Astarael42 Member
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we all get kinda busy...I know I meant to post tonight but well...I am weighing sleep as the valued option right now. I'll be trying to get a post in before work tomorrow.
ok. should be around tomorrow sometime then.
Vol leaned arrogantly back against the wall, head down watching the Hag from under the brim of his hat. He hated the man, but not for the reason one might think. Vol cared about only himself, and the Hag had interfered with his self adoration.
“So what” he drawled softly “new lands, new people. Why should here be any different. Except for the bloody cold.”
He looked down near his feet where four wolverines were bouncing about happily. They were made for the cold and were almost playful in this weather. Frolicking in the chilly wind like it was a tropical paradise.
“At least they like it here” he muttered.
“Lets get this show underway” he said lifting his head and grinning sadistically “I’m hungry. And bored.”
He licked his lips, his thoughts drifting to just what pleasures he could find available here. Women, men, vodka…souls. Perhaps the finer things in life could be found in this hell-hole if one looked.
“How about giving me a decent billing this time?” he asked. “A little advertisement. I’d love to do a some side business before the show starts. Something wide eyed and curvy with soft ass…ets?”
something that screams nicely he thought, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He wasn't just hungry for pleasure, but for souls. It had been long enough. Of course not everyone could handle his...inclinations.
“So what” he drawled softly “new lands, new people. Why should here be any different. Except for the bloody cold.”
He looked down near his feet where four wolverines were bouncing about happily. They were made for the cold and were almost playful in this weather. Frolicking in the chilly wind like it was a tropical paradise.
“At least they like it here” he muttered.
“Lets get this show underway” he said lifting his head and grinning sadistically “I’m hungry. And bored.”
He licked his lips, his thoughts drifting to just what pleasures he could find available here. Women, men, vodka…souls. Perhaps the finer things in life could be found in this hell-hole if one looked.
“How about giving me a decent billing this time?” he asked. “A little advertisement. I’d love to do a some side business before the show starts. Something wide eyed and curvy with soft ass…ets?”
something that screams nicely he thought, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He wasn't just hungry for pleasure, but for souls. It had been long enough. Of course not everyone could handle his...inclinations.
so quick question for you Mortimer...I found an old RP buddy who would be interested in joining (not yet a member of the site) if you might consider opening up a fortune teller position.
I can see if I can find anyone. If you want. And I'll post in the IC later today if I can.
ok. feel free to wander, wake up, whatever. dark is in less than an hour. This is where the story normally begins...we were just dragging it out to see if any more of the people who expressed interest were planning on showing up. All adults, mentors, family, and other children are "vanished" for lack of a better word. none remain. Children are on their own from here on out--time to grow up or die trying.
The sounds of the alarm bells resonated with everyone. It was such a routine, a routine that had kept everyone in the town safe for the past handful of years. In fact they hadn’t had a death from an attack on the village in at least six years.
But as the bells rang and rang, and nothing happened people started get nervous. This wasn’t right, wasn’t normal. And soon there was a feeling of unease through the watchers. This was heightened by Autry’s gallop into the town on the back of the phantom steed. Most in the village thought Autry was nothing more than an old herbalist, the “ghost” horse made things considerably worse.
It happened fast, so fast that it was hard to tell exactly what happened. The unease that was sweeping through the villagers, the regular militia and the extra villagers that had gathered, grew to a panic. The source was unknown but soon the people, normally calm and sensible as any people in the land, were milling like terrified cattle.
A young man, not yet 20, spooked by something he did not understand or know, raced along the wall with his pitchfork. He didn’t look where he was going and didn’t see Thovren.
The haft of the pitchfork caught the lad across the back of the head, knocking him unconscious and sending him tumbling off the village wall.
Fortunately it was on the moor side, the ground below was spongy and soft. It would bruise him, but not break bones like a fall onto the hard packed earth of the road would. Unfortunately no one saw him fall and he was soon half-sunk in the spongy earth of the moor. He might as well have been dead, he was that still.
There was no time to even notice the boys absence, terror swamped the village. Autry, noticed, felt the fear and recognized it for what it was. But there was not enough time to do anything about it.
*********
Silence, pure and unfettered silence filled the village. No animal moved, no bird called, no wind rustled. All was completely silent.
The village was empty. Devoid of all people, as if they had simple up and vanished. The village however was perfect, exactly as it was when the alarms sounded. Right down to the cook fires that were still burning.
There was no sign of battle, struggle, even simple foot prints. There was no sign of a raid or missing property, other than that which was on people. Just an empty village and perfect silence.
The animals, for they were still there, were perfectly still and quiet. They did not move, they did not make any of the usual noises, and in fact unless one looked very closely they did not even appear to be breathing; as if they were afraid to break the silence.
While it was hard to tell just how much time had passed exactly it was plain that there was only about an hour left until dark. An hour left until the creatures of the moor wandered unfettered. And with the village empty, the gate open, there was nothing to stop them from entering the village and feasting on the livestock such as the chickens, goats, and cows.
*****
Brisa awoke from her enforced sleep and scrambled out of the barrel. She wondered what happened to Autry’s other apprentice, Atrus. She had seen him briefly but the sleep had claimed her faster than she had a chance to see what he would do.
Grumbling Brisa scrambled out of the cellar to find Autry. I was known when the danger was past everyone was to gather in the village square for a roll call. That was where Autry intended to head. Trotting through Autry’s house she stopped.
There was something odd. Something she couldn’t place. Then she realized what it was. Silence.
Autry’s house was close enough to the woods that birds were always singing, trees rustling, and Autry's goats and chickens were always making noise. There was none of that now.
Brisa didn’t know what was wrong, but somehow the silence seemed completely overwhelming and dangerous.
She stopped in her tracks, shaking a little.
“Autry” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Despite how quietly she spoke her voice carried in the empty stillness of the house.
****
For the others, the few that had been hidden so well they were overlooked, the silence was the first thing they noticed too, before they even moved, indeed before they even opened their eyes. Anyone who lived here knew the sounds of the woods, the sounds of the moor, the sounds of the village. All was quiet, and that was very very wrong.
But as the bells rang and rang, and nothing happened people started get nervous. This wasn’t right, wasn’t normal. And soon there was a feeling of unease through the watchers. This was heightened by Autry’s gallop into the town on the back of the phantom steed. Most in the village thought Autry was nothing more than an old herbalist, the “ghost” horse made things considerably worse.
It happened fast, so fast that it was hard to tell exactly what happened. The unease that was sweeping through the villagers, the regular militia and the extra villagers that had gathered, grew to a panic. The source was unknown but soon the people, normally calm and sensible as any people in the land, were milling like terrified cattle.
A young man, not yet 20, spooked by something he did not understand or know, raced along the wall with his pitchfork. He didn’t look where he was going and didn’t see Thovren.
The haft of the pitchfork caught the lad across the back of the head, knocking him unconscious and sending him tumbling off the village wall.
Fortunately it was on the moor side, the ground below was spongy and soft. It would bruise him, but not break bones like a fall onto the hard packed earth of the road would. Unfortunately no one saw him fall and he was soon half-sunk in the spongy earth of the moor. He might as well have been dead, he was that still.
There was no time to even notice the boys absence, terror swamped the village. Autry, noticed, felt the fear and recognized it for what it was. But there was not enough time to do anything about it.
*********
Silence, pure and unfettered silence filled the village. No animal moved, no bird called, no wind rustled. All was completely silent.
The village was empty. Devoid of all people, as if they had simple up and vanished. The village however was perfect, exactly as it was when the alarms sounded. Right down to the cook fires that were still burning.
There was no sign of battle, struggle, even simple foot prints. There was no sign of a raid or missing property, other than that which was on people. Just an empty village and perfect silence.
The animals, for they were still there, were perfectly still and quiet. They did not move, they did not make any of the usual noises, and in fact unless one looked very closely they did not even appear to be breathing; as if they were afraid to break the silence.
While it was hard to tell just how much time had passed exactly it was plain that there was only about an hour left until dark. An hour left until the creatures of the moor wandered unfettered. And with the village empty, the gate open, there was nothing to stop them from entering the village and feasting on the livestock such as the chickens, goats, and cows.
*****
Brisa awoke from her enforced sleep and scrambled out of the barrel. She wondered what happened to Autry’s other apprentice, Atrus. She had seen him briefly but the sleep had claimed her faster than she had a chance to see what he would do.
Grumbling Brisa scrambled out of the cellar to find Autry. I was known when the danger was past everyone was to gather in the village square for a roll call. That was where Autry intended to head. Trotting through Autry’s house she stopped.
There was something odd. Something she couldn’t place. Then she realized what it was. Silence.
Autry’s house was close enough to the woods that birds were always singing, trees rustling, and Autry's goats and chickens were always making noise. There was none of that now.
Brisa didn’t know what was wrong, but somehow the silence seemed completely overwhelming and dangerous.
She stopped in her tracks, shaking a little.
“Autry” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Despite how quietly she spoke her voice carried in the empty stillness of the house.
****
For the others, the few that had been hidden so well they were overlooked, the silence was the first thing they noticed too, before they even moved, indeed before they even opened their eyes. Anyone who lived here knew the sounds of the woods, the sounds of the moor, the sounds of the village. All was quiet, and that was very very wrong.
Name: Vol
Age: 32
Gender: male
Appearance: Vol is a lean man with a narrow face with thin lips and a grin that can inspire trust or fear with equal ease. He is actually quite handsome and knows it. He has a nearly always hungry look in his eyes, as to what he hungers for…that changes regularly. He dresses a in a bit of an old fashioned industrial style and keeps with him at all times a sword-cane. He has a trim lean body with good muscles, hazel eys that can truely charm, and thick black hair.
Position: Animal tamer specializing in wolverines (for the moment)
Powers: Able to assert dominance over any predatory and semi-predatory mammal, he can summon and command them as he wishes.
Personality: He is cold most of the time, and a bit sadistic. He actually enjoys loosing his wolverines on people, seeing the fear. Particularly those he dislikes. He can also be proper and follow the rules; but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He has a great taste for all the finest things in life, wine, women, and riches…not necessarily in that order. He was always cold hearted, living for the moment and himself. Being forced into the carnival did not change that. It increased it a bit, but that darker self was always there.
Background info: Vol was born poor, his family died of disease and left him to fend for himself. He hated them for that. And he hated being poor. He began to steal, lie, charm, and bluff his way into money from the age of 8. He did whatever, whoever, whenever, wherever he had to do. He was good at it too. There was something about him that he was just able to manipulate people so easily. He was handsome, that helped. But it was more to it than that. He could read people. And he had no qualms about stepping on them to get to his goal. He amassed much money much faster than one might expect but it was never quite enough.
Wish: His wish was simple—to have as much money, women, and luxuries as he wanted whenever he wanted them. He mourns his bondage only in that it is bondage; the “job” he loves.
Bonds to other characters: He cares about himself. That’s pretty much it.
Weapons: Sword-Cane
the avatar face is kinda creepy now that you mention it. It looks all innocent and you know its just not
Recruiting...have openings. Check out the OOC. :-)
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