AmazinglyVivid

Animorphs

It took Nierefiem a moment longer to compose himself. Though he could not stand, he managed to pull himself into a somewhat comfortable kneeling position as Max tried to stop his bleeding wound. He regarded her first with surprise. Then, though he had no mouth, the corners of his eyes of his eyes crinkled as if he were smiling. In a thought-speak that was directed towards her alone, he said, <Thank you. You are kind.>

The others ran the full gamut of reactions; One attempted calling for help, while another burst into laughter as he declared the entire thing fake, and the last went into hysterics. Finally, a fifth arrived and demanded to know what was happening. The alien prince understood their shock and confusion, but knew that there was too precious little time to allow these emotions to run their course. <I assure you that none of this is fake, nor any hallucination,> his firm voice cut through their minds. Pain edged his words, but he pressed on.

<You must listen to me. I...> The alien winced at an intense surge of pain. The others could sense it from him, in the same way that they 'heard' his voice. His pain, urgency, and sincerity poured through their link and, in some inexplicable way, they could feel it. <I am dying. Before I do, I must give you this message: your planet is under attack.>

Nierefiem took a deep breath. <The invaders are not like my people. They are not like yours. They are parasites. They are Yeerks.> This was the first time Nierefiem's general benevolence slipped. He seemed to loath even saying the word; his hatred rolled off in waves. For a moment he closed his eyes and concentrated, and in their minds they saw an image of a slimy, greenish slug about the size of a rat.

<Yeerks generally enter through the ear canal, and wrap themselves around a creature's brain, taking over their bodies and turning them into Controllers. The host's every thought and emotion are laid bare, and they are made prisoners inside their own minds. While a host can never truly rebel, it can occasionally break control long enough to cause hindrance for the Yeerks, which is why they try to coerce beings into accepting occupation willing, if possible.>

<They ambushed our dome ship as we came out of Z-Space. We were unprepared for their blade ship, and we... We were defeated. Before I crashed I sent word back to my people. We are Andalites, and fight across the empire to prevent the spread of the Yeerk empire. I explained that they are here in greater numbers than we anticipated, but it will take at least one of your Earth years for our army to arrive. By that point, however, your planet will have been taken over! That is why you must go, now, and spread word to your people, before it is too late.>

He winced again. It was clear that his time was very nearly up. <It won't be long now until the Yeerks track me here. Their dracon beams will destroy any traces of my ship. And of myself.> His voice was a little bit shaky, now. Sorrow at his own impending death flowed through their link as well. If his ship was gone, no one would believe their story. Nierefiem's expression turned grim at this realization, but his eyes lit as an idea occurred. <I believe there is time... I think that I may be able to grant you some small way to fight back. In my ship, there is a small blue box. Bring it to me quickly!>

As one of their group went to fetch the box, he continued. <A technology of my people, one that we have shared with no other race. It grants the ability to transform into any creature whose DNA has been acquired through touch. A great deal of concentration and determination are required, but it becomes easier with time. There are limits. Dangers. But there is little time to explain them now. I know that you are young, but this gift is all I have to offer. Do you wish to receive it?>

Animorphs

Okay, team! Things are about to get rolling again!

First things first, though, I'd like for everyone to make sure that their relationships are updated. I believe that everyone still needs to add Clay, and it's been pointed out to me that a few of us still have Olivia instead of Theo. :P

Deadbeat and I discussed it, and decided that the best way to retcon Clay into things, while still leaving Jason alive and existing, is to just say that the latter ran off as soon as they heard the crash. He ran into Clay, who found out from him where Max was and arrived on the scene not long after. After Deadbeat posts, I'll be putting up the post where the War-Prince explains the yeerks and offers to give them their morphing powers. Then, the fun can really start!

Animorphs

Looks great! Welcome back to the fold. :)

Yeah, I think that I could see Max as sort of a Lancer/Heart hybrid. For the sake of simplicity, though, we should probably just stick with one role per character. :P

Animorphs (Looking for One More)

Thank you! And thank you for your response and upcoming application! I look forward to seeing it!

To everyone else, thank you for interest, but we are no longer looking for new members. :)

Animorphs

I'll definitely drop him a PM. :)

Animorphs

Oh, yeah! You should have said something earlier, Dot! I'd totally forgotten that he was around.

Animorphs

Aaaand the new interest check has been posted!

Animorphs (Looking for One More)

[i]"We can't tell you who we are. Or where we live. It's too risky, and we've got to be careful. Really careful. So we don't trust anyone. Because if they find us...

Well, we just won't let them find us.

The thing you've got to know is that everyone is in really big trouble.

Yeah.

Even you."

-From the backs of the books[/i]


Hello there! This is an interest check for an RP based off of the young adult book series Animorphs. We're a small group, but it seems that one of our members has gone inactive. In the interest of keeping things moving, I'm posting this interest check to search for a player to take his place. His character was the 'heart' of the group, the people smart character intended to be the moral compass of the group. We're looking for someone else to fill that role and, beyond that, the details of your character are really up to you! We only have thirty-four IC posts, and the plot is just about to kick off!

If I've piqued your interest, please proceed to the OOC for the application and more information on the setting and preexisting characters. Please do not feel obligated to read the entire OOC, though applicants should definitely read through the IC. This will not be first come, first serve; while finding a new member for the group in a timely manner is important, what's more important is that both the character and player fit in what we've already established. Absolutely no knowledge of canon is required!

If you have any questions, you may submit them here or in the OOC. Applications can be posted here, there, or PMed to myself and DotCom.

Thank you for your time! If you're interested, I hope to hear from you soon!

X-Men: The Lost Riders of the Apocalypse (Vivid Whiskey Productions)

"You know me?!"

Rowena flinched from the sheer intensity of his exclaimation. Her aggressive feelings simmered away when she convinced herself that some forgotten memory wasn't reason for picking a fight with some man on the street. The man, though, whoever he was, certainly wasn't helping his case. He stomped towards her, repeating his question. She took a step back, but made no more movements to escape the encounter. It probably would have been smarter to do so. Yet she couldn't bring herself to leave. That surge of feeling had been the same as when she'd entered her apartment for the first time, and when she'd seen her coworkers, after that.

Well, it wasn't exactly the same. Those had been pleasantly familiar. They made her feel happier and more secure. If she felt that way with her friends, then it would stand to reason that, with how she felt before, this guy was the opposite. And now he was reaching out and touching her. Rowena's eyes widdened, but she allowed it; partially because he didn't seem to mean her harm, and partially out of pure curiosity. The moment he touched her, he flinched away and fell to the ground, clenching his head. He winced as if in some terrible pain. A pang of guilt hit her hard. It was seeming more and more like he was mentally ill, clearly battling some mental demons of his own. I'm just paranoid, she decided, and my mind is playing tricks on me. Her features softened.

"Are you okay?" She asked, concerned. He did not answer. Rather, a voice came from some point behind her. She frowned. "No, I-" she started, but a different man interupted and more or less propositioned her. The group came into view; there were about five men, one armed. Ironically, Rowena felt less threatened by them than she had before, of the odd stranger wh was now pulling himself to his feet. The light post he clung to flickered at his touch. How odd. But she didn't have time to worry about that, not with the thugs closing inwards. Where's Spider-Man when you need him? she found herself wondering.

The woman slid into a fighting stance out of instinct -Just who the hell am I?- as her eyes scanned the ground for... There! Poking up through a crack in the sidewalk were a few tiny weeds. They were more than enough for her purposes. "We don't want any trouble," she said earnestly. Fighting was always, in her opinion, the last resort. "Please, just leave us be." Her words did nothing to stop their advance. She sighed, and poured her focus into those little weeds that laid between herself and the three men.

"Wait, what the fuck is that?" One of the men gasped, flinching back from what he saw. The weeds grew and grew, out of the crack and across the sidewalk, braiding together into a thick rope. "I... I think she's one of them mu-"

"Please. Leave," Rowena repeated. Two of the men muttered their apologies to their friend. He stood his ground.

"I ain't afraid of no damn mutants," The remaining thug spat, pulling a blade of his own.

"You should be." With that, she made a broad, sweeping motion with her hand. The plant lurched his legs, wrapping around them and forcing him to the ground before he had time to react. That more or less taken care of, Rowena turned her attention to the stranger and the other two thugs.

Animorphs

Thank you, Terminal. I feel really bad about it, but Ali hasn't posted anything in about three weeks, and I'm afraid that the RP will die if things keep on like this. I think that I'm gonna put up another interest check if he does not come back very soon. If the new person would want to pick up his character or make a character similar enough that all of Jason's previous interactions could also have belonged to that character, then great. If not, we can retcon a new character in, or just have them show up at the construction site and write Jason out afterwards.

Does anybody have a problem with this course of action?