow rumble, accompanied by the sound of distant shouting.

After that, the world exploded.

The door from the non-bending section of the prison rocketed off its hinges with the shrill complaint of shredding metal, the hulk of iron slamming against the wall and falling against the opposite side of the hallway with a series of clangs. Huan let off a high-pitched shriek, his voice cracking like the teacup he dropped at his feet as he scrambled to grab hold of the spear he had left beside him, getting stuck briefly in his chair as his feet refused to cooperate. Through the wreckage at the end of the hallway, he could see a single, unsteady figure lumbering through the newly christened portal, a full head taller than Huan himself and covered in dirt and grime. The figure smiled grimly, yellow teeth showing through a wrankled grimace. His knuckles were bleeding slightly, a substantially whiter tooth than his own wedged into one of his hands. “You’re going to want to move, little man.”

“H-halt! By order of Soon-to-be Earth King An, Leader of Ba Sing Se, Lord of Stone, B-bearer of the Eternal M-mountaaaiiEE!” Huan’s feet flew up and his head flew down as the disgusting monk launched across the room like a smelly freight train, propelled by a sudden gout of hurricane-force winds and twirling like a drunken dervish. The bulky man spun on his heel, shattering the spear’s haft with a strong chop from his left hand and closelining the guard with his right. The guard only had time to make a muffled ‘eep’ through the fabric covering the sweaty vagrant’s elbow before his face hurtled towards the ground, kissing the earth at about thirty miles per hour.

It was a good thing Huan was wearing a helmet, or the concussion from his resulting impact with the ground would’ve ended him. Instead, he merely lay prone, clutching his bleeding face and groaning. Not quite dead. Laoshan nodded as curtly as he could manage through his headache, satisfied with himself. “Purely lethal technique, my blackened, ashen backside…”

Bending over, Laoshan patted the guard down for a moment before finding what he was looking for. As he straightened up, the airbender stumbled for a second, steadying himself against the wall and gritting his teeth as he rubbed his temples. Fucking withdrawal… how long had it been since his last drink? Two days, three? Too damn long.

With a click of the key and a creak from its hinges, the door in front of the mendicant opened, letting a cold gust of air flooding up from the stairs leading down. Earthbenders… always with the underground chambers, always the blasted restraints and stone and rock... Utterly unnecessary.

Laoshan pulled the keys from the door and began to head down. The nonbenders should’ve been rushing the courtyard by now, trying to find some guards to take hostage. Personally, he didn’t think the administration under this new Earth King would give a damn, but who knew? In the meantime, the monk was going to try his luck with some REAL firepower. Heh. Firepower.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Laoshan muttered to himself as he flipped through the dense ring of keys before finding the correct fit. This door was the heaviest he had run across yet, undecorated, iron, and heavy as a bitch. He frowned for a moment, considering the hulk before him. After a moment's consideration, the airbender braced himself against the door, leaping into the air, twisting his body, and letting off a staunch airblast from the dirty soles of his dirty feet. The portal shot open, the stone of the stairs behind him cracking beneath the force of Laoshan's demonstration.

Improvising to protect his head, the nomad twisted the air around him, convincing his body to perform a small flip and land on its feet. He only staggered a little bit. Solid six point landing.

Brushing himself off, the former monk began to examine the room. The only light that showed anything was the glint of torches from the stairway, all fire kept away from this place. Still, garnering a bit from what he did see, there were rows upon rows of metal doors standing in stone, and… the sound of rushing water? More than that, this chamber was freezing. Additionally… he couldn’t hear any prisoners. Usually they cried out, rattled their chains, complained about the food, something. This was… unnatural. Still, Laoshan was here for back-up, and if anyone was still alive and kicking he was going to snag them.

“Oy! If you’re breathing, sign off! A certain man by the name of Laoshan Fang is running a hard jailbreak, and you lucky sops are about to benefit from his great magnanity and desire to get just, so far away from here. We’ve got keys if you’ve got an able body. Any takers?”

@Bluetommy


@Bluetommy I like the idea of a discord, i think it would make things go a good bit smoother.

Unrelated, writing up CS tonight, 's gonna be a drunken-fist prison-going airbender. Hopefully up to snuff

EDIT: I'm a bloody fool who didn't realize the discord was up the entire time : P
Color me interested, if you've still got some room. Depending on how other characters play out, I'm thinking either a hardcore peregrine knight-type air/firebender looking to better his bending with travel, or a world-weary alcoholic water bender with a strong sense of "fuck it." Honestly I've got like six ideas, just depends on what other people play.
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.
@Sola
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.

Unthinkable.

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.
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