Azlum

Disregard

We definitely have something in common, loving really horrible stuff for conflicts.

I can play male or female, and I'd prefer post-apoc or sci-fi. Or a mix of both.

Pretty much, I'm up for anything.

Shivering Bay

Page after page had been filled, the ink covering the pages in both writing and drawings, not leaving unused surface before moving on to the next page. Sloane had tried to peek from time to time but it wasn’t long into Abel’s work was he leaned over the table, hunched over the journal. The coffee had only been sipped at here and there when he remembered it, most of the ice cubes having melted and watered down the drink but he didn’t seem to care.

The arrival made him jolt a bit, not having heard the woman at all until she spoke. Had he heard her enter the shop he would have made a mad dash out the door but he had been too enthralled in his work. Journal quickly closed he sat back in his seat, pen set to the side. There was an internal debate on whether he could just pack up and go, duck out the door and not come back for a week. Yet, her smile was disarming and her demeanor was rather pleasant, perhaps he was jump to conclusions too quickly.

“Uh… yeah, sure…” Abel stuttered, trying not to show just how panicked he actually was. Most people just left him be, others yelled at him to leave. Very few talked to him, even rarer was someone who actually wanted to have a conversation with him.

A hand waved to the place across from him, though the cuff on his wrist moved. Quick to place it back he folded his hands into his lap, a brief smile forming but it was obviously forced. She was pleasant enough though, and not too bad on the eyes, yet he seemed unnerved.

“What did you want to chat about?"

Shivering Bay

The Friday Farmer's Market was a cacophony of sound, the stalls and vendors having set up on Ocean Drive, the street that ran the length between the north and south beach. With the town on one side and the docks on the other people milled about all over, picking up fresh produce, perusing the presented crafts like handmade blankets, candles, and the like. The salt scented breeze brushing in from the sea kept the summer heat at bay, the late afternoon as pleasant as can be.

There were a couple of fairies with tiny little stall on top of a tall table, the clay pots the size of them having herbs and spices sprawling out every which way. Next to them was a faun peddling his hand stitched costumes, made in preparation for the midsummer night festival.

"Hey, Stuart!" one of the little fairies called out to the faun, having fluttered over to stand on one of his tables. Her voice was a squeaky little sound but it caught his ear.

"Yes Anita?" Stuart leaned down a bit to hear her better when she waved him closer.

"I was wondering if you could make me something special for the festival," she had quieted down a little, casting a glance back here and there to her partner, "And something for Delilah, too. I'm gonna propose to her when the bonfire is lit."

"Well, that's just down right adorable," a huge smile came across Stuart's face, his fluffy tail twitching this way and that in excitement, "Do you want the traditional summer court regalia or something inspired by your elements?"

"Can I have both? I..." Anita had given a glance again to her partner when she saw just who she was talking to. In a flurry of gossamer wings she rushed back to Delilah, waving her hands at the man as she looked up at him, "You! Shoo!"

"It's fine," Delilah tried to calm her down, "He's actually really nice, he just wants a mint plant."

"I don't care, I don't like him."

"That's so rude, he's standing right there!"

"I don't care!"

The two fairies continued their argument though from the sound of it the disagreement was becoming more than a little lovers' quarrel. Stuart stepped out of his stall, hooves clomping against the asphalt as he put himself between the fairies and the man, "I think you should leave."

The tone was more than enough for Abel Revnik to turn away and shove off through the crowd. There was a look of guilt, feeling quite bad for having started the debacle but he hadn't meant to. With a canvas grocery bag full of fruits and veggies he stopped off at a couple more stalls to pick up a few more things, never meeting the stares or flinching at the whisperings. It was just another day out in public for him.

A café at the end of the market line was ducked into, the smiling face of the centaur barista, Sloane, much easier to deal with. Abel always found it so compelling to watch him delicately move behind the counter, the horse part never seemed to be a hindrance as he already started to work, "The usual, Mister Revnik?"

"Please," he already dug into his pocket, the exact amount for his iced mocha placed on the counter with a couple bucks tossed into the tip jar. Picking up his drink at the other end Abel plopped himself to a booth at the very back end of the café, facing away from the entrance just to hide himself more.

Journal retrieved from the grocery bag set next to him he pulled a pen from his pocket, opening the book to a blank page to begin writing.

Shivering Bay

Name: Abel Revnik
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Species: Unknown

Appearance
Upon first glance Abel looks like just another guy with his own style, atleast seen from his left side. On the right side of his face there's a long scar that stretches from his hairline down to his jaw, tendrils of marred skin reaching up to his pierced ear through the thin beard. The long charcoal black hair hangs loose, looking more like a rat's nest with choppy bangs going everywhich way. Standing no taller than 6'1" his doesn't weigh more than 180 lbs, the pinnacle of a humanoid string bean.

The muted blue eyes seem as devoid of color as his ghostly pale skin, a cigarette seen dangling from his fingers more often than not. The most tentative observer would note that he never wears a shirt that comes above the elbow and doesn't show anything of his chest or back. He never wears anything other than faded cargo pants that are either olive green or faded black with worn out leather flip flops. The only jewelry he has is a black leather cuff with a single silver buckle on his right wrist and both ears pierced with several steel rings from tip to lobe.

Personality
Hardly any words are ever stated when Abel is out and about, giving more of a nod of his head or a smile than actually speaking. Otherwise he quietly goes about his own way, trying to be a wall flower despite sticking out like a sore thumb to the citizens of Shivering Bay.

The shop keepers to the stores he does frequent often have cracked his shell somewhat, finding that he's quite polite and soft spoken. By their accounts he's quite the gentleman. Or is he?

Bio
The only real papertrail, whether physical or digital, starts in Shivering Bay with Abel Revnik renting one of the most expensive houses directly on the south beach. Even his name wasn't publically known until a clerk at city hall dug up the paperwork since the house was being rented out by them, the previous owner having passed away from old age. When his name is plugged into the system nothing pops up in the police database for anywhere in the world. It's as if he came out of thin air.

On a day to day basis the citizens keep a watchful eye on him, of which he is well aware of but it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Mondays he stops at the five and dime store, always purchasing a new spiral bound journal and a pack of clove cigarettes. The cashiers actually started a betting game to see which journal cover color he bought. Wednesdays he makes one quick trip to the bakery, getting a dozen cupcakes. They too have a betting game to see which flavor he gets. Fridays he leisurely strolls through the farmer's market whether they suspect, by deduction of what he buys, is that he's a vegetarian.

All in all Abel Revnik seems to keep to himself, but no one can figure out what he is. There's no wings, no horns, no tail, no fur, he just seems plain which in a world where all of those aspects are every day sightings he's unsettling to those that do have them, which is everyone.

Shivering Bay

Shivering Bay

Located on the coast of South Carolina this sleepy little town is a getaway for those that actually know it exists on the map. There are no signs pointing to Shivering Bay from the highways and backcountry roads, most directions having to be drawn on a local map to anyone trying to find it. From the ocean it looks like just another fishing town, getting by with what the citizens catch from the depths. But in reality it's so much more.

The known world is filled with modernized magic; cafes using fairy dust to add more pep to coffee and construction companies hiring werewolves to demolish old buildings just to name a few. Much of the day-to-day magic is minimal and used in constructive ways, many in the population forgetting the great powers of old. But in Shivering Bay those that prefer the ways of their ancestors take shelter, growing their powers and practicing their magic as if they anticipate the global peace to snap at any moment.

The air changed in Shivering Bay the day a stranger arrived, observed closely like any other visitor would be. Yet a larger question is posed as the days progress; Why are the usually peaceful but cautious people of Shivering Bay starting to act strange?

OOC Town Notes

Shivering Bay evolves through RP, any stores and landmarks are made up on the spot as the story progresses. The town itself is set right on the edge of the water with beach area both north and south of it while Main Street cuts straight through the middle of town. Only a small two lane road connects to Main Street which the connection to the outside world. There are a few dirt roads that can lead into the outer edge of town but they're mostly overgrown.

With such isolation the town has become quite self sufficient, most houses and restraurants having their own gardens. It's common sight to see neighbors trading fruits and vegetables across fences or at the local farmer's market. The shop owners order their inventory with all the deliveries going to a warehouse at the end of Main Street where it meets the outer road.

By every means the townspeople try to keep their gem of a home away from the eyes of the world, making a conscious effort to remain under radar.

OOC World Notes

There is little change from our world to the modern world that Shivering Bay exists in. The Internet exists along with all the technological advances, the only real differences is that nearly all fantasy species exist and magic is an accepted attribute.

Companies across the world differ on magic in the workplace, along with laws for magic used in crimes. Black magic is tolerated as long as it is not used to commit a crime. But the most notable is that blood magic is outlawed due to the ethics of needing, well, blood.

The Consortium: Howl of the Yellow King Disciples (Accepting 1 more)

Late. Late again.

Hayley was going to be late for her own funeral at the rate she was going. The meeting had been written down on her mental calendar but damn the tunnel vision she got while working on things. The stairs were nearly given a sacrifice from her face a few times with how much she was rushing, thankfully catching the handrail before she ate it.

It was the increasingly louder screams that hurried her down to the basement levels, fearing the worst but hoping it was just rowdy second years. The red coat came away, left on the last landing before she came to the double doors, the inexplicably cold doorknobs to the double doors were a telltale sign. Heart dropping into her stomach she rammed her shoulder against the door, forcing it open and stumbling into the testing floor chamber.

The chaos ensuing was taken in, all of it far beyond any of her expectations. This place was supposed to be safe. In quick observation she saw the one going after Reitz, two after Isaacs and Hartwell, and two tearing into the general populace. Snap decision made she started to barrel through the panicked crowd to the middle of the room, grabbing people by whatever limb she could get her hands on to throw them towards the door she just came through.

No words were said, there was no point trying to yell above all the noise of those being ripped apart or being down right cowards. All she had was determination, drawing the energy rifle up from it's sling, the attached lantern dangling off the back of her belt. There was only two people's lives she was concerned with and they were the founding fathers. The Consortium leader should be able to hold his own, atleast that was her deductive reasoning.

The high pitched whine of the energy charging up rung in her ears, the glow of her lantern casting blue all around her. Her aim was set on one of the two, waiting for that edge of a full charge to fire as the panicked people ran into her which only made Hayley plant her feet even more.

The second it was ready she pulled the trigger, praying to whatever gods existed that it worked.

The Consortium: Howl of the Yellow King Disciples (Accepting 1 more)

So @Karos & @Azlum that leaves you with....

read if you're caught up

having the huge responsibility of either saving the founding fathers of the Consortium from the red wraiths, or assisting our overly ambitious leader from the uber Umayeth Wraith. No pressure :)

@Algorhythm

@karos I'll take the part in yellow.

The Consortium: Howl of the Yellow King Disciples (Accepting 1 more)

@justTypical Gonna give him one more night, if I don't see anything by midday tomorrow I'll post up.

Don't worry, the big bad wraiths won't get cutesy wootsey Benny Wenny

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@catchamber

Bring it.

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@catchamber

The cop trying to find victims in reality, being kidnapped is always fun.