BunniesOfDoom

Wolf in City of Glass

youtu.be/yWNJ7V3AnhY

All creature at times become deaf or blind in their distractions. It is how hawks dive from the clouds with bent wings to seize their prey. It is what allows a fox to sneak up on a rabbit in the brush. Humanity is no different in the end, not really. Though often they tell themself otherwise, the worse of it still is to be stated. In their ignorance of the truth, they fill their lives with such numbing distractions. They bury their eyes into the screens of their phones, and fill their ears with the constant hum of noises produced by earbuds. Though they claim their birth right to be of the masters of this world, they are no different then mouse or hair. They are simply prey, telling themselves that they pull every last string like a puppet master.

Perhaps, ignorance is bliss after all.

The pencil slid across the page in steady even strokes, and Mal's ears took note of the scratching sound of it as at last the edgings was finished. It was hard to say the man was satisfied with his own work, and if pressed would merely call them doodles, but in the least it was somewhat pleasing. No, that which he had drawn wasn't the place to which he sat, or even had seen. It was somewhere that someday he would like to find. A place of dark deep woods, of babbling water, and peace enough to drift upon such a thing as that vessel which line by line his imagination had structured.

The man found his lips moving, softly singing under his own breath before he could silence them.

"Pencil glides with steady grace
Draws a dream
A far-off place
Woods so deep
Water so clear
A peace that whispers in my ear."

And for a moment, only that moment, Mal let his soul drift upon that song which had risen up inside of him unbidden and new. He could hear the river. He could taste the woods upon the air, and he could feel the peace settling over mind and muscle.

Fool
The harsh edge of his own thoughts all but growled at him in retort for such stupidity. Hand, which felt almost claw like in this angry moment, tore away the page with a noise of ripping paper and senseless dreams. No, he should not be distracted. No, he shouldn't think about anything other then the word -now-. No, he should not act like prey, despite the fact that he was indeed hunted. So, dark brown eyes set below oak colored hair turned themselves to the city of glass to which he inhabited. Sitting upon the steps of some old red brick domicile, the man let it all come rushing in to replace the senses muted by senseless dreaming.

Engines, drinking oil and gasoline, spewed foul odor and smoke. Music, laughter, and people caring nothing but for their own entertainment filled the air, only to be punctuated by screens on crowded streets barking out advertisements. Street performers were dotted on corners, only to argue with homeless begging for change. This was no New York, nor was it Chicago, but it was close to these crowded places. Body odor, perfumes, colognes, cigarette, e-vapes, and marijuana smoke where sharp tastes behind it all, though Mal could be said to have a sensitive nose compared to most.

One would think, a man dressed in a finery such as he, would not stoop so low as to sit on a... well stoop... but there he was with that drawing pad of his placed neatly upon his legs. The pencil left in crease of torn away page, forgotten about as attention moved through the herd of humanity.

Sunlight, bright for even this hour of noon, danced off reflective walls of towering giant buildings which stood to reach towards God itself upon its throne in heaven. Concrete bones held the structures solid, and steel muscles promised a thousand upon thousand years before collapse. Yet, they called it a city, but for him, Malcom, there could be no other word but cage that was brought to mind. A cage made to contain people. To force feed them information through digital veins and propaganda. Yes, it may sound like he was a conspiracy theorist, but there was little theory about it these days. People lied, they always will, always have. There was no theory about it anymore, and with the internet being the largest resource of information there ever was, people could simply educate themselves... yet per usual they merely wanted to repeat what they heard.

Mal didn't like thinking like this. Wanted to push such thoughts to the back of his mind. Dig a hole, bury them, and let humanity crumble far faster then this city ever would. A lift of his chest raised ribs outward, before the man (who was not really a man) gave off a heavy sigh. Hand drifted in habit to the side of his bearded jaw, ran his fingers to smooth over those chestnut strands of hair, and shook his head as Mal once more brought himself to a standing position. Book tucked safely within the confines of his jacket pocket, pencil secured in the little elastic loop, Mal in his stance of six foot even moved into the throng of motion that filled the streets.

Maybe it was his own animalistic tendencies, to either protect himself, or the innocents around him but the man was on high alert. Maybe it was still not used to being in places like this, or maybe he would never be in truth fully used to it at all. He was not from here, and his place of birth was much different. Yet, like a wolf in a businessman's clothing, Mal could move among them all the same. All of this was simply explain what happened next, and why he was aware of it.

If you're paying attention...
If you attune yourself...
... and listen to that inner voice....

You can almost -hear- it when someone is looking at you in a crowd. You can feel the pressure against your ears of someone saying your name from across a building. Even humanity could taste the aggression of a predator in a crowd such as this. It was instinctual. It natural. Well, that was as long as you weren't blinded by your phone, or deafened by those little rubber plugs that fed music into ears.

And Mal? Well Mal could feel, taste, hear, something wasn't right.
What was high alert, instantly became code red.

The crowd to which he was apart of was standing at a curb, a red hand on the other side of the street glowing upon the crosswalk sign paused their movements. Cars whipped by most likely faster then they should be traveling in congested areas, but still.. the hairs on the back of his neck were standing upon end.

So, concerned with his own safety, his own life, Mal didn't register the gasp at first. Didn't realize what had happened until he saw the woman tumbling out into the street. Someone had pushed a woman hard enough to all but throw her. Off balance, she tumbled right off the curb and into the road. Like a fox about to scoop up a hare, painted of red car came barreling forward, and like the song unbidden before... the man's body moved before he could stop it.

Arms, strong as the oak trees that his hair was colored after, wrapped about the female. Thick trunk of body was turned to shield her from the impact, the crumpling of metal, the crack of skull against windshield. This unknown woman, victim, was not immune to bruises, nor was she umbrellaed from the splash of blood which flew. They together were thrown to the hard embrace of the asphalt that lined the roads, and the screams that came after from within the crowd.

Though dazed, perhaps concussed, no major damage would have been done to the female... though the man? The man didn't look so good, even as those dark eyes looked at her from beside the littered remains of headlights. His gaze sought out hers, and perhaps as she would come to find out later... it was that blood... that blood that let her hear him. It wasn't his voice. It wasn't an escape from his lungs. It was something deeper. His thoughts. His mind. His wolf song in his very soul.

She is alive...

Right arm twisted in a way that humans were not made for, the limb lay limp at his side, as once more Mal tried to rise to his full height of six feet. The first attempt failed, tumbling, falling, impacting, driving his already swollen and damaged left side of face back to the hot pavement.

Fuck me... move damnit. MOVE

That song inside of him torrented like a crescendo. Using still undamaged arm, placing his palm against broken glass, heated asphalt and...
[To be continued when a dance partner for this story is found]
@Lighthouse

Wolf in City of Glass

I accidently added it here instead of in the IC one. Whoops. Oh well. Problem kinda solved I guess? Whatever lol

Within the tides of story telling.

C-Can I be your dance partner? The werewolf one! Please!

Hi there fellow roleplaying people

Thanks! I can't wait to get into some rps!

The Breaking of the Seals

The Breaking Of The Seals

There is a secret war that has always been raging between good and evil, angels and demons. Every since Lucifer was cast into Hell and became the lord of lies, demons have been pushing about the seven seals to break free from their prison. For many eons the seals stood strong but the world changed and cults that worshiped Lucifer and the demons rose. They were never truly strong enough to break through the seal completely but as the years went on, the seals grew weaker and weaker.

God had one rule. They must have free will. No matter how much trouble the cults were being, it was the very rule of God that the humans be allowed to do as they wished. However, that rule quacked and almost snapped when the first seal began to whither. The seals were only meant to be released by God himself and now, the first was cracking and eventually it snapped. That was when the first demons began to claw their way out of hell and snatch human souls for themselves. At first, it was not much of a matter. It was only a soul here and a soul there. However, as those souls turned into demons themselves, only to claw their way out and repeat the process, it was turning into a very big deal. Soon the scales were off balanced and more souls were going to hell than they were going to Heaven. And those demons that found themselves in the human world managed to break a second seal, unleashing even more demonic and hellish powers into the world.

Gabriel had seen enough and even though he knew they couldn't rid people of their free will, he knew he had to do something. He gathered his warriors around him and with God's blessings, rebirthed them as mortals into the human world. Nephilim, or angel born, were brought into the world so that they may combat the demons that now swarmed over God's creation, corrupting it and casting it into shadow. Their main goal was to grow strong and protect the remainder of the seals. However, there was a price to pay. Angels are heaven born and their whole purpose is to follow God's rule and proclaim his glory. To be removed from Heaven in such a way and cast into mortal flesh, it was absolute agony for the first of the Nephilim. They went mad before they were even able to make a mark on the world. So Gabriel came up with a solution, erase their memory of Heaven all together and the glory that is their God. They would truly be born again, mortal and naïve to the biblical war and truths around them. However, this too rose a problem. If the angels did not remember who they were, how were they to fight the demons and bring the world back to balance?

Michael offered up a solution in the Prophets. Prophets were already down on the earth, spreading the word of their God and speaking his truths for all that would hear. Now, instead of focusing their skill on spreading the truth to the human race, they would use their gifts of sight and tongue to find the angel born and help raise them to the warriors that they needed to be. They would bless the Prophets with above average skills so that they could remain alive and keep their charges alive. It seemed like a good, solid plan. However, no plan lasts upon first contact with the enemy.

Once the demons found out that these angel born existed, it became their main goal to rid the world of them. It was almost like a game. The stronger the Nephilim they killed, the more points they would get and even more points for the Prophets. So the demons went out hunting and the search for weak, untrained Nephilim began. Prophets were now on a time clock and had to find these children before they fell to the demon race, for an angel lost on Earth in the mortal realm was an angel forever lost to the heavenly plain and unlike demons, who were growing their number with each soul they stole, there were a limited number of angels in heaven. So the Prophets asked for help and the Holy Roman Empire answered them.

Arise the Knight of Templar and later becoming the Knights of the Veil. These knights, though only human, pledged their lives to helping seek out these helpless angel born, to raise them, and to help them fight back the demon scourge. However, even though they are only human, they are not helpless. Knowledge of how to defeat the demons, exorcisms, weapons, all were passed down through the generations. They may be mortal but they are the best allies the Prophets could hope to have.

So the war for the Nephilim rages on and the fights over the seals of hell continue.

Which side would you be on?


Alright guys, the plot above kind of explains everything pretty much. You can pick between demon controlled (demon possessed humans), Prophets, Knights of the Veil, or Angel born. It's in modern day. So weapons like guns and stuff exists, which makes for a really fun chance to incorporate magic with guns and stuff.

A note on the demons in this world, they can't survive out of hell without a host and the control they have over the bodies varies from person to person. Some people just seem like themselves with magic or enhanced abilities while others might not be as integrated and have essentially two different beings in one body. It's really just how you want to play it. However, all the humans have willingly given up their body and soul to the demon for some reason or another. There isn't any violent hijacking going on.

Nephilim do have their own magic but again, they don't realize they do and sometimes they don't present until their teens. So typical happy kid life then suddenly, bam, powers. Your choice on how that affects their history.

So yeah, that's pretty much it. We'll hash out all the rest of the details as more interest is shown. It should be fun.

Palingenesia: A Modern Greek Gods Saga

I would love to throw my dice into this game. Artemis would be a blast to play.

MxF

Oh monster hunting could be fun! I'm up for it.

MxF

Dude, I'm always up for some swords play. How do you feel about gladiators?

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

So I'm so glad character sheets are optional cause I'm just kind of making this guy up as I go. The only thing I really know about him right now is that's he's a phoenix- thing. I don't really even have a name for him at the moment. I'm sure it'll come to me as I rp with him more. I might get some kind of drawing up for him soon too, maybe. Should be fun though!

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Peace was always meant to be broken, and broken was an understatement for the ruckus that quickly ensued just moments after the barmaid sighed. It was almost as if she wished upon a shooting star, then that shooting star took a sharp left turn and barreled head first towards her at frightening speed.

The first thing to happen was the loud crash as the glass from the window just beside the door shattered. A fiery ball of red and white flames came barreling through it at impressive speeds. Next, that fiery ball of hate slammed into the first circular table just next to the window, shattering the top and causing it's three pronged legs to go careening along the floor towards the patrons who stood there stunned at the sudden and very violent interruption. When the fiery ball came to settle on top of chunks of wood, the heat from it began to die down. Feathers were exposed as two large wings that were originally erect flopped down to the ground. A man laid in the center, groaning in pain from the harsh landing, his body covered in cuts from the glass of the window. His clothing, though some of it had been burned by the flames, was silky; baggy pants down to his ankles and a long sleeve shirt with a vest over it, though one of the sleeves of the shirt had obviously been ripped off, exposing a multitude of gloriously fluorescent, tiny feathers underneath.

The man raised his head ever so slightly to peek out of the window he had just crashed through, two long threaded feathers rises from the sides of his head like decorative tassels. "You-" He said while raising his hand to point out of the window at something that had already taken it's leave. As his head fell back to the floor with a loud thump, he finished his sentence, "better run." He groaned deeply and his hand fell to the floor, with him falling into what seemed to be unconsciousness.

(figured I'd bring some chaotic life to this thread lol. Hi @Dark Light )