Avatar of Black Ninja
  • Last Seen: 7 mos ago
  • Old Guild Username: Black Ninja
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 579 (0.15 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Black Ninja 11 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

Recent Statuses

5 yrs ago
@littleone - No. The world would not be better off without you. Those who know you will greatly miss you. Hang in there. Sometimes it might not seem like it but you mean a lot to those who love you.
4 likes
5 yrs ago
I'm alive. I'm going to see if I can get back into a bit more active. I have a good feeling about this year but then again, it just started so :/ lol
1 like
5 yrs ago
Currently alive....for whatever that is worth.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
I'm in the process of moving so I'm currently a bit CrAzY at the second. Hopefully, I'll be back to normal reply schedule soon (after the move and the insanity of getting basic unpacking done)
2 likes
6 yrs ago
Been sick for two weeks. Not fun at all :/ Just FYI

Bio

Current Status (updated 12.6.21):
I've quit my job and am currently job hunting. I'm hoping that and a few other things will help me enjoy life again.
I am around a bit though better to discuss on discord.

I'm not looking for new partners/stories at this time.

Most Recent Posts

Roger leaned back, thoughtfully. He didn't even blink when she mentioned we. It was automatically assumed that he would be with her on this journey. Together they would figure out what who sent the letter and find what they needed to recover the research her father had hidden. He just hoped that no trouble would come while they were at it. If Dr. Brown believed there was enough of a threat that he had his friend hold the letter for a year after his death, then Roger needed need to stay alert and make sure no harm came to Bea. He didn't know what he would do if something happened to her.

He turned his thoughts back to her comment. He was the type to take his time thinking through things. He didn't rush, he didn't blurt out whatever came to his mind first. He thought about it, pondered it, and then - if necessary - spoke. That was what he liked about Bae. Most people got annoyed that he didn't always blurt out ideas or offer his opinion right away but she didn't mind. He looked up. "You recognized the handwriting," he said more as an observation. "Hmm. We could but it's doubtful they'll know. Unless it's a smaller courier service." He frowned thoughtfully. "Do you you still have your father's letters - the ones he got from his university roommates? Maybe it's one of them."

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. They hadn't been in touch much when he worked there. In fact, he only remembered Dr. Brown mentioning them one time and how they had been close. Dr. Brown wouldn't send it to someone he was in close contact with. That would be among the first places his enemies would look. No, he would send it to someone older - someone he trusted but didn't stay in contact with.
Roger took a bite as he sat there enjoying Bea's company. I received a letter today. Her words caused him to look up. A letter? Indirectly from my father. Not expecting that, Roger nearly dropped his sandwich. He set it down in front of him and looked at her. Receiving a letter from her father, even indirectly, though no doubt good, probably brought back many painful memories. "What did it say?" He asked. He hoped that it was warm wishes, something to bring back the good memories she had of him, not the painful ones. When she handed him the letter, he took it gently. Glancing at her face once more he had a sinking feeling even before he started to read.

His eyes scanned the text fairly quickly, his heart sinking lower as went along. This was not good at all. This did not help. He handed her back the letter. The fact her father felt he was being watched, and assumed he might die was not lost on Roger. Considering they had found his body two days later was not coincidental. He thought about that. The doctor had ruled it as natural causes, but was it? They had done no autopsy. They had just assumed. There was no sign of duress or anything that would lead to them questioning it. He reached out and touched Bae's hand offering comfort.

In a way, he too felt the loss. Though not family, the eccentric professor had been a bit of a father-figure for him. Roger had the privilege of being able to work with him on some of his experiments before going into the army. His death had been unexpected. Though, nothing he felt could have been what Bae had felt. He had lost a father, he understood. But to have one's father murdered? Assuming of course that was the case, which was now looking that way. Roger couldn't imagine. He knew how his father had died. It was war. It wasn't personal. Not like this.

He didn't say I'm sorry. He knew it didn't help. He just sat there, his hand on hers providing comfort. "What are you going to do about the map?" he asked. He knew her. She wasn't going to just leave it as was. It was a tie to her father, another way to remember him...maybe even to honor him. Or so he thought.

When she mentioned not knowing where to look, he frowned, finally removing his hand. Didn't want to make her feel awkward. A few moments, yes. Too long and it might no longer be received as comforting. "Who delivered it? Can you follow up with him? Maybe he knows where to look."

Name: Savile
Age: 27
Appearance:
Magic: Earth Mage
He heard the person before he saw him. Cerith came to a halt as the blond boy came into view. A child. In the woods. Cerith wondered if this was a trap. Though he had never seen it before, he had heard of the Council using people seeking help to trap wizards. Thankfully, this boy seemed to chipper to really need help and Annabelle knew him. Cerith relaxed slightly as she greeted the boy. Cerith noted the child's name in his head. He meet the scrutiny without blinking, keeping his face as impassive as ever. Not that it helped. The boy just grinned and introduced himself.

Cerith resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Some people were far to trusting. The fact he knew Annabelle and she him probably meant that this Aaron was a wizard - or a child of one, which in the Council's eyes was just as bad. It was a shame one so young had to hide. Thankfully it looked like he had a good attitude about it. Not that it won't get a bit annoying after awhile. Cerith continued to study the young man as Annabelle replied. He didn't bother introducing himself. That would come. Not that it would matter. The boy would not recognize him or his name. Annabelle didn't and she was older.

They started to walk again. Cerith hung back slightly. He hadn't spent a lot of time around children. Most parents kept their kids away from him and he was far to busy going on quests to be around some of the other guild members' kids. He raised an eyebrow at Aaron's invite. Very friendly bunch. He was a bit concerned that they might be too trusting. "Are all of you this trusting?" He asked, his tone a bit cutting. He didn't mean to cut, it just came out that way. But it didn't seem to bother Aaron. Cerith listened to him go on about how wizards can be trusted and not everyone in the group trusted. Cerith listened while at the same time minding his surroundings.

He saw it just a moment before it came. "Watch out." He called as suddenly the ground shot up around them. A stone wall entrapped them. He moved into a defensive position as a young man elevated himself on the stone. Another person stood at his right.

Both individuals glared down at them. "Annabelle." The young man said narrowing his eyes. "Who is this?" There was no warmth in his tone.
The Allure was a Flynter class airship. Formally used as an air vessel during the Great War it had since been retired and retrofitted for merchant use. It was one hundred and fourteen meters long with a beam of of twelve meters. As a military vessel it held a complement of about three hundred and twenty-nine but after the modification it only required a crew of about sixty-two. Though not the speediest vessel, the Allure could cross the Atlantic in about seven days, ten if the weather was bad. Whenever it came into port, there usually was a bit of trouble. Thus the reason why the dock foreman liked to have a good security presence around.

Roger stood arms crossed next to another security guard as they watched the Allure get tied down. It came in at a bad timing. Big Ben had just stuck quarter to the hour and he had promised he would meet Bea for lunch. Horus, the other security guard, shook his head as the ropes were secure. "Hope you don't have plans tonight," he said.

Roger didn't reply. He knew as well as Horus that they both would working late.

The dock foreman came over. He crossed his big beefy arms. "Ah, the Allure." He shook his head. "Let's hope they take their festivals off the dock this time." His turned and spat. Secure, the crew started to unload the cargo. The foreman looked at the two. "The unloading will take awhile and we know the captain won't release the crew until the cargo is unloaded." He glanced in the direction of Big Ben. "You both go to lunch. It's going to be a long afternoon."

Horus didn't wait to be told twice. He took off. Roger looked at the foreman. "You sure?" Though soft spoken he spoke confidently and clearly.

The foreman nodded. "Yeah, Thomas and Erik just got back. The three of us can keep an eye on them." He smirked and slapped Roger on the back. "Go. Don't want to keep your girl waiting."

Roger didn't bother correcting him. The more he protested that they were friends the more they hassled him about it. He nodded. "Thank you, Sir. I'll keep it brief."

He walked away briskly. There was a small restaurant near Oxford University that he usually met Bea at. He reached it just as Big Ben chimed the hour. Looking around he felt a bit of relief knowing he hadn't kept her waiting. He headed to a corner table and set his hat aside.

He smiled when he saw her and quickly stood. "Bae." He pulled out her chair. Sitting down he looked across at her. His eyes narrowed slightly at her countenance. Something was bothering her. The waitress deposited their usual food down. Roger nodded his thanks and poured the tea. After a quick blessing he looked across at Bae. He knew this had to be a hard time for. The anniversary of her father's death had just occurred and it didn't help she had her final examinations next week. However, he didn't press. He knew she would talk about it when she was ready. He picked up a sandwich.
~~~~~~
Estella kept her face impassive as she listened to her dismissal, mixed in with a few racial slurs and curse words. She wasn't disappointed. In fact, she was a bit relieved. She had learned early on in the trip that this wasn't going to work. If they hadn't beaten her to it, she would have resigned anyway. As it was though, she had been lucky they waited until they were back in London before they dumped her. It would have been very difficult to find passage back from the States.

As the first mate finished, she accepted her pay and picked up her bag. Escorted off the ship she didn't even look back, ignoring the rest of the crew and the remarks they made she left the Allure behind. She did not immediately leave the docks but instead walked among the airships, admiring the range and working her way to the small shop at the end. As she walked in through the door, she tapped the rusty sign proclaiming Parts & Repairs, making it swing as she entered.

A short man wearing googles and worn overalls looked up from a piece of scrap. A smile crossed his wrinkled face, showing a mouth missing a few teeth. "Estella!" He said upon seeing her.

Estella gave a smile. "Rufus." She looked around the shop. "Anything troublesome you needed help on?"

"Always." The old man waved her over toward the back room. "I can always use your help on a few things." He stood by the door taping his fingers together, watching her closely. "I kept most everything the same." He watched as Estella pulled down the bunk and then put it back. She turned and looked at him. "How long can you stay?" he asked.

Estella chuckled at his eagerness. "I have no current prospects at the second. So I guess I can stay a couple days." She laughed at his look of pleasure. Setting her bag down she looked at the pile of junk he had stacked for her. "Let's see what toys you have for me."
Story Synopsis To Date:



The man sat at his desk, the quill pen quickly flying across the paper. He usually wrote extremely neat but he was in a hurry. He glanced over his shoulder toward the door, accidentally leaving a slight smudge on the edge of the page. Seeing no one there he quickly went back to the letter. He was near finished. A few quick flourishes later and he was done. He set the pen aside and quickly reread the letter:

April 26th, 1929.
My Dearest Beatrix,

If you are reading this then I have no doubt met my demise.
To think that only next week you will be coming home from the university.
I pray that I will be here to great you and celebrate your birth year but I fear that it won't be.

As you know many people asked me to renew my work now that there is an increase of faith in the mystics but I have refused.
You too have asked me why I have stopped before but I have never given you a clear answer. For that I beg your forgiveness.
What you have could not have known is that I have continued some of my work in secret. Just recently I believe I have stumbled upon something that will show that all those years were not for naught. I was going to show it to you when you returned and together reveal it to the world, thus the surprise I had written to you about. However, I fear that it will not be so.

I believe I'm being watched. I don't have time to go into the reasoning but just know I am not being a paranoid old man. (Though, I pray that I am). To ensure that my research does not fall into the wrong hands, I have hidden it in a secret location. Half the map I have enclosed in this package, half I have sent elsewhere for safekeeping. A dear friend of mine will hold onto this for me in case something happens. I have already given him instructions to hold this and to only give it to you a year after I disappear or die. (They will follow you at first to see if you have any knowledge and I dare not involve you in this). Only after the year transpires should he have this delivered to you.

I ask that you forgive me for my secrecy. Looking back there was so much I wish I could have spoken with you about. I swear that if my fears are for nothing and I do see you next week, I will tell all. I will answer all your questions and tell you stories about your mother that you have always begged me to tell. Oh you would have loved her. She was my light, my angel. You remind me of so much of her...

I must go. I dare not hold this off any longer.
Until next week, my dearest.

Regards,

Papa

The man quickly set the paper down. Picking up a worn photograph he looked at the picture. It was of his wife and two daughters. He brushed it gently. Snapping to, he put it inside the paper and folded it up. Picking up another piece of paper he placed both in an envelope. Sealing it he stood and placed it into his coat. Grabbing his hat, he dashed out the door. Little did he know then that he would only have two days to live.

---
Satisfied that the young woman was who she said she was, the boy held out the package. It was a bit wrinkled and looked like it had seen better days. There was no return sender and the Ms. Beatrix Brown was written in an unfamiliar handwriting. He smiled as she took the letter. "You're welcome, Miss," he replied. He would have stuck around for a tip but a glare from the older woman made him decide that he really didn't need one. He took a step back. "'ave a nice day," he said before dashing off. The day was young and he had a lot to do.

Ms. Mortimer glared at the retreating boy before turning her attention to Beatrix. "Well don't just stand there child," she huffed. "Open it."

There were three things well-known about Ms. Mortimer. One, she had tea every afternoon preciously from three o'clock to three-fifteen and woe to anyone who dared disturb her during that time. The second was her displeasure of young men. Hooligans She would say. Only seeking trouble. But the most known thing about her was her insatious desire to know everything. And considering she was a major gossip, it made living with her extremely difficult.

"Well dear?" She asked closing the door.


Like all things, it started with the lust for power. Europe at the turn of the 20th century was a powder-keg waiting to explode. Tension were high as each power house vied for dominance in the race to be the most industrialized nation. The rise of the steam engine and all that transpired from it become the driving force for this mechanical race. Nations strove to make bigger buildings, bigger boats, bigger airships, bigger guns... bigger everything. All for the intent to have bigger power. They formed alliances, the small seeking assurance with the strong. And the race continued.

In 1913, the powder-keg exploded leading to outright strife then to warfare. What was mainly Europe, with a few non-European powers, soon exploded to encompass nearly every land mass: The America’s, Africa, large portions of Asia, and even a few skirmishes in Australia.
The war did not stop the arms race, in fact it escalated it. More powerful machines were invented. But even with the newly initiated battle automatons the war is bloody and drags on for years.

Finally, after seven years of bloody fighting a ceasefire is reached, with no true winner declared. The world merely reached a point that if they had continued, mutual destruction would have been the outcome and no one wanted to win by being defeated. So the nations of the world agreed to a cease-fire and a sort of peace settled - at least on the surface. The cold war had began. Nations responded differently. A few, totally withdrawn into themselves, becoming isolationists, avoiding outside influence, placing heavy tariffs on imported goods and few, if any visitors allowed in. Other countries continue on as before, pouring money and goods into the armed forces and defense at a heavy toll to the civilian population. While others still have turned more peaceful, even if they keep a hyper vigilant eye on their easy peace.

It is now 1930, the “cold peace” has lasted for ten years. Many people hope that maybe true peace is possible, but bitterness and longer burning opposition still lingers and threats to bubble the pot again. Technology has continued to advance with massive airships, steam-ironclads, automatized tanks and animals. However, there was a corresponding rise to mysticism. Even among the educated, there is more than just talk about things of divine, supernatural, or other worldly. Churches started to fill again, cults were founded believing in things anywhere from mysterious orbs to elite beings that would revolutionize the world.

Doctor Edwin Brown had always been one of the the world's foremost experts on Mysticism. Initially thought as a quack by majority of the scientific community for his field of interest, he allegedly destroyed his work and refused to publish anything more on the subject. With the rise of mysticism, many asked him to pick up his research again. The London Institute of Science and Technology offered him a position but he refused. Stubborn and bitter, Doctor Brown refused, keeping to himself and rarely seeing anyone - except his daughter and a few old friends. When he died of a heart-attack in 1929, he was honored by the London Institute of Science and Technology as a hero with many calling him the Father of Mysticism. But the populace and many government officials were split on what to think of him. Some despised him for his refusal to lead the world on while others made him a saint in their various cults. Very few realized that Doctor Brown had not destroyed all of his work and that he had stumbled upon something that the would indeed change the world. Something that many would kill for.

And so the Spring of 1930 rolled around much like the turn of the 20th century. Tensions were high with a new race to unlock the secrets of the mystics - some for peace, others for final dominance. At the back of everyone's mind was the worry that war would again break out and this time, would not stop until there was complete victory - or utter devastation.

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The courier ran up the stairs and rapped door. He barely glanced over the sign beside the door that read: Ms. Mortimer's Boarding Home for Elegant Young Ladies. He turned slightly away, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the door to open. It was the beginning of the day and he was eager to deliver the package and move on. The morning fog still hung lightly in the air giving the morning a bit of a misty look. The door opening caused him to turn his attention back. An older woman stood there glaring with a stern look behind her wire framed glasses. Her skirts blocked the doorway, making it near impossible to see past the entryway. "This is a ridiculously early hour. Young men are not permitted to call at this hour." She narrowed her eyes and started to close the door.

The young man removed his cap. "Mam, delivery for Ms. Brown," he said holding up the package.

Ms. Mortimer, the land lady of this fine establishment, glared down at the courier. "You interrupt our morning meal for a delivery? Couldn't you have at least waited until a reasonable hour to come by?" She sighed. "Very well, give it to me and I'll pass it on." She reached for the letter.

The young man snatched his hand back. "Sorry, Mam. I have to give this directly to Ms. Brown. Those are my strict orders. Honest to goodness."

The woman glared down at him, her eyes boring into him. He gave her a shrug as if to say it couldn't be helped. Finally she sighed. "Wait here," she said turning and closing the door. He could barely make out her grumbling about early morning and young people these days had no sense of decency.

The boy twisted his cap impatiently as he once again stood on the porch. He patted his satchel, filling the thickness. He had a whole parcel of packages and letters to deliver and didn't have time for this. But, he couldn't complain. It was his job and if he had to wait... well, he had to wait.

It took an antagonizing long time but eventually the door started to open. He turned. Seeing a younger woman he quickly straightened. Ignoring land lady hulking over the young woman's shoulder he looked at her openly. "Are you Ms. Brown?" He asked.
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Here you go @May. I'll have my character sheets up hopefully today.

I also have a cool map for Europe (it's actually steampunk 1825 but we'll adjust it slightly for our time period).
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