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In The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning. → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse

While it was disappointing that Radvi was the one answering her questions now, Keaton was distracted by the revelation that Arianna was responsible for the breakout a month ago. That Keaton’s power confirmed Radvi’s guess didn’t help her case of wanting to hear Arianna out, given the number of deaths that had resulted from the breakout. The chance that there was a cause to justify loosing criminals, murderers, and worse on a population of kids was slim to none, but it wasn’t none. It depended on what Arianna knew, then, and given the limited information the Faceless were willing to provide, Keaton was willing to risk getting more puzzle pieces from a risky source.

The chip Radvi produced was something Keaton instantly wanted. It’d help her locate Arianna, help her track down the parahuman who’d managed to elude everyone on board The Promise for more than a month. What held her back, though, were the strings Radvi had attached to the program on the chip—strings Keaton could only admit were smarter than she’d thought him capable of. Alerting everyone as soon as a chip was tripped made it pointless for her purposes since she didn’t know how much time she wanted with Arianna. At the very least, Keaton assumed it’d take more than a few minutes to approach and establish some form of trust with the elusive criminal, and the chip didn’t allow for that. Plus, there was the fact that Radvi had turned up nothing after an entire month despite him actively trying to find Arianna. Though the upcoming celebration sounded like the perfect time for someone to crash the party, it was also a bit too contrived and thus expected since it was fairly obvious that the cops would be on high alert for foul play during the festivities. Being distracted when people expected them to be would be a mistake, and they had seven years of practice and the glaring reminder from last month to motivate them.

The arrival of another police officer sent Freaky-D running, which prompted Radvi and the Faceless to leave as well. As much as Keaton would’ve liked to stop them to ask more questions, she’d already asked the important ones. Their answers pointed her towards new sources, and she was going to tap those as soon as she deemed it safe and possible.

“Real unlucky,” Keaton said after Archie echoed the word. That everything only started going wrong after they’d arrived on the ship was a bit too coincidental to look past. Had some catalyst of sorts arrived with them? Arianna, or someone—something else?

Eli’s words drew Keaton’s attention away from the chip and to Archie’s hand. A bruise? But Eli had said to run it under water. A burn—Lynn. Intentional? Doubtful. He’d chased after her when it was obvious she was close to snapping, which was as dumb as it was sweet. Keaton hadn’t had the same instinct, with the Faceless dangling the possibilities of answers in front of her, and perhaps she could put that down to a sense of self-preservation or a feeling that chasing after Lynn while she was agitated would achieve nothing. More importantly, though, was the fact that it only made sense for Keaton to stay back and question the Faceless. That way, she wouldn’t be coming up empty-handed when Lynn cooled down.

While Keaton kept a poker face as Archie invited Natalie to talk privately, she was both surprised and amused by how much he stumbled over his words. This wasn’t the first time he’d done so, after all, and Keaton had to wonder briefly how close they’d gotten during the past month. She’d been skimping on spending time with them, partially to avoid involving them in what she and Lynn were up to, so she wasn’t too well-informed on their relationship status. Judging by how awkward the whole thing with Eli had been, she’d assumed that they weren’t dating, and—no, no they weren’t. From what she knew of them, they balanced each other out weirdly, with their powers. Still, they both carried sizable baggage on their own, and the notion that people healed better together made for messy, dependent relationships. That said, they seemed cute together, and Keaton figured that The Promise needed a little more optimism and happiness.

“Natalie, you should probably keep the chip,” Keaton said, sliding the chip over to Natalie before she could leave with Archie. “You’d have a better chance with her than me. Both with surviving and bringing her in.”

Keaton stood after that, not wanting to give Natalie a chance to offer her the chip for whatever reason. As much as Keaton’s powers might help with locating Arianna, it stood that Keaton had no way to bring Arianna in, so Natalie keeping the chip only made sense. In the meantime, there was the intriguing new face of Eli, who was an untapped source of knowledge. Though Keaton already had a relatively clear picture of the ship’s past, there was always a chance for more information, and four years of first-hand experience made Eli a good source for that.

“I’m going to head off too, then. Eli, right? Are you sticking around?” Keaton asked. Retrieving her phone, she held it out to Eli with a smile. “Let’s keep in touch. I’d love to hear more about how The Promise is and all, and you sound like the perfect person to ask if you’ve already been here for four years.”
In Pokémon: Start → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Eryn Montero
Trial of Fear || Day 4: Evening || @PlatinumSkink

“Damn it,” Eryn cursed, spotting the Nuzleaf responsible for the eerie sound. That’s what she got for not properly reading all the Pokedex entries before charging in.

Glancing around, she realized that the Murkrow and Sableye had started to close in, the former black in the trees and the latter identifiable by the gleams of their faceted eyes catching light from Dei’s flame. Was there a way around them? Something she could do to get herself out of her current predicament, which seemed to be worsening by the second?

Her eyes flicked between the wilds around her, which she could barely make out under the moonlight filtering through the trees. In the air, the rustling of leaves and branches was muted under the song the whistling Nuzleaf was playing, which was difficult to ignore. What were her options? Why were there so many wilds in these woods? And why was it so hard to concentrate with that damn tune in the background?

“Hey, quit it, would you?” Eryn yelled at the Nuzleaf at the tree. “I get it, you’re drawing your friends over, but let me handle that! You just sit back and watch!”

Whether or not the Nuzleaf stopped, shouting seemed to have helped clear Eryn’s head a bit, and she glanced around again, focusing on her thoughts this time. The Murkrow were a flighty crowd, but they were mighty in number. While they had no real reason why they’d attack her, neither did any of the other Pokemon. Same for the Sableye, which Eryn had encountered before in the Wet Caverns. Though they were rather mischievous, they usually kept to themselves, especially where the wild Onix were concerned. Why were they targeting her, then? Nuzleaf weren’t exactly known to be dangerous, wild-triggering Pokemon, so it couldn’t be that. Besides, Eryn’s own Pokemon would have been similarly affected if that were the case.

Her eyes drifted up to Dei, who sat atop her head calmly, having ceased his Ember when she’d stopped running. Though he looked a bit unsettled, the emotion that came across more clearly was annoyance, marked by the pointy-toothed scowl he had on his face.

“Oh, the Ember. That’s what’s attracting them, huh?” Eryn said, glancing around at the shadows that were creeping ever closer. “Sorry about that, you all. I guess I got so caught up in trying to pass the trial and catch up to the Trial Master that I forgot to stop and think how you all would feel if I brought a fire-breather in here.”

Smiling, Eryn glanced up at Dei again, who was now looking down at her with a rather confused look. “Nope, no more Embering until someone really deserves it, Dei.”

Movement from Eri caught Eryn’s attention, and she glanced at the direction he pointed to see an Arbok slithering towards her, scales shiny under the moonlight. Considering its very pointed direction, Eryn wouldn’t have been surprised if it were the Arbok she’d loosed Peri on earlier. She hadn’t exactly stopped to look where that Arbok had gone, after all, and if it was the same Arbok, she needed to move fast.

“Alright, again, sorry about the whole thing. I’ll—what did that sign say again—try ‘avoiding’ this time, so excuse me,” Eryn said, glancing around for some gap in the shadows. As soon as she located one, which took her back towards the original straight-forwards path she’d been trying before the whistle interrupted her, she started off, this time at a brisk, controlled pace that landed between walking and jogging to keep her team ahead of the Arbok behind them. ‘The Trial of Fear’—Eryn should have known that it’d be a test of will and wit rather than strength and speed. Hopefully she’d realized quickly enough, though, and hopefully the wilds around her currently accepted her apology.



In The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning. → 4 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse

Keaton watched the video Freaky-D presented with some amount of surprise. The staff had a face to work with, and yet they still weren’t able to apprehend the culprit? Why did they think roping a crew of kids into the investigation would make a difference then? If anything, the Faceless’ answers revealed a whole host of absurd hunches they had, from thinking there was a Promise-ending disaster on the horizon to believing a band of mostly underage parahumans could do anything to help bring in a criminal who’d eluded the ship’s entire security force. Of the names they’d named, Archie and Natalie were hired muscle, and Lynn was a strange spread but still combat-based. Eli and Radvi were unknowns, and Keaton was useless without information—something the Faceless didn’t seem too concerned with providing her. The questions of ‘why them’ and ‘why now’ were answered by unsupported hunches, according to the Faceless, and although Keaton knew they were telling the truth, that fact only made things harder to understand. There were two concerning possibilities here: That these two were merely messengers and were operating on limited information, or that these two had been deceived so they could deliver a faulty story. Not allowing the people they believed to be key for saving The Promise from certain doom to talk to the person in charge wasn’t exactly great for facilitating friendly relations. Anonymity was as powerful as it was suspicious, and the ‘rules’ they mentioned only made the whole thing sound more foreboding.

Perhaps Keaton was being paranoid. Perhaps the Faceless truly represented the staff when they said they wanted to help. Nothing about this scenario made anything better, and if she were to believe it when the opposite were true, she’d end up in a much worse situation than she was in now. Playing it on the safe side wasn’t the most efficient, but being wrong? Being wrong was much, much worse.

Following along the stream of possibilities, perhaps there was a reason why it was the Faceless who’d been sent to deliver the message instead of the person in charge. Keaton’s power would prevent them from lying, so sending an envoy who didn’t have all the facts would allow them to check her and manipulate the narrative if she wasn’t careful. As for why they’d chosen this group specifically, the Faceless had completely skirted the question. The whole ‘chosen ones’ gimmick they were selling was so ridiculous Keaton was almost tempted to rule it as true just because it’d be the worst story they could have went with if it weren’t. But, even if it were true, there was nothing to say that it was the whole story. Perhaps the group was chosen because of some precognitor the staff had employed, or perhaps it was because at least one of them had something on the staff. If the latter were true, however, it’d call into question why the Faceless had approached a group instead of just the one person. Was it to decrease suspicion so they could better sell their story? Or was it to nip all the possible buds they could and ensure that there was no way the threat could persist?

Whatever the case, Keaton wasn’t about to share any information she and Lynn had dug up. Too much was still up in the air for her to trust that they weren’t going to off her another day. Her power could tell her whether or not someone was lying about wanting to kill her, but that someone could change their mind too. Until the staff presented an airtight story that her power could verify, complete trust wasn’t on the table.

While she didn’t trust the staff, though, she could pretend to, at least to a reasonable extent. The Faceless were being honest, and while they hadn’t exactly made themselves vulnerable by revealing their power, they’d also told the truth about Cara. Caroline Fuller—hopefully she’d be more helpful than these two. Though Keaton hadn’t spent the most time talking to Cara, given the possibility of surveillance and censorship, she would definitely be checking the amount of control Caroline had over her faculties. That the staff didn’t have full control over her was thrilling since Caroline would be an invaluable ally when it came to getting information, but this all hinged on Caroline being trustworthy, and that was a problem for later.

The reasoning the Faceless gave for The Promise’s criminal population, on the other hand, was ridiculous. Rehabilitating a gang leader like Salamandra was a scandal in the making, if word ever got out, and there was no reason why the ‘party’ in charge couldn’t have just built another facility. That they’d chosen to combine the facilities just went to support the working theory that The Promise’s whole rehabilitation schtick was a cover-up for whatever else was going on. The note that the ‘party’ was more concerned about humans than parahumans was interesting, though Keaton had no way of verifying it’s true veracity without the party present. As for pursuing it further, well, Keaton was going to pass. The entire story smelled of lies, and even though Keaton couldn’t confirm anything with her power, she’d be damned if she trusted anything the Faceless had to say on the subject at face value.

Regarding the footage Freaky-D showed, there was little to ask. Radvi had known who the culprit was, had been possession of a jar of DNA for nearly a month now, and the woman, Arianna, had managed to elude him the entire time. Eli was right to ask, but Keaton wasn’t expecting much from the cop. Whatever he’d done with the jar, it clearly hadn’t helped. On the other hand, that Archie was able to identify Arianna was interesting. Why had she approached him? To say hello? Keaton didn’t believe in coincidences, and that was a hell of a coincidence.

“Arianna—do you know who she is? Are there files on her, who she is and why she’s here? And why has she been able to avoid detection for so long? What about the surveillance cameras?” Keaton asked, turning to the Faceless. “Surely there’s more information on her, if she’s been here for longer than we have? What does she want, and why? And is she working alone?”

And is she really who we should be fighting against? Keaton wanted to ask. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ or so the saying went, and from another angle, Arianna was a capable figure fighting against The Promise for reasons unknown. That the narrative the Faceless presented could be a front to get the group to solve their problems for them couldn’t be ignored, and in more ways than one, Arianna seemed like she’d have better answers to Keaton’s questions.
In The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning. → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse

Things were great for a few minutes. Keaton, having finished her pretzel segment, introduced herself to Eli with a wave and a friendly smile, her eyes flickering between Archie and Natalie. Though the two seemed to be trying to cover up whatever they had going on, a few stray glances and nervous fidgets spoke volumes for Archie. Natalie was a harder read, but only for a moment. As soon as Archie’s actions cleared up, so did the conflicted expression she had on as she looked at Eli. At this point, teasing them would have been easy, but Radvi was still around, which encouraged Keaton to keep her thoughts limited to an amused smile. There’d be time for that later.

Radvi trying to leave was when things started going downhill. Just as Keaton started to register relief, it was gone, replaced by icy fear as two slenderman figures with all the normal proportions yet none of the normal features flashed into existence at Radvi’s side. A flash of heat prompted her to shy away from Lynn, who had lit up in anger, but Keaton was too busy in her own mind to dwell on it. For a moment, she feared the worst: that Lynn had been right, that the invisible man had already cut his losses, that this was the end. Transfixed, Keaton watched the black and white duo speak, watching them trade off sentences of apology and introduction, which were polite enough to tell Keaton that they were trying to sound honest. That wasn’t to say that they were being honest, though, and their lack of facial features, body language, and other visible tells wasn’t giving Keaton much to work with. It wasn’t until Freaky-D dropped down from the sky—the second story of the mall, by the looks of a few interested shoppers behind the railings above—that Keaton registered Radvi’s shock, registered that she wasn’t about to be arrested, that the Faceless pair weren’t here to take her and Lynn in. There were far easier ways of doing that, and none of them involved polite introductions and a public encounter like the one in the mall here. In fact, the mall was far too public a place for the staff to try and vanish anyone, unless they had the means to quarantine and replace a good portion of the population on board. So, no, Keaton wasn’t about to be arrested. The Faceless pair were opening themselves up for questions, for whatever reason, and Keaton would be lying if she said she didn’t want answers.

Listening to Lynn and Natalie’s outbursts, Keaton ran them over mentally for gaps—for things they wouldn’t cover, for things that still needed to be addressed. What was her angle for this? Play dumb and passively gather information? Assume this duo was likely omnipresent and was just doing this as a test, a means to gauge the degree to which Keaton and Lynn were willing to go? Lynn storming away uninterrupted was more proof that the pair didn’t come to the mall to arrest anyone, but that didn’t mean they were on anyone’s side either. They were part of the staff, and Keaton wasn’t about to trust them on anything, especially without confirmation. Thankfully, there was something her powers could check that was more accurate than physical tells: cold, hard facts.

Eli’s hesitation was vastly overshadowed by her request. ‘I want to ask the person that you answer to’—Keaton’s brows shot up at the comment, her eyes flickering between the Faceless again for answers that they weren’t yet providing. Were they even human? Either way, there was no way she was leaving the sanctuary of publicity before she got solid answers she could check. The chance of the Faceless leading her to some dark alley to off her first chance they got felt a lot higher than zero, and this encounter seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime, life-or-death opportunity.

“Letting us know who we’ll ultimately be helping is important, but so is winning our trust. Why should we trust you? Why do you see us as ‘core components’?” Keaton asked, looking between the Faceless. “Trust is a two-way street, so if you could explain in a way that helps us come to the same conclusion, that would be great.”

Keaton was referring to her power, and she had no doubt that the Faceless understood that. As staff members, they had access to her files, and if they’d really been as interested as they said, they would have done their homework—known that in Keaton’s world, everything was flimsy unless her power confirmed it. Of the people still left at this table, there was only one person Keaton trusted: Herself, because her power was the only thing that would never directly lie.

“A few more things. To confirm, were you in the room during Lynn’s interview? If you don’t mind me asking, could you explain why you were able to do that, able to watch us in this mall and know precisely when and where we’d all be gathered together if you can’t even locate a suspect for a staff murder?” she asked. “And why was Salamandra aboard the ship? She was arrested years ago, and there was absolutely no reason she shouldn’t have been sentenced to death. Why was she aboard this ship? Why were any of those criminals who escaped last month aboard this ship?”

At this point, Salamandra was public knowledge. Cara’s cameras ensured that, just as they ensured that the staff had every other piece of information available to them, which is why Keaton had one last request to make.

“And, one more thing: If you want us to dig up information for you, want us to share everything we might have or find, how about you give us access to everything you have first? If we’re really so key to this all, really so ‘core’ as you claim, surely we deserve to be on a level playing field with you?” she asked, her gaze transitioning slowly between the Faceless. “Give us access to Cara—not the censored, tame program you have installed all over the ship. The real deal. The one that has access to the cameras, the files, and everything else we might need. Give us what we need to help you."

The Faceless were going out a limb, coming here and asking for help, so it was clear that this group’s involvement mattered somehow. The questions, then, were why—why this group, why now, why like this—and how—how much they mattered. Because, fortunately or not, it seemed they mattered a lot.
In The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning. → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse

Keaton didn’t like calling herself chatty, but if she was honest, she could be. Spending a lot of time talking to people did that. With most people she’d talked to in the last few weeks, though, Keaton had to constantly stay aware of what she was saying, picking and choosing her words so that they’d feel comfortable enough to open up to her. Lynn was different. Around her, Keaton could be honest, be herself and prattle on about whatever was on her mind as long as it was within reason. Sure Lynn seemed to zone out a few times while Keaton talked, but Keaton didn’t mind. Hearing about her classes and everyday going-ons was bound to get old at one point, and Keaton only had to keep up the conversation until they reached the mall.

During the past few weeks, Keaton had gone to the mall quite a few times. The number of people cycling through every day made it a good spot to meet new people, and the stores and food court gave Keaton excuses to stick around the place. In terms of actually shopping, Keaton had bought only a few basics, including another denim jacket to replace the one at the back of her closet. Most of her money went to buying food when she hung around the mall, which was fine by her. There was nothing for her to save up for around The Promise, so although she retained a habit of saving a portion of her paycheck, the portion was small enough that she had some money to go around.

When Lynn pointed out the Auntie Anne’s, a grin lighting her face, Keaton was a bit surprised. Of all the foods that Lynn could have had a soft spot for, it was pretzels? Something in the past, then.

Unfortunately, Keaton didn’t get too long to dwell on it, with Lynn sprinting away before she finished her sentence. Looking ahead, Keaton saw the reason behind her anger: Archie, seated beside a pretty girl, was being approached by Radvi, of all people. Her surprise was replaced by fear as she stared at the cop, uniform and all. He was on duty, so why was he talking to Archie? And who was that girl beside Archie? She knew Radvi, but she was a civilian, not a cop. What was her connection to the two then? Had Keaton and Lynn been found out? The invisible man, realizing he’d been made, had decided to turn them in and cut his losses?

Exhaling, Keaton forced herself to take a step back mentally. There were more questions to ask than the ones she couldn’t get answers to. Judging by his surprise, Archie hadn’t expected Radvi, and he didn’t know the girl well either. The handshake—he met her just now. The girl was surprised too—knew Radvi, but wasn’t in league with him. Since Radvi’s glasses covered his eyes, and Keaton couldn’t get a good read on him, but his lack of reinforcements said he wasn’t there to bring in Archie, wasn’t there because Archie was. A coincidence? How utterly convenient.

Keaton relaxed a bit, looking around for where Lynn had gone. Instead, she spotted Natalie, who seemed to be heading towards a Bath & Body Works, of all places. Tracing the direction she was heading in allowed Keaton to spot Lynn, whose almost unnaturally yellow hair gave her away despite the fact that Keaton could barely see her behind the display shelves. The two started talking, and Keaton figured she’d give them some space. The less Lynn had to focus on at once, the better. Instead, Keaton headed for the Auntie Anne’s, placing an order for a pretzel bucket. If Lynn didn’t eat it all, maybe Keaton could get her to share it with the others. That was a big maybe, but the headway she was making with Lynn gave her hope.

Thanking the employee as she picked up the bucket of pretzel segments, Keaton turned and spotted Lynn heading over. With a grin, she walked over and pushed the bucket into Lynn’s hands. “Here, and Archie’s not snitching on us. Radvi, the cop, is here by coincidence, so we’re in the clear, and the girl sitting next to Archie is someone he just met. Hunches,” she said, shrugging before flashing Lynn a wry smile. “What do you say we go over there and try getting a leg up on the cops? Our text messages say we’re meeting Archie, so we have an excuse—and an obligation to show our faces now that we're in the mall.”

The last part what somewhat of an excuse, but Keaton didn't want Lynn running off again. This was the first time in a long while that the group had gotten together, and though there'd been rifts in the past, they'd been through a bit too much together to pretend to be strangers. Perhaps it was a desire to connect with the few people who could relate to the experiences she'd had so far, or perhaps it was her wanting to seek comfort in a friend group and do regular friend group things. Either way, Keaton wanted Lynn around for it, especially considering that she and Natalie seemed to have made up somewhat minutes ago. It was a bit selfish, but Keaton doubted that she'd get another chance to get Lynn in the mall again. In fact, if Lynn left associating the mall with patrolling cops, Keaton doubted whether she'd ever willingly step foot in the mall again, so a little selfishness was warranted right now.
In Naruto: Odyssey → 5 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Natsuko Rinha
Afternoon || Land of Fire: Konohagakure — Training Grounds

With a shout, Natsuko landed another kick on the tree she was training against, which shook on impact, leaves rattling. She paused a short distance away, panting but maintaining her form with a kunai in one hand. ‘Train,’ Minoru had said. ‘You have to have good form to attempt further learning.’ So, as he’d bid, here she was, grinding away against the most challenging opponent she could find on a regular basis. Telling herself that Kazuhiko and Koharu probably did just this back in the day was only half-encouraging, petering off into ‘not’ each time the ache of muscle exhaustion tried to settle in. Was landing kicks and punches on this tree really going to help her become better? It wasn’t moving or fighting back, which apparently made it the ideal practice partner for both form and bruises.

Slashing out with her kunai, she cleared another line or two of bark before jumping up and kicking off the tree, making sure to maintain her form as she landed, panting. Bruises and aches and pain be damned. If this was going to help her catch up to her teammates, Natsuko was going to do it. She could stand being called the weak link compared to the two heirs she had for teammates, but not weaker than her genin peers. No, compared to the other genin, Natsuko was average or above on the field, period.
Kazuhiko Taketori
Morning || Land of Fire: Konohagakure — Taketori Compound

“Otou-sama, Oji-sama,” Kazuhiko said, bowing.

“Kazuhiko, I heard you’re looking for a sensaigan tutor?” Kazuhiko’s uncle, Norima, asked as Kazuhiko straightened. Though Norima’s gaze held no malice, his tone and choice of words betrayed his faint resignation, which had stuck around ever since Kazuhiko proved himself a far better choice as heir than any of Norima own children. They’d proved to be weak competition, with Kazuhiko awakening his sensaigan far earlier his older cousins, and it’d been obvious who the true choice was once Kazuhiko enrolled as a genin.

This was all according to Kazuma, who stood beside his brother with folded arms, his face solemn and his gaze communicating his pride in his son. “Yes, Kazuhiko’s sensei made the recommendation since Kazuhiko has already mastered most of the basics.”

“Hm,” Norima said, rubbing his beard. Then, with a sigh, he nodded. “Good, good. One of the biggest criticisms I hear is that I’m not the strongest in the clan. Now, even though I would argue that strength isn’t related to leadership, I’m glad that you might not have that problem, Kazuhiko. Come, let’s talk to our clan’s strongest,” he said with a wry smile. “Hopefully he agrees to take you under his wing. He’s been getting more finicky in his old age, and, well, your father must have told you the rest.”

It was a short trek from the main hall to the dojo, and even from meters away, the sound of shouts and thwacks inside could be heard. When the trio entered, the source of the sound revealed itself: A group of civilians were practicing rudimentary taijutsu on wood dummies, shouting as they executed their kicks and punches.

“Hidemi!” Norima called.

The dojo master’s name faded into the roomy training hall, the combination of space and the sound of training quickly smothering it.

“Hidemi!” Norima repeated.

“Huh?” Slowly, the man laying on the bench beside the door sat up, scratching his head with a yawn. His clothes were wrinkled and faded, and more than a few day’s worth of stubble shone on his chin as he looked between the trio at the dojo door impassively. “Oh, Norima. What’dya want?”

“Hidemi, this is Kazuhiko. He’s looking for a sensaigan tutor,” Norima said, gesturing towards Kazuhiko.

“Please take care of me,” Kazuhiko said, bowing.

“Kazuhiko, huh,” Hidemi said, fixing Kazuhiko with an intense gaze that instantly melted into disinterest. “Well, don’t see why you’re telling me. You know I don’t train sensaigan anymore.”

“He’s the future clan heir, and he’s considered a genius in the village. Surely he’d pass live up to your standards?” Norima said. At his side, Kazuma’s blank face had just a trace of a frown, which fully encapsulated his displeasure in the situation. Kazuhiko lowered his eyes again, maintaining his bow.

“Nah,” Hidemi said with a wave of a hand. “Ask Genzo or Atomu.”

“Hidemi, I’m not asking,” Norima said with a frown.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hidemi said, yawning as he stretched his arms above his head.

“Hidemi-san, please give me a chance to prove myself to you,” Kazuhiko said, straightening to meet the man’s eyes.

Hidemi paused, retracting his arms with a wisp of a grin on his lips. “Oh? How ‘ya planning to do that?”

“I’ll fight—”

“Hah!” Hidemi slapped a knee, laughing. “That’s funny, boy, but save it.”

With that, he laid back down on the bench, his arms crossed behind his head and one leg propped on the other. Norima sighed, shaking his head.

“Let’s go find Atomu,” he said.
Natsuko Rinha
Noon || Land of Fire: Konohagakure — Main Streets

Natsuko pressed her forehead against the glass, looking at the mochi displays behind the glass longingly. Since her family had a cook who stopped by three times a day, Natsuko barely got any pocket money. According to her parents, this was fair; according to her, this was definitely not. Her monthly allowance was barely enough to cover three mochi days, and that was being generous. So she tended to go a bit overboard when ordering, but that was no excuse. That Kazuhiko had been willing to purchase her mochi not once but twice this month as a means to get her off his case meant that his pocket money was easily more than Natsuko’s. Now, the Taketori were a larger clan than the Rinha, but the Rinha pulled their weight and more economically. Something about having a widely-applicable kekkai genkai and being heavy on investments. Natsuko knew this much from basic clan heritage training, or whatever being forced to attend a few clan discussions was called. In her opinion, she deserved a little grease on her palm for patiently sitting through them, but apparently her parents disagreed.

“Natsuko?”

Turning around, Natsuko broke a grin as she recognized Mariko. “Mariko-chan! Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pick up some mochi for my younger brother. You?” Mariko asked, walking towards the shop entrance. “Did you run out of money again?”

“Hehe, what gave it away?” Natsuko asked, following after Mariko. “Say, Mari-chan, you wouldn’t happen to be in a generous mood, would you?”

Mariko turned around to give Natsuko the full view of her smile, which said nothing of the exasperation Natsuko was expecting and was therefore almost scarier. “Always, Natsuko. Come on, I’ll treat.”

“O-okay,”Natsuko said, a little surprised. Still, she quickly followed the Hyuga heiress into the shop, where her attention was quickly absorbed by the large menu with stylized font at one side of the main counter. Sakura, matcha, redbean—the choices varied by season, and Natsuko had yet to find a flavor she disliked.

“A box of strawberry red bean mochi, please, and—Natsuko, did you decide what you wanted?” Mariko asked.

“Y-yeah, can I get, um, a plate of sakura mochi and,” she said, glancing at Mariko, whose smile grew a teensy bit thinner but otherwise remained, “a plate of green bean ones?”

“One plate of sakura mochi and one of green bean mochi, please,” Mariko said, turning back to the clerk at the counter, who nodded, thanking her for her order before retreating into the back.

“Thank you, Mariko-chan!” Natsuko said, tackling Mariko with a hug that seemed to surprise the heiress for a second before she relaxed in Natsuko’s arms.

“No need to thank me, Natsuko-chan. Someone has to look after you while your teammates are busy,” she said, smile softening. Directing Natsuko to a seat at a table, she gestured for Natsuko to take a seat, only sitting after Natsuko did. “How have you been? I heard you’ve been spending some time at the training grounds.”

“Some? More like a ton. I’ve practically been living there, thanks to Minoru-sensei. He says it’s helping, but I can’t tell,” Natsuko said, huffing.

“I’m sure it is,” Mariko said, her smile saying nothing.

The clerk returned with two plates of mochi and a bag for Mariko, thanking the pair again before disappearing into the back. As soon as the clerk left, Natsuko zeroed in on the two plates of mochi before her, mouth watering. When was the last time she’d had mochi? She tended to want mochi right after a hard training session, and with Minoru pushing her to continue training, she’d had many such sessions, so her three mochi drops tended to happen right after she got her allowance. In such cases, Mariko and her teammates were like angels, offering to treat her or being forcefully roped into it. She should stop, she supposed, but she’d do so after she finished training. For now, she thought as she stuffed her first piece of soft, decadent sakura-flavored mochi into her mouth, she’d make the most of every chance she got.

“How are your teammates, Natsuko-chan?” Mariko asked, smile hooked slightly with amusement.

“Gooth.” She swallowed, clearing her throat sheepishly. “Good. They’re training a lot too, and with tutors. They’re working on their kekkai genkai, I think.”

“Hm,” Mariko hummed, eyes glinting. “Kazuhiko-kun’s working with a clan tutor then?”

“I think so. Some dude named A-something? Don’t remember,” Natsuko said, stuffing another piece of mochi into her mouth. Swallowing, she looked at Mariko inquisitively. “Mariko-chan, are you working on your byakugan?”

“That’s a secret,” Mariko said, giggling as Natsuko narrowed her eyes.

“Hmph. Well, at least you have good taste in mochi,” Natsuko said, then pushed a plate forwards. “Have some. I’m not going to not share with the person who bought me mochi.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Mariko said.

“I insist,” Natsuko said, mimicking Mariko’s airy tone.

The Hyuga heiress shot her a sharp look, then sighed. “Truth be told, I don’t like mochi.”

Natsuko’s mouth dropped open, half-chewed mochi and all. A flash of muted disgust from Mariko prompted her to quickly swallow, but there was a more pressing issue at hand.

“You don’t like mochi?” she demanded. “Why?”

“Well, I don’t love sweets, I suppose,” Mariko said, adjusting the bag on the table beside her.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. Here,” Natsuko said, picking up a piece of mochi, “open.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Open.”

“W-well, look at the time, I really must be going. It was nice talking to you, Natsuko. Hopefully we see each other again soon, and— eep—”

“Mariko! Mariko, you get back here right— damn it. Well, at least I have mochi.”

Kazuhiko Taketori
Afternoon || Land of Fire: Konohagakure — Taketori Compound

While Kazuhiko had hoped that Hidemi would be his tutor, he couldn’t be disappointed by Atomu, who was one of the foremost sensaigan tutors of the clan. After retiring from the Anbu—something that you could only say after the fact—he’d led a few classes in the academy before settling down in the clan dojo as a tutor. His many years of experience were clear from the way he practiced with Kazuhiko, though Kazuhiko often had to wonder whether Atomu was this picky with others. Even if he wasn’t, Kazuhiko didn’t mind; as heir, it was his job to set the standard and be the example, and he appreciated that Atomu wasn’t cutting him any slack.

“Focus! Picking out the main nerve branch is key, and you need to be able to do that in an instant. Layouts are different for different people, but they usually don’t differ that much,” Atomu said from where he couched, a kunai in one hand. “Try again. Be more precise.”

Circling him, Kazuhiko activated his sensaigan, Atomu’s web of nerves blinking into existence, the minor currents and ebbs glowing against the rest of the world, which was dark and rather mundane compared to the brightness of the pathways his dojutsu highlighted.

Atomu rushed at him, and Kazuhiko met him halfway, their kunais clashing as Kazuhiko stabbed his hand towards the thickest glow on Atomu’s free arm, which happened to be near Atomu’s shoulder. Though Atomu disengaged, hopping out of the way before Kazuhiko could reach him, he straightened as soon as he was out of range, nodding. “Good job. Let’s take a break.”

Kazuhiko relaxed, his sensaigan blinking out of existence as he registered just how tired he was, how the thin film of sweat on his skin had started sticking his clothes to him. While training, he’d barely noticed how much chakra he’d used, focusing only on getting used to the landscape his sensaigan afforded to him. Calling the dojutsu forwards required active effort on his part, as did maintaining it, but all of this was part of the training exercise. Atomu always had him working on multiple things at once, and Kazuhiko frequently found himself impressed at the exercises the past Anbu devised.

“You’re nearly there with navigating sensaigan sight, and you’ve started developing the instinct for nerve system layouts. Try checking out some medical nin materials for anatomy—it might help, it might not. Depends on how you learn, but I have a feeling it’d help you,” Atomu said, tossing a water bottle at Kazuhiko. “Genius for sure, Hidemi’s missing out.”

Kazuhiko nodded, taking a swig of water. The cold of the water helped the last of his panting subside, and he exhaled, looking to Atomu. “Why didn’t Hidemi want to teach me?”

Atomu paused mid-swig, lowering his water bottle to reveal a wry grin. “Hidemi’s a weird one. Believe it or not, it’s because he thinks teaching you will be boring,” he said, chuckling at Kazuhiko’s incredulous look. “Yeah, Hidemi’s probably bored out of his mind not teaching anyone, but that’s how he is. He’d rather stay lazy and bored than commit to boredom, or something like that.”

“He taught you, right? Back in the day?” Kazuhiko asked.

Atomu laughed. “Yeah, yeah he did. He was slightly more willing to take on students back then, but not really. He’s hard to convince because he won’t be straight with you unless he accepts you, and getting him to accept you is the hard part. For me back then, well, I was a terrible student when I was younger. Skipped class all the time, wanted to chase bugs and tease girls instead of going to class. Now, he took one look at me and said I’d never make it anywhere. That was disheartening, yeah, and I was so depressed I actually started going to class again. Didn’t have to motivation to go play. Now, he saw that and told me that was kinda surprising, but I’d need to do more. I didn’t understand at the time, but after some time mulling it over, it clicked: he wanted me to prove that I could be surprising. See, that’s the thing about Hidemi—he thinks predictable people are boring. It took me scoring first in my class multiple times to prove to him that maybe I had potential. So if you want to catch his attention, well, you need to do something surprising. Unpredictable. Something he’d never think you’d do. And you need to do it well—really well—and do it multiple times.”

Kazuhiko stared at him blankly, which prompted another laugh from Atomu.

“Now, I’ve no idea what Atomu wants from anyone, so that’s up to you to figure out. That’s how it works—you figure it out, and you prove to him that you’re not as predictable as you seem,” he said.

“Hidemi wants me to fail my missions?” Kazuhiko asked, bewildered.

“Well, no. In my case, I was a bad student, and I became good. That was self-improvement. Hidemi values accomplishment, if you’ll believe it, and you’re pretty much as accomplished as you can be at your age, which is why everyone’s confused why he didn’t take you on as a student.” Atomu shrugged. “I’ve no idea what he wants from you. Something surprising, but what, become our youngest jonin? Pass the chunin exams alone? No idea.”

Kazuhiko was silent as he processed this, staring down at the water bottle in his hands. Self-improvement? Chasing that was why he’d approached Hidemi in the first place. What more did the dojo master want from him, though?

“Right, let’s go one more round before dinner,” Atomu said, standing and looking Kazuhiko over. “I reckon you got enough for another few tries.”

“Yeah,” Kazuhiko said, standing as well. Self-improvement—he’d figure it out. Later, but he’d figure it out.

@Sunflower
In Pokémon: Start → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Eryn Montero
Route 5 || Day 4: Evening || @PlatinumSkink

When Eryn charged ahead, she’d expected to run into something, but not something so quickly or so angry as the Arbok that had slithered into the middle of the road. Though the large snake was intimidating, Eryn didn’t stop her pace, instead retrieving a Pokeball from her belt with a grin.

“Peri! Flatten!” she yelled, popping the button and pointing the Pokeball at the Arbok. Now, ‘Flatten’ wasn’t a move, and Eryn knew that. What she also knew, though, was that Peri was much bigger than the Arbok, baby or not, and when the light around the Onix dissipated, she almost felt a little bad for the Arbok under the loud thump that sounded.

“Thanks, Peri!” Eryn yelled, skirting the Onix as she ran past.

As soon as she was past the Arbok, she returned Peri, replacing the Pokeball on her belt with a grin. “Onwards!” she yelled, leading the charge ahead with Dei on her head and Kylie and Eri close behind.

In the air was the sound of a flute, which was a bit concerning. Was it one of those instruments that could affect Pokemon behavior? Only one way to find out.

“This way!” she yelled, turning to make a beeline for the direction the flute sound was coming from. “Trial Master, I’m coming for you!”



In Fire Emblem: Ashes of Sacrifice [Fall of the Empire] → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Branna Naves
Lothian Empire: Alymere Fort || Midday
As Mors busied himself with tearing pieces off his kill, Branna looked ahead to the two bandits charging towards her, a grin stretching across her features. Glancing back, she flashed her grin at the wyvernless rider, then patted Mors, hefting her spear. “Axe.”

Under her, Mors gave the corpse one last tear before lifting himself into the air, a broken limb dangling from his jaws. Swooping towards the brigand from a sharp angle, he roared, his trophy falling to reveal rows of blood-smeared teeth.

On his back, Branna bared her teeth as well, her grin curling upwards as she angled her spear. Mors wanted the first strike this time—and just as well. The cute little horserider had landed an arrow on the bandit already, and he trailed a bit behind the spear wielder, but attacking from above gave Branna the choice to choose her target. In this case, she chose the weaker one—the one who'd make a quicker meal, and the one who already smelled of blood. And Mors, having just had a taste, was famished.
_________________________

Status: Fine
Class: Wyvern Flier
Exp: 20/90
Inventory:
  • Iron Spear (3/3)
  • Vulnerary (3/3)

In The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning. → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse

Keaton looked up from her flashcards again. “And, Cara, no multiple choice?”

“No, Keaton. Now keep studying,” Cara’s voice said, light with amusement.

Pulling a face, Keaton turned back to her flashcards. Caissons, piles, properties of soil behavior—what did any of it matter? Even if she managed to get back to Earth, even if Cara’s bachelors and masters programs technically counted back in the states, and even if Cara could whip up an online version of the necessary examinations and simulate an internship for Keaton, no one would hire a parahuman as an architect. Best-case scenario, the government found a job for her helping people; worst-case scenario, she was shelved away to decode documents or interrogate people. Going along with Cara’s curriculum was a farce Keaton was forced to suffer through for the sake of seeming normal. To anyone who cared to look, she’d been attending all her classes, completing all her assignments and scoring well on her quizzes. That her tests were going to be short answer was a slight but mediated hindrance courtesy of Cara after the AI saw Keaton’s aptitude for multiple choice exams firsthand, but Keaton wasn’t gunning for high grades here. Graduate school was as useless to her now as the material before her. Even the most useful class, her power-focused class, was limited in its usefulness. Though the exercises the instructor came up with her every week were interesting and oftentimes revealing in terms of her power, highlighting its edges, limits, and strengths, every revelation came with a moment of dread as the instructor made note of them. Slowly, Keaton was exposing her power to the staff, sharing her weaknesses and answering questions the scientists back on Earth had been unable to answer. She’d considered failing a few exercises on purpose to throw the instructor off, but Keaton knew about as much about her powers as the staff did. Her attempts at deception could just as easily reveal something else about her and her powers, and the last thing she needed was for her to land doubt from the staff because she wasn’t practicing properly.

What she looked forward to, then, was chatting, and by ‘chatting’ Keaton meant ‘chatting up strangers to figure out what shady going-ons The Promise had been trying to cover up before she boarded.’ The whole debacle with Salamandra had shaken her up pretty good, and besides confirming that Keaton was probably going to die here on this ship, it confirmed that the ship was undoubtedly made for some purpose other than rehabilitating parahumans. What that other purpose was, Keaton was going to find out, having jumped at Lynn’s offer to collaborate and share information they uncovered. Talking to people had always been one of her strong points, and striking up conversations with random people at the grocery or bookstore was as easy as walking up to them and recycling some mundane conversation-starter. From there, a discussion on what movies were on at the moment would transition to how life usually was on The Promise, once Keaton mentioned that she was new and was having a little trouble settling in. She’d never been around so many parahumans, barely even known about her powers or wasn’t too confident about them like others. Then it was onto the whole prison escape, how scary it was, how Keaton was constantly afraid it would happen again. When they reassured her it wouldn’t, that it was a unique occurrence that had never happened before, Keaton would sigh in relief, noting how good that was to hear after she’d been told by an acquaintance that strange things had happened in the past too. Further reassurance would prompt her to ask whether strange things had actually happened, what they were and how they were resolved. And, after milking her naive front for all it was worth, she’d transition the conversation onto some other mundane topic before citing the need to run and meet a friend, waving and thanking them for their company as she left.

While the general sequence varied depending on the wariness of the person she was talking to, a little attentiveness and a few reassuring smiles went a long way when getting someone to open up, and she made sure to give each of her excursions a reason, be it something as simple as a caffeine drop or something as convoluted as getting lost on her way to a new restaurant she’d been ‘meaning to try.’ Her levels of wariness were approaching Lynn’s, she figured, but there were certainly worse places than The Promise to be paranoid. Aside from the cameras at every corner, there was Cara, an AI that had the potential to be near-omniscient on the ship. The staff could be watching her every movement, listening to her every word, and Keaton would never know. So, instead of knowing, she assumed: The staff was watching her, the ship had secrets to uncover, and she probably wasn’t getting out of here alive.

Assuming that she wasn’t getting out was for her own benefit. It took the burden off her shoulders in terms of self-preservation since self-preservation was telling her feigned ignorance was the key, and it made lying to her dad that much easier. If she wasn’t going to leave the ship, wasn’t ever going to see her father again, there was nothing wrong with letting him believe she was having a blast out in space. She put off calls, citing a busy class schedule and numerous social calls by new friends, inventing new roles for Archie the jock and Lynn the brainiac. Manning the bookstore desk took up the rest of her time, she said, because her powers could help connect people to exactly what they were looking for. She was a matchmaker for bookworms, and she loved it, she’d say, even if she spent most of her shifts filching information from the few people that stopped by. This way, her father was happy. Keaton knew that for a fact—just as she knew that he was still worried about her, knew that he still hadn’t moved anything in her room, knew that he was counting on her to return and inherit the ‘family business’ that was no more than a phone number, some connections, and some slick-talking.

An alarm went off on her phone, and she stood, stretching.

“Well, that’s enough studying for today. See you later, Cara,” she said, grabbing her bag and heading for the door.

“See you, Keaton,” the AI’s voice replied, echoing out from her phone, speakers, laptop, television, and everything else capable of producing sound. The worst part was that Keaton actually found her voice relaxing, if she didn’t think too hard about it, but that was only when Cara was talking.

Keaton & Lynn

With her papers in the canvas bag slung around her shoulder, Keaton walked towards the bench that was today’s meeting spot. As usual, Lynn was there already. It came with her jumpy nature, but Keaton was beginning to think she had it right. The Promise could do with a few more paranoid souls, and Keaton herself was well on her way to joining them.

“Lynn,” she said when she was close enough, waving as the girl looked up.

Lynn glanced up mid-bite, flipping the page of her notepad over with the other hand. Denim. Lynn, almost unconsciously, looked her over for a wire or something similar, but Lynn was less concerned than she may have been elsewhere. If they wanted information out of us, they would just bring us in, and they’d kill her all the same if they found out she had a part in it. Maybe. Lynn swallowed and let her gaze rest on the older girl for a moment. Lynn figured, of everyone, Keaton probably had the best shot of making things out okay. She was smart - smarter than Lynn, which rankled her to admit - and unassuming.

“Denim,” Lynn said back. She extended the tray of leftovers, a gesture that took even Lynn by surprise. It had been a while since she’d shared food with anyone.

The outstretched tray took Keaton aback, but she recovered quickly, taking a piece of chicken with a smile. “Thanks,” she said, taking a seat at the bench. With her other hand, she pulled her notes out of her bag. “Down to business then? Maybe we can join Archie and Natalie at the mall after.”

Lynn scowled, chewing on her lip for a moment. Something about the phrasing struck her. Archie AND Natalie. It reminded her, though, of something more important. “Shit,” Lynn muttered, pulling her brick of a phone out and turning it off. “You should do the same.” Lynn rubbed at her chin, waiting for Keaton to turn hers off. There was, of course, the added benefit of no more texts for another minute. “I doubt they’ll care about probable cause or any shit, but it’s better than nothing.” Lynn pulled her bag closer and drew her notes, messy and crudely scratched onto the page, a sharp contrast from Keaton’s ordered points “Find anything?”

Keaton nodded, turning off her phone as well. Cara had done enough listening for the day. “Not much about The Promise’s past, unfortunately,” she said as she slid her phone back into her bag. “The staff have been covering up though. I found another person who knew someone who’d committed suicide despite having made prior plans. Parahuman suicides are more common, but this ship isn’t doing a great job at preventing them.”

Lynn’s face flickered to a reaction of genuine sadness. She’d known a fair few who’d twitched at the end of their bedsheets. She thought her hatred for the snakes that ran this ship couldn’t keep growing, but it did. “Surprised that doesn’t hurt their precious numbers,” Lynn said. “Guess the cover-up. And now they throw us a damn prom.” Lynn looked over her notes, glancing around at their surroundings.

“The timing of the festival is definitely intentional, but it’s working. And, you know how social media is censored on the ship? Well, I was thinking—what if it’s to cover up for people that go missing? Well, not missing, but some people get sent back to Earth, right, but then no one ever hears from them again. No headlines, no news. Either it’s all censored, or they’re not getting sent back to Earth,” Keaton said, shrugging. “No confirmation on this, though. People like believing their friends got back safe. Just got a hunch.”

Lynn shook her head. “You and your damn hunches. You’re right. My - “ she paused, hesitating for a moment. Already told her this much. Not like she wouldn’t have figured out you were an orphan. “I contacted my case worker before we went to Gennedy for our friendly lock-up chat. Told them in code things weren’t right up here. She emailed back and hadn’t heard anything. So no cavalry from back on Earth. Surprise.” Lynn shook her head again, anger at more than just the Promise bleeding out into her expression. “Still, these fuckers are definitely, like, suppressing the news. How many people must have died - “ four people vaporized - “ and...and we don’t hear anything. And they don’t either. They’ve got communications on lock, for sure. I bet it’s Ca - “ Lynn stopped herself. “The machine woman.” She corrected, not wanting to say her name. Even dead cell phones might be listening, Lynn reckoned.

“The ‘machine woman’ is definitely listening and censoring. The other day I was looking up social media sites, but none of my searches were showed up in my browsing history when I checked it. Hunch says it’s Cara, but I don’t know why. Best guess is more censoring, so I won’t be doing that again,” Keaton said, nibbling at the chicken.

“Worth a shot,” Lynn said. “That checks, though. I was talking with Alberto - dude I work with - and he said something interesting. Said a while back one of his friends had a heart attack or something here, right? And that he was talking with his buddy’s family back on Earth. They put the buddy’s body in a casket here, but the family had a cremation or whatever back home. No body. No service.” Lynn flipped through her notes. “Then I get to thinking - there’s gotta be a lot of bodies from the breakout, right? Where the hell did they all go?” Lynn looked down at her notes, where she’d jotted down some ideas, but none of them seemed plausible to her now, sitting next to Keaton. “More cover-ups. Just keeps going on. Tired of this North Korea bullshit.”

“There’s something going on for sure. They wanted Salamandra up here, alive, for a reason,” Keaton said, shaking her head.

Lynn’s pen dug down into her notepad, her face paling for a moment, despite everything, despite all the blank expressions she’d kept locked on her face in juvy or after getting an ass-beating. “Yeah,” she muttered, as neutrally as possible. Hold your shit together, damn you, Lynn cursed herself.

Keaton blanched a little as she realized her mistake, and she rushed onto her next point. “I’m still calling parahuman studies, no hunches. Completely unethical and morally abhorrent on Earth, but in space, away from the public? No such problem.”

“You’re spot fucking on,” Lynn said, her voice a whisper. She was shaking a bit, her hair bound back in a ponytail flickering to a deep red. She reached into the bag and stopped, looking around one more time, before drawing out the doll and handing it to Keaton. “Look at the leg. The tag. It’s the same as...” she said, her voice trailing off. The same as juvy’s. she wanted to say. There was a tag around the leg, a tag that read CONFISCATED PROPERTY: INMATE A3065, ITEM #3. “I found this in the woods. The breakout. No kids under ten on the Promise? Bull - fucking - shit.” Lynn’s eyes started to glow and she turned away for a minute, taking a breath. Mugs. Warm the water. Not the mug. “I...c’mon. You gotta be like, five, six years old to play with that.” Lynn chewed on her hand for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “My money says they’ve got kids, somewhere. Kids without lawyers. Or parents. And they're ...” Lynn stopped talking. Keaton didn’t need her to finish.

Keaton stared at the doll for a moment. That was pretty definitive. Children, on The Promise—for what? Government gain? For money, science, or just the sake of holding bartering chips for the battlefield?

“The Promise has been around for roughly seven years, so that checks out.” Her eyes dropped to her notes. “Are the parahumans being sent here a cover-up for their real operations, then? Distract the public, distract us. Then get rid of us when we learn too much. Gennedy’s a bloodhound around these parts, if I even need to tell you. The older boarders never give me straight answers because of him. If he learned they even knew someone who knew something he’ll bring them in, apparently.”

A flash of panic took Lynn. She put the doll back in her bag, thinking. Lynn glanced back at Keaton, sizing her up again. She looks almost like Lucy, Lynn thought, for one brief, bizarre moment. It was entirely true, but it was a feeling Lynn could not shake. It’s not the way she looks, it’s...she carries herself, or whatever. Keaton was halfway to being an architect from what she’d told Lynn. She could build skyscrapers if she got back to Earth, Lynn thought. I...I could burn them down. “Keaton,” Lynn said. “You...you gotta be careful with that shit. Who are you asking? They’ll get you, man. They…” she paused. “Let me ask that kind of shit. They expect that from me. Not you. If…” Lynn stopped again. “I don’t know what’s taking so long, but Archie keeps fucking flipping when I’m around. First that skater dipshit drops from the sky and assaults him, and then - “ Salamandra’s name caught in her throat. “ - the restaurant. I...look, just, fuck, I’m kinda hard to miss.” she glanced up at her hair, now golden. “If one of us gets caught it’ll be me. That means it’s...it’s on you. If someone’s going to break this open. Help the kids.” Lynn turned back away. “Just...I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anyone here who won’t sell your ass out if Gennedy holds them to the fire. But that asshole can’t burn me.”

Keaton paused. The possibility had crossed her mind, but she’d been careful. Somewhat. It was, unfortunately, hard to be careful before you even knew what to be careful of, but after she’d caught word about Gennedy, she’d done her best. Could someone rat on her? Absolutely. But hopefully she’d come across innocuous enough not to prompt someone to turn her in.

“I won’t say that there aren’t a few people out there who could turn me in to Gennedy, but no fixing that. Most of the time I just slip my questions into conversation, and I mention that I’m new,” she said.

Damnit. Lynn had to admit that was clever. Smarter than she would’ve thought of. Maybe she should be asking the questions, Lynn thought. I’d just pick the one who looked like they’d snitch first and start hounding them. Works about everywhere else. “I…” Lynn frowned. Keaton didn’t get it. She remembered why she hadn’t trusted her to begin with, but there was no denying Keaton was willing to put her ass on the line to stop all this, and she wasn’t naive about what was going on, despite what she was. There was a family, and architect jobs, and a husband, and a white picket fence for her one ten minute shuttle ride away. “You’ve got folks and stuff back home,” Lynn said, fumbling for a cigarette. “I mean, like, if nobody ever comes home, even the dumbest motherfucker back on Earth has questions. They want the ones like you. You don’t turn into a t rex when it’s your time of the month or have ‘Nam flashbacks every time you punch through somebody’s chest. Just watch out. You’ve got a shot of going home.” Lynn snorted. “For the smartest motherfucker on this ship, I bet you can play dumb like a fox. I bet Gennedy didn’t suspect a thing.”

Keaton stared at Lynn for a moment. A shot at going home? She’d been avoiding that thought, avoiding getting her hopes up over something nigh unattainable. She’d come on the ship thinking she’d be home within a few years, max, but now, after seeing the body that’d washed up, after seeing Salamandra and the number of inmates that had escaped and vanished by the next day? If she was lucky, they’d have someone around to wipe her memory, if they even thought sending her back was worth the trouble.

“I don’t think they care about any of us that much. We’re all disposable, at this point. They could just tell my dad that I’m staying aboard the ship as a teacher. Or something—he’d believe it. He’d want to.” She rubbed the edge of her thumb, then sighed, looking up at Lynn again. “Thanks, though, but I don’t think I’d be clean enough at this point. You dig up anything else?”

Lynn said nothing for a moment. The idea that Keaton had a father, but...she believed it, she supposed, after all the piece of shit dads she’d known. Her own included, wherever he was. But still. Hadn’t expected it. “Nothing else right now. At least we know for sure something’s going on here.” Lynn closed her notepad and tucked it into her pocket. “And Gennedy will fucking pay for it before the end of all this.”

“For all we know, he’s just the face of the operation—the hound the higher-ups set on us to keep us afraid,” Keaton said, cleaning up her papers as well. “He’s definitely not the brains behind this all, that’s for sure.”

Lynn’s cigarette was already halfway burned through. “Hound fits. He’s a bitch. He - “ Lynn blinked, remembering. “He is dumb, you’re right. I forgot, fuck, I can’t believe I forgot. In the interrogation room - there...there was someone else, I think.” Lynn racked her brain, remembering. “Yeah, yeah, he said we had questions, but like, he corrected himself once or twice, like he was trying not to say it. Said they didn’t have cameras in the woods, either. I dunno. Doesn’t help, I guess, but...yeah.” Lynn knew it, now, though she didn’t have the words to prove it to Keaton. Something in Gennedy’s voice had tipped his hand. “Just one more mystery to figure the fuck out,” she said, standing up and slinging her duct-taped bag over her shoulder.

“A telepath?” Keaton asked, frowning. Nullifiers were a must, but they weren’t the only power that could be put to use for the staff. Believing that the staff wasn’t employing other powers was like believing the staff was going to keep their students safe: it was too good to be true.

“No, no,” Lynn muttered, clenching the cig in her teeth as she swung the other strap on. “It was just me and him in there. Someone invisible. I - “ she snorted. “Shit, I know it...I don’t have any proof or whatever, but I’ve been in a lot of shakedowns, you know? Either they say we the whole time, trying to make you think the whole precinct is watching through the glass, or they say I, like it’s just you and your new best friend across the table. Gennedy was flip-flopping. It was weird. And nobody with the brains to keep it straight would’ve let slip they’ve got no cameras in the woods.”

“Someone invisible,” Keaton repeated, staring at Lynn. That—that was a whole lot more useful than telepathy. “I—let’s meet in a cafe next time. Spill some sugar on the floor around us. Or bring flour.”

Lynn wanted to kick herself for not thinking of this before. She scanned around them, seeing nothing, of course. “Yeah. Damn. Should’ve….should’ve remembered. Stupid.” She crushed up what was rest of the cigarette in her hand and the ash fell into the breeze. “Invisible burns like everyone else. Woods work too. There’s stuff out there they’re not onto yet. They can’t have eyes everywhere. Not all the time.” A week at a time. Lynn didn’t think about the endgame for this - she never had, not in all her years. Just another week to take care of. “Let’s get out of here before invisible fuckers or human supremacist cops show up.”

“Agreed,” Keaton said, standing and reaching for her phone. “You still up for the mall? We shouldn’t be too late if we head over now, and that Thai place is having a buy-one-get-one deal today, so if you’re still up for food.”

Lynn shifted back and forth for a moment. She had no desire to really talk to anyone at the present moment, particularly given that she had not had much of a face-to-face with either Archie or Natalie, and was not looking forward to whatever therapy bullshit they wanted to put her through as a result. Still, Lynn didn’t like the idea of Keaton walking back on her own - especially if whatever invisible fucker was lurking around. It didn’t bother Lynn much, because, rightly or wrongly, Lynn doubted he could take her in one hit, but Keaton was a different story. Beneath that, Lynn was already hungry again. And that damn lizard has taken out half my clothes Lynn remembered, irritated. She’d mostly been wearing her work clothes, but she had to admit she needed more. Christ above I cannot believe I am about to go to a shopping mall with these people. . “Yeah. I’ll swing by. May bounce after the food though. Probably not smart for us to hang around too much.”

“Acting normal is part of the disguise, you know,” Keaton said, grinning. “Let’s go.”

Lynn smirked. “Yeah. Normal. That’s what I go for. Lead the way, Denim.”
In The Five Senses → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Ferris Talese
@Pezz570@HokumPocus@Jerkchicken@Fetzen@13org

Ferris arched a brow. “That’s a big weakness that The Being of Many Names didn’t mention,” he said, turning to Octavio. “I suppose this means that your familiar might be better suited heading up with me. Your choice—and his,” he said, nodding at Lynx before turning back to Chres, who had started explaining his powers. Following the plan meant placing a lot of trust in Chres and his powers, but that was how working with others went. In Ferris’ line of work, putting one’s life on the line was common practice, so although he took note of it every time, he’d grown fairly accustomed to it. After all, at the end of the day, his life was in his own hands whether or not someone else was involved.

“I will,” he said as Chres got to weaving the stairs. Watching in interest as the magic that would be supporting his weight snaked into existence, Ferris waited until the stairs started to solidify before drawing in a deep breath of pungent fruit. Magic brimmed at the edge of his fingertips, and he gave it an experimental nudge, the satisfying feeling of power ebbing as he did.

“Go,” Chres said, and Ferris did, dashing up the stairs as he fully tapped into the sharp tang of vinegar, his legs carrying him up quickly and deftly. With enhanced reflexes at his disposal, a few glances and steps were enough to ascertain the distance between each of the steps. As he ran, his eyes skimmed across the side of the tower, looking for an opening. Crashing a window was too noisy, but none of the windows were open big enough to allow him to jump in. Thankfully, there were ledges under the windows, and after some more scanning, Ferris focused on a specific window, tapping into his magic for strength as he leaped out from where the staircase ended. He landed to one side of the window, his knees knocking against the stone wall as he gripped at the ledge of the window above, his feet balanced on the edge of the open window he’d wanted.

Reaching into the window, Ferris unlatched the clasp, pulling the window all the way open before slipping inside. He landed on his feet in the stone corridor, taking a moment to look around at his surroundings and see if the Sightless noticed. When the corridor remained free of footsteps, he zeroed in on what sound he could hear. Upwards there was something—a conversation—happening, though it wasn’t loud enough to suggest conflict. Other sounds were difficult to make out, prompting Ferris to turn to his vials, swabbing one to tap into the sweet, floral scent of jasmine. As soon as he willed his magic into life, the indistinct sounds in the tower opened up, footsteps and faint whispering alike suddenly distinct enough to be processed by his newfound mental acuity. While the sounds were no louder than before, they were clearer, and clarity was enough for Ferris.

Silently, he headed up towards the whispering, his feet deft and silent over the stone underfoot. Though he let everything but the floral scent ebb away, he was on high alert, prepared to tap into the two scents on his mask at a moment’s notice.
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