Aqutanama

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

@WhiteAngel25

Sorry for the delay. I work graveyard now. However, I would like to continue if possible. Even if my character is just a background decoration at this point.

The Clowns of Valerith

@Guardian Angel Haruki I have a question. Are we going to prune the inactive players from the RP/shift them to NPCs until they return or just let this die out?

I mean I'm all for the mists of Ravenloft consuming them until they return. This is more RP heavy than it is rolling heavy. We could also say that the group split up for various reasons. One doing the party while the other holds down the fort. The people who are no longer active would be keeping the tavern running as it usually does. While the people who are active go to the party. This is just a suggestion as it feels like it has been months.

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

Rathiain Bukead Anviltank

The Cursed Son of Creation

I cast Sleep!

---

Rathiain Bukead Anviltank, reclined quietly, a silent observer amidst the lively chatter of the adventurers gathered in the expansive chamber. Each voice carried weighty opinions on the matter at hand, speculation weaving intricate patterns that mirrored the teachings of the masters. Yet, Rath remained cautious, knowing that truth often hid behind veils of uncertainty. The prospect of embarking on a quest for treasure seemed promising, but he couldn't shake the nagging doubts of potential obstacles—guarded riches or formidable entities—that could thwart their endeavors. A small sigh escaped Rath's lips, the sound tinged with an otherworldly quality, akin to the distant hum of ancient magic resonating through arcane artifacts. He took a sip of his drink, the liquid offering a brief respite from the weight of anticipation.

When Budi, one of the company, leaned in to catch a scent of Faline’s hair, Rath resisted the urge to intervene. His mentor's words echoed in his mind, cautioning against rushing into the role of a self-proclaimed hero. "Wait until someone asks for help," they had advised, "for they may not need nor want yours." And so, Rath remained still, observing each individual's reaction, silently assessing the group dynamics that would shape their journey to find their masters.

Amidst the ongoing debate about their course of action, Rath sensed the group's collective determination to embark on a quest akin to grave robbing, in search of a long-lost treasure. The notion unsettled him, stirring a knot of discomfort in his stomach. Leaning forward, he sought solace in the cold, unyielding surface of the table, the solidity providing a brief respite from the turmoil of his thoughts.

Lost in contemplation, Rath's mind wrestled with uncertainty until a sudden crackle from the fire snapped him out of his reverie. Blinking back to awareness, he watched as an ember danced erratically within the flames. Only after that did a well-rounded dwarven woman enter, bearing trays of food with a buoyant step. Rath observed the cheerful demeanor with which she served, addressing Dorian as "Boss" with a lilt of genuine warmth. Though it seemed peculiar, Rath found himself appreciating the positive energy she exuded. As she approached him, offering his meal, Rath nodded deeply in acknowledgment, a gesture of respect for her hospitality.

"Expression: Thank you for the meal." Rathian conveyed his gratitude to the dwarf woman. Once again, his voice carried an otherworldly resonance, reminiscent of ancient magic coursing through arcane relics. However, this time, a subtle warmth imbued his tone, hinting at a smile that transcended the peculiar sounds emanating from him.

He glanced at his meal, another sigh escaping his lips as he cast a fleeting glance around the room. Reluctant to leave the comfort of his solitude, he triggered the magic within his suit, causing the helm to split into several sections. Each segment retracted, unveiling his youthful visage, devoid of the rugged features typically associated with adulthood. Rath's appearance, akin to that of a young teenager yet to undergo their growth spurt, rendered him distinctly androgynous. Coupled with the suit's modification of his speech to a near-sexless tone and its feminine displacer beast form, Rath feared being perceived as too soft and weak, despite his forty years of age.

Avoiding eye contact, Rath focused on his meal, Rath lifted the bowl to his nose, savoring the tantalizing aroma before invoking a spell, enveloping the food in a shimmering aura of magical energy. With a whirring resonance, the magic infused the meal, enhancing its flavor and vitality. As he ate, Rath consumed his meal with ravenous fervor, as if driven by an insatiable hunger. Upon finishing, exhaustion weighed heavily upon him, evident in his hastened consumption. Glancing around the room, Rath silently offered gratitude to whatever deities may be listening for the lack of attention drawn to his voracious appetite, or perhaps, the feigned ignorance of those who had witnessed it.

Observing others claim bunks for the night, Rath's smile would have betrayed his fondness for sleep if his face were still showing. He sought solace in a secluded corner of the room, away from the bustling activity, ensuring no one would mistake him for a mere coat rack. With a wave of his hand, he cleared the area, invoking the magic of his suit to cleanse and imbue the space with the soothing scent of fresh lavender. In mere moments, the corner transformed into a haven of tranquility.

As Rath reclined back, preparing to surrender to the embrace of sleep, he felt a subtle shift in the air. Arcane energies responded to his need, coalescing into plates similar to those within his suit. These constructs formed beneath him, providing stability and structure, allowing Rath to lay down without discomfort or awkward posture. Leaning back Rath locked his suit into a reclined almost laying down position, embracing the promise of slumber. The weight of exhaustion lifted from his shoulders as he surrendered to the embrace of sleep, welcoming its embrace with a whispered sigh of contentment.

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

HAHAHA!

@Pandolin

https://youtu.be/luHwmJ8OBsw?si=uw2J1nrYACLOy3ct

I hope that my reply was sufficient.

Dustbound - Superpower Jail RP

Is this still going, is life slowing it down, or is it done?

Tales From the Realm of Laelilon

I'm still here. Just got caught up in life stuff. I will try a reply hopefully today or tomorrow depending.

The Clowns of Valerith

Are we all waiting on someone else or am I the one needing to post? Just not sure if there is an order to this operation or if it is just a clown car and whoever can get out first does.

Dustbound - Superpower Jail RP

Posted. I hope that wasn't too much? Like describing the Boss. I can change that if needed.

Dustbound - Superpower Jail RP

Deomni Grail Morningstar

Hard blue light encapsulated Deomni’s face as he clicked away at his keyboard. Another night of no sleep, all because he was the only one who did documentation correctly. Tilting his head from left to right he got a few pops, there was also the manipulation of his hands and wrists. Deomni had his exercises that he did in order to keep himself from falling asleep or getting carpal tunnel. Once he finished his hand movements he stood up and stretched. Daylight peeking through the cracks of his blinded windows. He had tried to set up curtains, however, even though they seemed to slump in the heat. Which was strange considering he was the one who corrected the air conditioning systems in the area.

Papers were scattered all over his desk next to his computer monitors, keyboard, and mouse. One screen read: Detailed Patient Information and evaluation. The other screen read: Maintenance Log. There were many tabs of other programs and the like opened as well. Before he left his room he made sure to lock the desktop. With a defeated sigh he moved over to his minifridge and pulled out an energy drink. Afterwards he took his tablet and pulled the data from his PC to it. He noted the memo of new arrivals the sender was listed as Boss. Another sigh and a sip. His lips tingled as the drink passed by and into his system.

“Today is going to suck.” He lamented out loud in his office. He was walking toward the exit then stopped. Hastily he moved to his desk and pulled out a small fan. Deomni made sure that everything was closed and locked up correctly. His PC was something that was actually inside the ground under the desk. He had suggested setting it up like this in order to secure it. He unplugged the cords and moved the desk, so the ports were no longer in view. Afterwards he moved the cords to a side of his desk where it looked like a tower or laptop would plug in.

Another sigh left his lips as he put his drink down on the ground nearby. He tried to tidy up the paperwork but just ended up stacking it all together. That would probably be a headache when he got back. Once finished he placed it into a file cabinet. He remembered to pick up his drink as he moved out of the room. On his left wrist was a bracelet which he used to lock the door. It was early in the morning so he made his way to one of the guard stations. There he picked up some food and ate. An apple and some bread. Seemed like a light breakfast or an almost non-existent dinner.

Deomni could already feel the heat. Well, it was more that he could feel the AC units kicking on. The heat didn’t really bother him, not as much as it did the others. It was just that electronics had issues with being too dry. That and his patients were all grumpy… well, more grumpy than normal. Which increased the difficulty of getting through to them. He considered everyone here a patient and had files on the guards and his boss as well. This was because he was told that he had to send the information. It was one of the reasons his documentation was so detailed.

Shaking away his thoughts he focused on eating. He needed to use this time to let his mind rest. If he were lucky he would finish the initial meet and greet documentation early. If he did he would be able to actually sleep. A full night of sleep is what he dreams for, well, daydreams for. Deomni could hear Olivia screaming at someone outside. Thus he knew that the day had really started. He moved through the complex and sat in a chair. Around this chair was a small desk and a thick plastic see through pane. There were lines outside that had colors leading the prisoners to specific sections of the jail. This section he sat in was listed as intake.

Outside the doors there would be a sign which held the letters Intake. This was the door where the buses dropped off prisoners. Once inside they would get the collars or upgraded collars. There were cameras placed everywhere and one to take an image of when they arrived. There was a mechanical arm that Deomni controlled with the assistance of the computer. He would ask people for their general information as they came in. Then they would get the upgraded nano dampeners collar. Each person would then receive clothing and would have to line up. The guards usually led them in groups of 5 or 10 depending on the amount they were able to find.

The Boss would usually make an appearance during intake. Mainly to stuff his finger in people’s faces and show them who the “big dog” is around here. To Deomni the man had a set of different complexes and that was why he was here. The people he worked for or with didn’t want him around. Deomni usually just looked like he was ignoring the situation but wrote down everything the Boss did. He wasn’t sure if the Boss knew he was doing this. However, he assumed that he did and did not care.

The Boss reminded him of the person at work that no one likes, all the females felt uncomfortable around him, and somehow he got promoted. Then all the females on the team shifted to being reviewed by someone not him. No matter how many people reported him, nothing ever stook. No matter what he kept his job and position. It wasn’t like people would tell on him but Deomni had to in order to keep his job. It mattered little to him what the Boss would do. Then again he could end up in this prison as a prisoner. That was the only thought that scared Deomni.

Intake days lacked personal one on one interactions. It was all business all the time and in this monotony, he found himself akin to a robot. There was little he did other than ask the correct needed questions in order to get the lines moving. This was probably because the Boss didn’t like it when Deomni tried to “make friends.” Another sip of his drink as they started flowing in. He had hoped that this experience would pass quickly. Then perhaps he could get some sleep or interview some of the new patients. The dark bags under his eyes told people that he didn’t sleep much. They would probably be able to tell that he was overworked. However, he smiled at every person who passed in front of him.

Dustbound - Superpower Jail RP

Probably me? I thought we were waiting for more players to join. However, if that isn't the case I can make my reply.