Remram
AchronumLeslie ‘Essie’ Hietz
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Branna Naves
Lothian Empire: Alymere Fort || Midday
As Mors got to work with his kill, Branna scanned the battlefield again. The outside of the fort was now clear, the enemy reduced to individual scraps and bodies around the place. A decent number of people had joined her at the front of the castle, and she vaguely wondered about how many people were still with the lordling. Allowing the coin purse to get himself killed before he coughed up was hardly right, even at the beginning of a long and high-stakes job like this one. While time might be saved, they’d already spent several days on this job, and every new one made ditching this one a less worth it. But, that wasn’t the task at hand. Currently, there was a fort to seize, and when the little archer spoke up first, Branna felt herself grin. So the girl had a voice—a quiet one, yes, but one that didn’t tremble. One day, when the girl had a few more tallies in her headcount, she just might make a strong ally. Under her, Mors snapped a bone loudly, crunching on it as he stared pointedly at the archer’s horse, who returned his gaze readily. The archer quickly redirected her horse’s attention, and Branna took her lead, patting Mors’ side with a scratchy snicker. In her experience, mounts tended to pick up some of their rider’s traits, so perhaps there was more to the archer than met the eye. As for the fort, well, the door was large and the interior would no doubt fit Mors. Comfortably, probably not, but no self-respecting commander would build and rule a small fort. That said, while Mors was no stranger to small spaces, he didn’t like them much. They tended to give him a bit of the ‘cornered animal’ feel, if Branna were to try and describe it, and cornered animals were perfect for the battlefield. There’d be no flying or dodging inside, perhaps, but there would be lots of room for flinging and smashing things into walls. Directing a final grin at the other mercenaries, Branna straightened. “Fort,” she croaked, looking straight at the structure’s metal-reinforced doors. They were thick, yes, but they were open. Mors took off for them on foot, his feet pounding on the ground below as Branna grasped her spear. There was a real battle waiting inside, complete with skilled warriors and a talented commander. Bringing them down, well, didn’t that sound fun. |  _________________________ Status: Scathed Class: Wyvern Flier Exp: 40/110 Inventory:
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Eryn Montero
Trial of Fear || Day 4: Night || @PlatinumSkink
So Houndoom were pretty intimidating. So were Trevenant, Gourgeist, Arbok, and swarms of Sableye. The last bit of the maze was nothing worse than being chased by an angry Arbok, even if Houndoom had sharp noses. When Eryn got past them, reaching the tower she’d seen earlier, she stumbled upon some sort of passcode-locked door. If you asked, her, secret codes and passwords were too middle school to be taken seriously, but after some struggle, she had an epiphany.
“That brat,” she muttered, entering in the cheesy phrase he’d shouted.
The lock beeped, opening, and Eryn headed in, walking down the stairs with Eri and the Umbreon. At the bottom of the stairs, she found some sort of villain’s lair complete with snacks, seats, and surveillance. Wrapped in a comfy-looking blanket on the couch was none other than the Trial Master, who looked quite upset about seeing her.
“So that’s what you were tagging along for,” Eryn said, looking at the Umbreon with an amused smile. “And, let me guess, you could’ve had a bigger fear aura if you’d tried. Well, thanks for not doing so, at least for the maze portion.”
Turning to the Trial Master, Eryn grinned, setting her hands on her hips. “Of course I got through. Trial of Fear? Have you been to the Infested Woods yet? The Nuzleaf was a nice touch, but try some more ghost-types, won’t you?”
At the mention of Pokemon, she frowned. “Oh c’mon, do none of you have any good rewards?” she asked, then backpedaled when the Trial Master looked surprised. “I mean, of course, rare Pokemon are really cool, and I’m sure any trainer would be lucky to have one, but c’mon, I’m a trainer. I got my starter already. If I kept getting my Pokemon from other trainers, what kind of trainer does that make me?” She shrugged. “Plus, I just hatched a Pokemon yesterday—or today, depending on how you look at it. So I have my hands full. Quite literally.”
When the Trial Master relented, presenting an item reward instead, Eryn grinned, accepting the prize with open hands. Looking over the items, though, she realized that she once again had little use for them. If she remembered correctly, none of her team needed anything to evolve except Peri, whose evolution required a Metal Coat or something. Given that Peri was still but a baby, Eryn wasn’t too concerned with evolving her yet, but it remained that none of the items were useful aside from the cash and the sash.
“Oh, this is the thing that Jeremy was using, right? For his Rattata?” Eryn asked, holding up the sash and examining it. “I don’t think this is very applicable in actual battles, but, maybe I’ll find a time to use it,” she said, pocketing the sash as well.
“Oh, I’ll definitely be back. I’ll have to challenge the Lakewatch Gym sometime, so be ready. You’re going to have to get some bigger ‘mons for then!” she said, grinning.
As he shouted his catchphrase again, though, Eryn realized he was about to leave, and she held her arms out. “Woah woah woah, at least tell me your name. ‘Trial Master’ is a real mouthful. Don’t you have some sort of nickname so I don’t have to call you ‘TM’?”
After that, though, it was up another staircase to the house from before, emptying Eryn out onto Route 5. Night was upon the route, the sun long gone, which made sense considering how much time she’d spent in the trial’s forest and maze. Checking the time revealed that it had felt like longer than it was, but a few hours was more than enough time for the sun to go down.
“Right. Back to town we go, but let’s check out the lakeside real quick. We need a water-type to check out the ruins, and we may as well start looking now,” she said, stretching her arms out above her head. “Oh and Eri, how about doubling the Umbreon from earlier? Can you do the glow too?”
Eri’s Lunatone form bobbed, then faded, replaced by an Umbreon below, which looked exactly like the one that had been tailing them during the trial. While there was a faint glow from the Umbreon despite there being no moon around to encourage it. However, the glow was somewhat dimmer, fading within a foot or so of Eri.
“Hm, no using you as a light, huh?” Eryn said, grinning. “Too bad then. Guess Dei’s still our go-to flashlight then.”
With that, she called out all but Kylie, whose she made a mental note to apologize to later. She could have done better in that battle—predicted that Jeremy had some sort of trump card up his sleeve that even a steel-type couldn’t immediately counter. In a way, she’d used Kylie as a tank due to her strength, which is exactly why she felt bad.
“Alright, to the waters we go,” she said, pointing to the lake in the distance, or at least what dark patch she thought was the lake. Onwards her team marched, the ground shaking ever-so-slightly as Peri followed along. Dei was walking along with Eri, the two of them chatting with hushed tones, and Tula was in her arms, calm and unblinking but somehow seeming like she was aware of what was happening. Or was that just her projecting?
“You know what’s happening, don’t you, Tutu? We’re heading to the lake, and you’re going to help me find a water-type—provided the waters are safe enough for me to put you in,” Eryn said, rubbing Tula’s carapace. As she spoke, the Magikarp wriggled, and her words gradually mellowed out into simple coos. “Yep you totally know, don’t you? Don’t you, Tutu?”
Pebbles “Pebs” Meyers
@Alamantus@Vertigo
Pebs widened her eyes slightly at Duncan’s words, but she matched his grin. “Deal,” she said, a cheesy smile hanging on her face as she worked on the lock and key. “Acting sounds fun. I’d try it,” she said, the lock finally giving way and opening with a metallic ‘shhck.’
The door opened itself, Pebs egging it along with a push that revealed the next room. Darkness greeted her, and she felt a flash of fear cross her mind, because it was dark, because anything could be in the darkness, but that passed quickly. Remembering to squint, she did, and in doing so, she made out what looked like a fork in the road: hallways splitting left, right, and forward.
“Oh, a switch,” Pebs said as Duncan pointed it out. He flicked it on, shedding light on the nondescript white that continued down every hall. In all three directions, the hallway turned out of view, its smooth corridors giving nothing away.
“Right, but let’s not split up,” she said as she retrieved the map from her pockets. “Getting lost in here alone would probably give me a heart attack.”
Opening the map up and holding it out so Duncan could see too, she turned it, then kept turning it until the paper was facing the same direction they were. The lines aligned, the fork perfectly replicated with ink on the paper, and she stopped.
“It fits, all right,” Pebs breathed, and, looking between the paper and the hallways, she felt a stab of nausea. What sort of building was this, and why had she and Duncan been chosen for whatever this was?
Swallowing her unease, she traced the bolded path on paper towards the middle hallway, pointing at it. “This way should be right. It’ll turn later, but that’s what’s drawn,” she said. Then, taking a breath, she exhaled, looking to Duncan. “Let’s go,” she said, leading the way down the hall.
As a smalltime Adventure Bar Story and Battle Chef Brigade fan, count me in.
Kazuhiko Taketori
Land of Fire: Konohagakure
Time was fleeting, and it moved faster than Kazuhiko thought or wanted as the countdown until the chunin exams ran down. Training with Atomu ate up his days when he wasn’t working with his team under Minoru, and even on the weekend he felt compelled to keep busy, do something other than sitting around listening to his parents and clan elders talk. There would be time for all that and more after he passed his chunin exam, but first, he had to pass it.
Talking with his teammates about their training had reminded him about what was important: getting stronger. So Hidemi hadn’t agreed to train him—he had Atomu, who was no less capable of training him at his current level. Trying to figure out what the puzzling man wanted could wait until after the chunin exams, he figured, especially since most of the skills he first had to work on were basic, foundational ones that set the stage for those more complex. There was activating the sensaigan, maintaining it, and becoming accustomed to it. Then there was actually incorporating it into attacks, familiarizing himself with the intricacies of the nervous system so that he could make the most out of every strike. The day he managed to land a true, sensaigan-backed hit on Atomu was a landmark, but it was one of many. Every new skill led to the introduction of another, and each required what seemed like endless hours of practice.
Many a time, he wondered whether the Hyuga’s byakugan required as much time and practice as the sensaigan did, and when he finally brought it up to Atomu, the answer was an amused ‘of course.’ Taijutsu often required more time to master than ninjutsu since it was the body that was being molded, not the mind and the intricacies of chakra and how it was used. The two were taxing in different ways, but physical conditioning still took more time than chakra-fueled ones, for some reason. Perhaps, as Atomu theorized, it was the difference between the physical and spiritual worlds, but neither of them were philosophers and breaks between exercises were short.
In terms of progress, Kazuhiko was quite proud of how far he’d come, not he’d ever admit it. When he described it to his parents, it didn’t come out sounding quite as impressive as he’d thought, but his father had easily understood. Despite choosing a life of politics over field work, Kazuma was a jonin-level shinobi, as was any other “self-respecting Taketori.” According to his father, it was a matter of pride, which was why the seemingly small improvements he was making made sense with the amount of time he was investing.
“Foundation is key,” his father had said when Kazuhiko finished talking, echoing Atomu’s exact words—words that, Kazuhiko soon realized, were a mantra for most Taijutsu schools. Training, honing, and conditioning were what made the difference when it came to Taijutsu, and his gradual improvement in terms of accuracy and fluency showed.
As he transitioned from foundational skills to his first few Taketori ninjutsu, though, he realized that there was a reason why the Taketori valued their own dojo so much: Many of their skills could only be taught by those experienced with sensaigan. Ninjutsu and taijutsu skills aimed precisely at nerves could easily lead to lasting consequences, after all, and a learning Taketori had little control over their strength and precision. Though there were discussed rules and limits, deflected blows were not easily as easily dodged, and many a time Kazuhiko had felt compelled to apologize profusely to Atomu as he watched his tutor tend to fried nerves with a special blend of medical ninjutsu developed by Taketori, for Taketori. Trying to imagine putting Minoru through the same injuries was unthinkable, and he was glad that both of his teammates had managed to find tutors within their clan. Though neither Koharu nor Natsuko wielded jutsu as focused on immediate damage as his, he’d seen the reason behind in-clan tutors firsthand, and the benefits didn’t end at experience.
Though practicing with his team was allotted less time than it was in the past as a result of all three of them working on their kekkai genkai, the time they spent together was more focused than it was before. The looming deadline of the chunin exam date was daunting enough to keep Natsuko focused, and Kazuhiko had to admit he was impressed with how far she’d come over the past year. Minoru had encouraged them to combine their skillsets since “three heads are better than one,” and Koharu and Natsuko did wonders with his encouragement. Combining their wind ninjutsu was hard to time, but when they figured it out, the number of trees they managed to whip bare intimidated Kazuhiko, as did Natsuko’s lighthearted warning of a “bigger, better, more amazing technique” when she figured out how to properly mesh her wind with Koharu’s ice. The thought of ice shards zipping through the air was scary enough with Koharu on her own, nevermind more numerous ones at faster paces when Koharu was allowed to focus on just controlling her ice.
As for his techniques with his teammates, his options had been rather limited. His sensaigan didn’t mesh well for obvious reasons, and Natsuko’s wind did nothing for his lightning other than helping his electricity-charged kunai fly faster. With Koharu, he’d managed to come up with a large-scaled attack featuring her water ninjutsu, but those were rather limited in comparison to her ice-based ones, so progress was slow there.
Trying to develop team tactics, though, had encouraged an interest in picking up a second chakra element. Some water release ninjutsu would greatly expand his options with his lightning jutsu, and it’d mesh well with Koharu’s skillset too. Though Taketori water-wielders weren’t common, they weren’t unheard of either. Wind and lightning chakra affinities were most common, but water affinities made up a healthy minority of the clan. This thought, though, remained but a thought, and both Atomu and Minoru had agreed that it’d be a good thing to work on after the chunin exams. For now, he focused on improving his existing skills with his own skillset and with his teammates' because even if his sensaigan didn’t directly work with their jutsu, there was no reason their jutsu couldn’t help him close the distance between him and his opponents.
Natsuko Rinha
Noon || Land of Fire: Konohagakure — Rinha Compound
“Hi-ya!” Natsuko shouted, kicking off Sayumi’s arm and landing a few feet away. Her tutor rolled her eyes, prompting her to straighten. “What?” she whined. “Can’t I make cool sound effects while I practice? I’m bored enough as it is.”
“Training isn’t supposed to be fun, Natsuko, and you’re supposed to be focusing.” Sayumi said, sighing and straightening as well.
“I am!” Natsuko protested.
“On the basic taijutsu we were working on, or on making your ‘sound effects?’” Sayumi asked. At Natsuko’s pout, Sayumi sighed again. “Alright, run along. It’s about lunchtime anyway,” she said, dismissing Natsuko with a flippant wave of a hand.
“Okay!” Natsuko said, instantly perking up. Food sounded pretty good right about now, but just as she turned to run off, she hesitated, remembering something her father had mentioned to her. “Um, Sayumi-sensei, my parents wanted me to invite you to have lunch with at our house sometime. As thanks for you agreeing to tutor me. I think my dad’s home now, if you’re free to drop by? We’re having udon, I think.”
Sayumi looked up from where she was retrieving her water and towel. “Oh, sure. Udon sounds delicious,” she said, slinging her towel over a shoulder and walking over. “Lead the way.”
Though Natsuko led the way with a smile, she couldn’t shake her nervousness. Inviting Sayumi over for lunch had mostly been her mother’s idea. It’d been decided that her father would open up his schedule for lunch to get some time to talk to Sayumi, see how Natsuko was doing and how Sayumi was as a tutor. Since it was Minoru who’d introduced Sayumi to Natsuko, her parents weren’t as in the know as they wanted to be, and Natsukawa Rinha liked to be in the know about her own clan members. From the snippets Natsuko had heard through her room’s walls, Sayumi had been a properly accomplished jonin on active duty until very recently, when she’d had a rough mission where she’d been forced to take some risks. Though the mission had been successful, Sayumi came out of it gravely injured. Something about overloading on chakra and overexerting her body. Natsuko wasn’t too sure about the specifics, but at that point she’d figured she’d probably heard a little too much. As far as she’d been concerned, the loose cloth Sayumi wrapped around her arms and legs had been an aesthetic choice, communicating a sort of bandage-like feel without the rough appearance of gauze and injury. Knowing the truth behind them tended to make her feel guilty, and she’d spent a few days hesitating before striking when direct-contact attacks were part of the day’s training regimen.
Now, she was mostly over it. Though it was scary to think about what sort of injuries could force a full-fledged jonin onto sick leave, it wasn’t like Sayumi was bedridden or unable to move. To Natsuko, her tutor seemed as capable as the next jonin, but she couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that’d settled on her whenever she thought back to her parent’s words. ‘Gravely injured’—that sounded bad. Very bad. And Sayumi didn’t look like she was injured that bad. Which, if Natsuko had to be honest, only scared her more.
“Dad, we’re here!” she called, opening the sliding door to their house.
“Natsuko-chan, welcome back. And you must be Sayumi-san,” Masaya said, emerging from another room and bowing in greeting. “Welcome.”
“Masaya-sama, thank you for inviting me over,” Sayumi said, bowing as well.
“No need to thank me. I should thank you for offering to tutor Natsuko,” he said, gesturing to a doorway. “This way,” he said, leading the way to the dining room.
“Tell me, has Natsuko been doing well in her training? I know that she can be a bit… distracted at times, but I hope that hasn't been hindering her,” he said, indicating to a butler to have another meal set up.
“She’s been fine. She could use a bit more focus at times, but she’s learning and improving at a very reasonable pace,” Sayumi said, shooting a pointed look at Natsuko, who gave her a pursed smile.
“Good, good,” Sayumi said, indicating where Sayumi should sit. Natsuko took the other available seat beside her father, hesitating before picking up her chopsticks. Eating alone seemed like a preferable option right about now.
“How is her dark release coming along? I heard from her sensei, Minoru-san, that she’s been able to perform some Kusunemasu skills,” he said, picking up his chopsticks. Natsuko took the cue and dug in, slurping up her udon heartily. Training tended to distract her from how hungry she was, but the smell of food helped remind her of it.
It wasn’t until her third slurp that she remembered that maybe she should tone it down. Generally, she liked to slurp as loudly as she wanted, but there was a conversation going on right now, and it wasn’t like her father took a lot of time off work. Someone had to go experiment and develop new jutsu, and her mother couldn’t do it all.
“It’s, well, it’s coming along,” Sayumi said. “Her control needs some work, but whose didn’t, at her age.”
Masaya nodded, finally starting to eat. The conversation progressed from there, with Natsuko focused on eating so she could dismiss herself from the table. However, because she couldn’t slurp her noodles, trying to eat them quickly was proving quite difficult. Finding the balance between speed and manners, between quiet and loud left her teetering, and more than once her father had to glance at her.
“Also, forgive me for how late this is, but congratulations on your most recent mission, Sayumi-san. I heard you were key to the mission’s success,” Masaya said.
“Thank you, Masaya-sama. The entire team was great, and I’m lucky to have had them,” Sayumi said, dipping her head.
“I also heard that you were injured, but you seem to be in good health. I assume you’ve healed up, though? When will you be taking your next mission?”
Sayumi paused. “I’m taking a short break from missions, actually. To rest and recover.”
“Oh, of course. Good thing Natsuko found you when she did, then,” Masaya said, smiling.
Natsuko felt the stir of discomfort again. ‘Gravely injured’—did that have anything to do with Sayumi taking a break? Because, by the way her dad changed the subject again, it seemed like it did.
Late Morning || Land of Fire: Konohagakure
“Here!” Natsuko shouted, dashing towards where her team was gathered by the bridge. Looking at it now, with shoots of grass peeking out of the slush-speckled ground, invoked the memory of the cold wind from the year before, and Natsuko shook out a shiver as she came to a stop beside Koharu. “So? What’re you all talking about?”
“You,” Kazuhiko said simply, throwing her off for a moment as she stared at him, taken aback. Though she quickly realized it was a joke, it’d taken her a few seconds longer than usual to make the connection. Surprise accounted for that delay since it was Kazuhiko making the jokes. He’d started to snipe back in the past year, sometimes returning jibes with a flippant tone that always had her reeling, wondering for a second or two whether he was being serious, but she was cutting that time down. Not as quickly as she liked, perhaps, but she was working on it.
“I was just asking Minoru-sensei about how Kazuha and Haru are doing. Apparently Kazuha’s vocabulary is expanding?” Kazuhiko continued, not missing a beat despite his joke. As much as Natsuko hated the fact that his deadpan delivery threw her off, she had to respect good technique. Maybe it was time for her to stop letting her grin betray her attention before she finished her sentences.
“Oh, can Kazuha finally say something other than ‘Natsuko silly?’” she joked. Her eyes, though, stayed fixed on Minoru. Where Kazuha seemed to have multiple thoughts about how Koharu and Kazuhiko were, she’d been branded as simply ‘silly,’ which didn’t work out in her favor when she was making genuine efforts to get to know the girl and her brother.
“I thought she was rather spot-on with that assessment,” Kazuhiko said.
Natsuko crossed her arms, pouting. “First time I see you in a week and you’re this mean? What’d I do to you? Make fun of your haircut too much?”
Kazuhiko pulled a face, one hand going up to try and muss up his hair, which had been cut a bit too short to allow anything of the sort. “It doesn’t look like my dad’s. His is longer in the back.”
“Looks similar enough to me,” Natsuko said, grinning. It really didn’t, but hey, it was getting to him.
@Sunflower
In
The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.
→
4 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse
Keaton sipped her tequila as she watched Lynn leave, doing her best to ignore the burn of liquid regret. From the way Lynn was acting, all tipsy and unsteady and in need of a reassuring hug and a good cry, it was clear that she wasn’t leaving to use the bathroom. Following her after she said that, though, didn’t immediately strike Keaton as a good option, so instead she watched Eli follow Lynn into the woods, then watched Amelia head in the opposite direction, disappearing by the time she glanced back. That was two people going after Lynn now—two people too many, perhaps, but maybe she was the one who was wrong. Maybe Lynn did need reassuring, did need a comforting presence and a solid shoulder. Keaton had missed her chance with that, though. Three was a crowd enough, nevermind a fourth.
Taking another sip, Keaton opted to watch the party around her for a second. Archie’s heart monitor was beeping, but that wasn’t new. With Natalie looking pretty and more than enough booze to go around, Keaton was surprised he’d lasted this long. He wasn’t turning yet, though, so she figured Natalie had it handled. Third-wheeling wasn’t on her to-do list, and new guy Nic already volunteered for that role.
Gen the poser was talking to Cara on his own phone now, looking in Archie’s direction. Considering how smooth his Japanese sounded, he was indeed a foreigner—just not one who didn’t speak English. Whether he thought pretending so was a better tactic or just more polite was uncertain, but Keaton didn’t feel like talking to him any more than she already had. She’d come, she’d seen, and she’d judged. Lynn could do better.
The rest of the people at the party melded into the background. Being stuck on the ship for the next few years didn’t seem too important considering what had happened. Salamandra, Arianna, the Faceless and whoever they worked for—all in a month’s work. Keaton would be lucky if she lasted past the year, much less a few. But, even if she couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, she had to pretend she could. Picking up another acquaintance or two could be beneficial to her cover, if not her mental health. Was it the ginger in the flannel, then, or the blonde in the leather skirt?
A trio setting up solo cups on a side table caught her attention, and she joined them after a second, rounding out their teams. Her partner, a bubbly brunette by the name of April who probably couldn’t tell water from beer at this point, missed every throw after her first but cheered Keaton on as if they were winning despite that.
“Go Keaton!” she shouted as Keaton tossed the ping pong ball forwards. When it bounced off the rim of one of the remaining three cups, she groaned, then immediately brightened. “Next turn I’ll get’em, you watch,” she said, cupping her hands around her mouth as she turned back to their opponents. “Jake ‘n Josh, you’re goin’ down!”
As Jake made his toss, Keaton watched, her mind still stuck on the fact that she’d missed. Sober, she was brilliant at beer pong. Something about being able to intuit the force and angle necessary to land a ball in a cup did that. Tipsy, though, she started messing up. Having doubts. And it was scary. Keaton didn’t do doubting about simple stuff like where to throw a ping pong ball in beer pong. The game had always been fun—relaxing in the way not having to think too much about anything but landing a ball and getting some praise tended to be. Now, though, she was too aware of her power to not try and think about it, but thinking about it made her aware of more than just her mediocre beer pong skills. She’d always hated getting drunk, disliked the prospect of going past the sweet spot of tipsy. Why, she’d never stopped to think too hard about, but now, as she missed throws in beer pong, she realized why: Her powers didn’t work well with alcohol. Rather than getting the solid, black-and-white hunches she was used to, she was feeling maybes. Maybe throwing the ball a little harder this time will land it. Maybe underhand would work better than overhand this time. Maybe, but… maybe not.
“Here, I’ll handle this. You focus on throwing,” Keaton said, taking the beer cup from April and pushing the ping pong ball into her hand. No time to experiment like the present, when she was already decently tipsy and in the company of friends. How fuzzy could her power get? And how much did she need to drink to be able to relax despite knowing she was drinking herself into uncertainty?
Downing the beer as April lined up to throw, Keaton watched as April landed her second throw of the night. Her phone buzzed as she whooped, hugging April with a giddy grin on her face as she fumbled for her phone. Rather than it being her dad with a text or Cara with a reminder, though, her phone was flashing an alert notification. The alert notification.
“Shit. Shit. Sorry guys, I need to bail. Emergency,” she said, pointing to her phone before turning around to search the party. Archie and Natalie were still here, so that left Radvi, Freaky-D, and Eli. Eli?
Her power gave her a non-committal nudge, but that was enough for her at the moment. Breaking into a run, she sped towards the woods Lynn disappeared into, her heart racing. Arianna was here. Now. On the one day Keaton had thought she wouldn't come, thought it’d be okay to relax and go past being just tipsy.
The woods were a mess of shadows and fading sound, and Keaton gradually slowed down, straining her ears to try and catch some indication of where Lynn, Eli, and Amelia were. At the first sound of voices, she jumped, sprinting towards it. Plan. Did she have a plan? She wanted to talk to Arianna, to ask questions and get answers. She wasn’t in the best condition for either right now, but no one had to know that. As far as Arianna was concerned, her powers encouraged some degree of honesty. Whether that was enough remained to be seen.
As she got closer to the voices, she slowed down, her eyes struggling to adapt to the faint moonlight through the trees. Lynn was pretty obvious, glowing as she did, but Eli and Amelia were nowhere in sight. Instead, there was a girl—a scrawny little thing who looked as much like Arianna as anyone else.
Shapeshifter, Keaton reminded herself, creeping forwards carefully. The girl looked as if she was about to cry, and, straining her ears, Keaton made out something about running and hiding. That was what Arianna was doing, had been doing for the better part of a month, but nothing about how scared she was matched the ruthless, calculating image Keaton had conjured for her. Where was the girl who’d evaded the entire Promise staff so she could plot the downfall of the ship? The girl who’d decided that releasing parahuman murderers on kids as a distraction was worth the human cost?
But, as she stared at the girl, willing her powers to give her something to work with, some ledge to grasp other than frazzled emptiness, nothing solid came forward. Keaton had no idea whether Arianna was telling the truth, no idea whether the sniffling girl beside Lynn was Arianna in honest, no idea about anything. Instead, she sank down into the leaves, not minding the sharp pain as she tore tiny pieces from the edges of her nails. All that mattered was the black void of not knowing.
Footsteps behind her sent her scrambling to the side as Radvi and Freaky D emerged from the woods, a gun—gun?—in Radvi’s hand as he hollered at Lynn. The frail girl beside Lynn bolted, and Radvi and Freaky D gave chase as Keaton sat in the shadows of a bush, watching as they left. That was Arianna—she should have known—in disguise—she should have known—putting Lynn in danger—she should have known. Had it been obvious? Yes. Yes, it’d been so, so obvious, but somehow she hadn’t known.
The sounds and screams died off within minutes, and Keaton stood from her spot shakily, walking towards where the fight had gone. Arianna was nowhere in sight, and Keaton figured she had to be gone. Hopefully.
Making out where the others were, she walked towards them, lingering a few feet from where Eli and Lynn were gathered around Radvi. Freaky D was a robotic mess on the side, whereas Radvi was a bloody one, his face—
Lynn was there, applying pressure to the wound. Keaton vaguely wondered whether she should do that. She could ask Cara to feed her information on where the blood vessels were, where to focus the pressure, but was that really more effective at the moment? She couldn’t be sure, and the fact that she couldn’t meant it probably wasn’t.
Eli was at Radvi’s side too, likely using her power somehow. To stop the pain? To stop the pain. The certainty of that piece of information was addictive, and Keaton clung to it as Archie and Natalie arrived. Archie’s heart monitor wasn’t going off, wasn’t on him anymore, for some reason. While the knowledge wasn’t comforting, the certainty was, and that was almost enough.
Bolstered by the slow return of her power, Keaton willed herself forward, pulling out her phone and aiming the camera at Radvi’s face. “Cara, is there anything else we can do?” she asked.
“Miss Holmes, keep applying pressure to the wound. I’ll connect us to a line at the hospital so we can relay the damage to them. Miss Wessex, if you could describe to them where the pain is, it’d help them figure out which injuries might need addressing first.”
Cara opened the line to a nurse, whose tone got rapidly more professional as she started asking questions about the injuries and the pain. Keaton listened along, connecting and translating any rough phrasing Eli used to medical terms the nurse provided when her power cooperated. Being helpful helped calm her down, and she gradually managed to still the phone in her trembling hands. It was comforting to be in control again, at least somewhat.
As the questioning went on, Amelia appeared, announcing her plan, and Keaton stared at her, realizing that she’d forgotten how viable an option that was.
“How many people can you teleport with you? Eli should go to help the doctors figure out where and how much brain damage there is, and someone needs to keep applying pressure on the wound,” she said, eyes flicking to Lynn. Just because Amelia was willing to see Gennedy didn’t mean Lynn was.
In
The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.
→
4 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse
Ten—that was pretty early. Really early. Was it surprising? Yes, in that Keaton couldn’t really imagine drinking at such a young age. Drinking around her dad only became normal once it came out that she drank; before that, it was sneaking around curfew and popping mints as she did her best to sober up before arriving home, but those were all late teens antics, not preteen ones. High school PSAs about alcohol affecting brain growth came to mind, the thought dwelling as Keaton stared at Lynn. If Lynn knew what she was thinking, Keaton would probably get a burn or two, but drunk Lynn didn’t seem as attentive as sober Lynn. Pity would go over her head, then, especially with Keaton’s poker face, which was honestly better when she had another emotion to distract herself with.
In this case, the distraction was her other two jello shots, and she pulled a grin as she swallowed the second, the tang of vodka biting past the off-fruit aftertaste of the jello as she watched Lynn address Fish. Amelia and Eli weren’t as caught up in Lynn’s words as she was, though, and Keaton took a hint from them, downing her last jello shot and turning her attention on the newcomer, who identified himself as Gen, or Zack, with choppy English. Wearing a collared shirt to a campground party marked him as either a guy looking to get laid or socially awkward, and his marked hesitation as he introduced himself had Keaton place him as the latter. His bow marked him as some sort of Asian, east instead of south, so mixed. Black? Keaton did a double-take, looking Gen over. He was tall, but she was generalizing now.
Lynn purporting that tequila would solve the language barrier made Keaton crack a laugh, though she sobered up as Amelia piped up about wanting the complete tale of ten-year-old Lynn and whiskey. Staying silent as Lynn fumbled with her cigarette, she watched, only tuning in fully when she heard Cara’s name. Out came Eli’s phone, and Keaton looked at Gen again, frowning as he spoke. How had he survived on the station without learning English? It was basically a mandatory class, and it wasn’t like Cara wasn’t a viable practice partner. Keaton herself had briefly considered learning some Spanish, after hearing Lynn throw it around, but she’d never gotten around to it. For Gen to sound like he was fresh off the boat at this point in time, well, he had to have either holed up in his room or—Cara’s tone. Cara had tones, and her tone hadn’t matched her words fully, didn’t tend to match her words when she had thoughts on the subject. Being on the receiving end of Cara’s penchant for subtly rubbing wins in allowed Keaton to place the tone, and she fixed Gen with a sharp look. He was understood English—had understood everything Eli and Lynn had said even before Cara started translating. He was lying, and Keaton, be it because she felt that it was her responsibility to vet people for Lynn or because she was beginning to feel the buzz of not really wanting to consider or care about why the antisocial boy decided to lie, had no sympathy for liars.
“Hey Cara, how’s Zack doing in his English classes? Well, I assume?” she asked, flashing Gen a bit-too-wide innocent smile. If Lynn hadn’t introduced him, hadn’t implied that she’d be open to considering him a friend, Keaton might have cut him some slack. But Lynn introduced him, and he decided to lie. He was a poser, a fake, a liar who wasn’t afraid to take advantage of someone if it meant he’d be more comfortable. If he’d just told the truth instead of being a spineless idiot, maybe he’d deserve the name ‘Fish,’ but even fish had spines.
The boy next to Eli stepped away, and Keaton suddenly realized that she’d managed to tune him out completely when she focused on Gen. Shit. How strong were those jello shots? She could handle a bit more, but they were hitting. Hard? Kinda. She hadn’t drunk anything in a while—a long while, now that she thought about it, and yeah. Okay. So she had to revise her drinking standards a bit. Big deal.
“Lynn, pour me some tequila,” she said, fully intent on directing the shorter girl back towards the booze table and away from the wannabe fob. Archie and Natalie were there too, along with Nic, now. Maybe if they all left, Gen could get what he wanted: some more alone time.
Eryn Montero
Trial of Fear || Day 4: Evening || @PlatinumSkink
Sneaking through the maze was rather nerve-racking, even with Eri the Lunatone leading her. Every corner presented a new chance to get spotted, and behind her, the Umbreon showed no signs of letting up. Having it around creeped Eryn out, though she knew from the Umbreon’s Pokedex entry that the unsettling feeling she had about it was just a part of its powers. Still, it didn’t seem to be looking to fight, and Eryn was happy with that much. So they had a silent, fear-striking stalker with glowing rings. They’ve had worse.
Eri froze first, and Eryn peeked around the corner, brows rising when she saw a kid up ahead, yellow shirt, blue cap, and all. Beside him was a Rattata with some red band tied around him, and as soon as he started talking, identifying himself as a part of the trial’s challenges, Eryn grinned, walking up to him.
“Sounds like we’re almost done then,” she said. “Which is good ‘cuz I’m getting hungry.”
Looking at his Rattata curiously when it was brought up, Eryn frowned. Even though it looked like it was raring to go, determination filling every follicle on its body, it didn’t look very strong. What the red ribbon or sash it had on was, Eryn had no idea, and she made an internal note to study some items. From the way the youngster worded his challenge, it was clear that there was something up with this battle, but what was it? The no switching rule meant he fully expected to knock his opponents out, and adding on the healing rule he put forth, it sounded like he was expecting his Rattata to get pretty beat up doing so.
“Trial of F-E-A-R, huh?” she repeated, grinning again. “Bring it.”
Whatever it was, she’d figure it out when it came. The Rattata didn’t look very challenging, and she had no more clues as to what the boy’s brilliant plan was.
“C’mon out, Kylie,” Eryn said, Kylie materializing in front of her. She’d play it safe first. Kylie’s typing made most normal-type attacks useless, and she could tank a hit or two if the kid pulled anything surprising out of his sleeves.
On the field, Kylie looked around for a moment before settling her eyes on the Rattata, a smile playing on her lips. “Maw,” she sang, waving at her opponent, her eyes trained on the red sash the Rattata had around it.
“Let’s go, kid. Kylie, Bite,” Eryn called
On the field, Kylie leaped forward, jaws first. Her teeth wrapped around the mouse, clamping down, and when she let go, Eryn was surprised to see that the Rattata already seemed to be on its last legs. It had seemed rather weak, yes, but she’d given it the benefit of the doubt since there was no way such a weak Pokemon could beat any of her Pokemon, nevermind her whole team. In fact, she was surprised it was still standing when a slight breeze looked capable of blowing it over.
Then came the reveal—Endeavor. The dots connected, and Eryn’s mouth dropped, her eyes wide as she watched the kid command a follow-up Quick Attack to knock Kylie out entirely. With a measly hit that couldn’t have hurt any of her team on a good day, the Rattata took Kylie down, crumpling the Mawile.
On her side of the field, Eryn spluttered, recalling Kylie with some amount of disbelief as the youngster healed his Rattata up. The red sash—it had to be. It’d prevented Kylie from knocking the Rattata out, thus opening her up for Endeavor and Quick Attack. In short, it was brilliant, but Eryn was a bit too annoyed to tell the boy so. Cheap tricks and rules established in good faith were what had led Kylie to get knocked out so easily, and Eryn didn’t like it one bit. This wasn’t a real strategy—wasn’t a strategy anyone could use anywhere except in this battle, where switching was barred and items were allowed in an established pause.
Eri the Lunatone drifted over, red eyes boring into Eryn’s, and she sighed, nodding. “Alright, kid. You got me. That was good,” she said, eyes drifting to his Rattata as she pondered her options. She needed something to break his two-move knock-out strategy—something that could hit faster than the Rattata’s Quick Attack, something that could knock the Rattata out before it could execute its two-step plan. A ranged move? Dei could jockey Smokescreen and Ember, smoke the Rattata into missing and take it out with a second Ember before it could get close enough for a Quick Attack. Or was it Peri and Rock Tomb to hinder the Rattata and allow her to get in the final hit as the Rattata took its time climbing over rocks? The red band—that was key to the boy’s success, so something that could get around it would solve the problem.
“Hold up, Eri,” Eryn said, grinning as she looked to her resident shapeshifter, whose blank, stoney face communicated no emotion whatsoever as he turned to her. “Multi-hits—you know the one.”
Registering her words, Eri's eyes glowed in understanding, and he drifted onto the field, hovering a foot or so above the Rattata on his side of the field. Behind him, Eryn was all grins again. Thinking fast in a pinch indeed.
“Alright, kid. I better get something for beating you in this game of wits!” she called. “Eri, sic ‘im!”
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