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Wych (open and accepting!)

" . . . Three pouches of herbs!? For that!?" Sigrid exclaimed in mock surprise. The morning's trading is quickly coming to a lovely end. Throughout the day, she had seen her bag of things empty and fill up multiple times. She had promised herself three exchanges ago that that was the last one, and this time she intended to go through.

"The fruits I pick are the highest quality in the village, and my hide is the most fertile in perhaps the entire eorldom," the man said, turning his nose up.

"Isn't that what the other man . . . what was his name . . . Æthelbald, said?" Sigrid said. She had to hide her giggles when the farmer's blood vessels began to pulse in his neck.

"Well, that inbred cow thinks he can grow better pears than me, eh? Well, taste changes depending on who's buying, but price is constant! At two pouches of herbs, that makes one of my pears the less disagreeable price, doesn't it?" the farmer sneered. Sigrid couldn't believe her luck. She didn't even know there were any other farmers, and she just picked a name out of her mind.

"At one and a half, not only are your pears at the least disagreeable price, they are the most delicious as well!" she said. Still, he looked on the fence, so she took the initiative, plopping down one pouch of herbs and another smaller one, and nabbing a pear. Best not let him think too much. "A pleasure buying from you," she said, flashing him a wide grin. "How's that?" she asked Mildemaer, tossing the large, ripe pear in her hands. "Fancy some pears for breakfast?"

Wych (open and accepting!)

Sigrid laughed. "Everybody's a miser," she said. As far as she has seen, that was true. Up and down the rivers, from small villages with no name all the way to grand Lundenwic itself, the locals worshipped money more than they worshipped Jesu of the Cross. Her mind went back to her early days, when she was but fourteen, and the long hours of haggling and sweet-talking that went into every little transaction. No matter how she seemed to win them over, the final price was never where she wanted it to be. Ruefully, she reminded herself in her head that those times can't have been longer than a year ago, and not to get so high-and-mighty about experience she didn't yet have. Though still not yet visible, the bells of the town square rang out, piercing through the early morning. It was the church, no doubt. "Come, I'll race you to the village," Sigrid said, a grin creeping across her freckled face.

No town she had ever seen was quiet, and this one was not to be an exception. The shouting of angry traders, the crunching of famished peasants, and the preaching of zealous priests permeated the square and its surrounding woods, possibly for furlongs out. Sigrid unslung her sack from her shoulder and loosened the tie, quickly counting up the contents of its insides. Metals were a precious thing, and she was too smart now to flash it in front of everybody like a Jarl. No, this time she would be smart. Trade goods for goods, like a local would, and try to go through the morning without having to dig into her coins at all. "Care to show me around?" she asked. Mildemaer didn't seem like the deceitful sort, not to her at least. Better yet, she must know some of the locals. This would be a good time to get into the market, as well as the good books of a couple of big names. Already, she could imagine how she would leave this town, her karve spilling over the sides with radiant gold and silver.

Wych (open and accepting!)

Sigrid stopped, hearing the sound of a chipper voice. Was it calling to her? She turned, and saw to her surprise saw a tangled mess of brown hair right before her face. Below that were a pair of shining eyes, both affixed to her. "Ves heil," Sigrid responded. Oops. She had let a bit of her accent come through. In her mind, she was panicking, trying to worm her way out of a rude encounter, and praying to Loki the trickster that the other girl suspects nothing. "Ay, It's the market for me. You?" By the instinct drilled into her through experience, one of Sigrid's hands wandered down to her belt, where her coinpouch hung. Best not let the other girl get too close. "I'm Sibley. From . . . " Come on, she has sailed the entire Thames by now! She must know a town far enough away that her false step could be mistaken for a local accent. " . . . Sweyn's Dun. What's your name?"

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Well, I think I am.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Kutur didn't remember offering his hand to Kali, but the next thing he knew, he was being dragged through the winding streets, through alleys and backroads he had never seen before. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't shake his worrying about the contents of his pack. It felt wrong to be contemplating work when he should be anticipating leisure, but that was just the way he was. Illumination was a time-consuming process. Imbuing the paper with magic took strong focus and long hours of thinking, but he had nobody to assist him. Who on the whole city knew the Red Discipline of Bythesea like he did? Who in the whole city even knew magic like he did?

Still, he allowed himself to marvel at the little surprise Kali showed him. True, it was unlike a glamorous restaurant like those that littered the street corners in all the Bythesea cities. True, it was also unlike the more humble eating shacks that seemed so popular with the commoner dracons. However, Xigyll finally had one of . . . whatever it is . . . of its very own. "Erm . . . I don't have any coin on me," Kutur said, sheepishly remembering. He had dropped everything when his master came to retrieve him, and hadn't had a chance to go back for his gold. The Constantsea bag wasn't even his, it being a gift from Exarch Rokkar to all of the magisters. What was he supposed to do for this . . . place?

Wych (open and accepting!)

Sigrid hummed to herself as she arranged the messy deck of her ship. There were as many wares hanging over the sides as littered all over the wooden floor, and it seemed that no matter how well she left it, the moment she turned her back it reverted to its piles and mess. Still, though, this was the life she decided to live, and she relished every morning she awoke on the deck. Grandfather was off to Helheim, having died of sickness and age, but before he did, he worked his surest in making her a woman as he saw it. She hated every second she had to clean the house, but now she found herself grateful in the most minuscule way that she learned to handle such things on her own.

As the chorus to one of Grandfather's old sea-songs came to a close, Sigrid attached the last hammer to a hook and threw it over the side, bringing her morning chore to a close. She allowed herself a wide grin, knowing through a recently found experience that she was done earlier than usual. Perhaps there might even be time to visit the local shops and do some trading. Carefully, she selected various items from her carefully-stacked piles, doing something of a river dance on her deck to avoid disturbing them and having to start her morning chores over. Dry fruits, bread, cookingware, tools, slowly she filled a sack with her own possessions. Patting her coinpurse, she set off for the town square, a smile on her face. Before she could go, though, she had one more thing to do. Sigrid bent down on the wet shore where her boat was tied up, and picked up a generous pile of brown clay. With a slight grimace, she poured the mud over her head, then rubbed it along her scalp, trailing her fingers all the way down to the fringes of her hair. She admired her handiwork in the stream, looking for all the world like an Angle girl. Now, she was ready for the market.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

" . . . And don't forget to call. I want to hear all about everything, okay?" Theodora said. Lukas could see the worry in her eyes. He knew how much she liked being in control of things, and being able to watch over things in her life, him most of all. Slowly, she revealed what she's been keeping in her pocket. "Here," she says, extending it out to him. "Dad took an extra shift at work. Last week, he was able to scrape up enough money for this." Lukas couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a smartphone. Used, beat-up, and a few generations past, but a smartphone nonetheless. Tentative, he reached out and took it.

"I promise," Lukas said. He pulled Theodora into a tight embrace. This was turning out harder than he had imagined. No amount of preparing could ready himself. For the first time in his entire life, she would not be the first thing he sees every morning, preparing his breakfast and lecturing him about his grades. Mom worked the graveyard shift in a small-town bank, and would usually be passed out in bed when he was going to school. He felt her arms wrap around him.

"Relax, it'll only be what, six weeks?" she said with a smile. "You'll be back home in a flash. And when you do, it's my turn on the DS, got it?" He nodded, cracking a small smile. "Alright. I'm going now . . . try to have fun." With that, she got back in her rusty old car, and with a puff of smoke and a series of ghastly grinding noises, she was gone. Lukas looked up at the entrance, the gate separating the camp from the rest of the world. Oh well, nothing left to do but go in. He took one nervous step forward, not really wanting to, but forcing himself. Then another. Before he knew it, he was inside.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Name: Lukas Morios
Age: 15
Appearance: Lukas is everything you'd expect from a child of Greek immigrants. He is tall and swarthy, and completely black of hair and eye. True, his nose is a little big, and true, his eyes are a little close together, but his parents always tell him never to judge himself by his appearance, and that's good enough for him.

Reason for coming to camp: Lukas' parents wanted him away from home for the summer. Between him, his older sister, and their intensive work lives, who could blame them? Besides, he was told that camp was a fun place of activities and nature. However, he only really agreed when they finally relented and allowed him to bring his DS along.

Ability: Lukas has the inexplicable ability to turn his whole self into stone at will. He is either a complete statue or a complete human, and is unable to assume a half-form. When he is stone, he is unable to move or speak, yet may still think and perceive the world around him. Also, his doctor says he has a high blood pressure, but that's probably not a superpower.

Bio: Lukas' family was not poor by any means, but they were struggling when he was born. Both of his parents worked long hours for little pay, and thus he was largely taken care of by his sister Theodora (under the careful eye of their parents). His friends would sometimes complain about how annoying their siblings were, but he never really got it. Theodora was cool. She once told Lukas that he had accidentally called her "mama" back when he was two, and it took months of explaining for his baby self to understand otherwise. He doesn't really believe it.

Lukas never really kept his power under wraps. The first time the public really got wind of it was when he himself exhibited his power for "show and tell". This put him and the rest of his family under a county watchlist. It's okay, though. Inspector Melitonni was cool. He kept a good rapport with the Morioi family, and Lukas was always teasing Theodora about having a crush on Officer Melitonni's son. Sometimes, he would provide a monetary leg up when times got really hard, and he even gifted the family his son's old DS, which the two Morioi kids would not stop fighting over. In fact, it was he that handed them the flyers to the summer camp, and offered to foot part of the bill.

So, here he was, being driven up the hill by his sister, who he had completely tuned out as she talked. Here he was, watching the grass go by, wondering just how exactly he got here. He hoped the flyer was true, and that camp was a place to make new friends, but he doubted it. Advertisement was never completely honest anyway.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Name: Lukas Morios
Age: 15
Appearance: Lukas is everything you'd expect from a child of Greek immigrants. He is tall and swarthy, and completely black of hair and eye. True, his nose is a little big, and true, his eyes are a little close together, but his parents always tell him never to judge himself by his appearance, and that's good enough for him.

Reason for coming to camp: Lukas' parents wanted him away from home for the summer. Between him, his older sister, and their intensive work lives, who could blame them? Besides, he was told that camp was a fun place of activities and nature. However, he only really agreed when they finally relented and allowed him to bring his DS along.

Ability: Lukas has the inexplicable ability to turn his whole self into stone at will. He is either a complete statue or a complete human, and is unable to assume a half-form. When he is stone, he is unable to move or speak, yet may still think and perceive the world around him. Also, his doctor says he has a high blood pressure, but that's probably not a superpower.

Bio: Lukas' family was not poor by any means, but they were struggling when he was born. Both of his parents worked long hours for little pay, and thus he was largely taken care of by his sister Theodora (under the careful eye of their parents). His friends would sometimes complain about how annoying their siblings were, but he never really got it. Theodora was cool. She once told Lukas that he had accidentally called her "mama" back when he was two, and it took months of explaining for his baby self to understand otherwise. He doesn't really believe it.

Lukas never really kept his power under wraps. The first time the public really got wind of it was when he himself exhibited his power for "show and tell". This put him and the rest of his family under a county watchlist. It's okay, though. Inspector Melitonni was cool. He kept a good rapport with the Morioi family, and Lukas was always teasing Theodora about having a crush on Officer Melitonni's son. Sometimes, he would provide a monetary leg up when times got really hard, and he even gifted the family his son's old DS, which the two Morioi kids would not stop fighting over. In fact, it was he that handed them the flyers to the summer camp, and offered to foot part of the bill.

So, here he was, being driven up the hill by his sister, who he had completely tuned out as she talked. Here he was, watching the grass go by, wondering just how exactly he got here. He hoped the flyer was true, and that camp was a place to make new friends, but he doubted it. Advertisement was never completely honest anyway.

Caravan ~ A Mid-Fantasy, lore heavy RP. Adventure, Action, and Mystery focused.

This looks pretty interesting. Could I take one of those open spaces?