BurningCold

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

^{Location: Imperial City Prisons}

---

Veeza recalled long hours in the bloodworks as a child, listening to wounded soldiers entertain him with tales of steel and blood as he tended their wounds. Glorious combats of the arena, the derring-do of treasure hunters and adventurers, all of it paled in comparison to those most legendary of warriors: the Blades. Now they were here before his very eyes, escorting none other than the Emperor himself as some kind of conspiracy moved against him. Veeza was not old, though he was getting older, and he still found himself momentarily enraptured at the thrill of it all.

Starstruck.

Collapsing into his cot at the end of another brutal day of his uncle’s training, thoughts of fighting alongside the Arms of the Throne would fill his head as he drifted into the realm of dreams.

Now they were here. More importantly, Veeza reckoned as his thoughts sobered, they were providing a way out. Whatever chaos was going on in the city above, he wanted no part of it. He had a home waiting for him in Kvatch. Following down the tunnel was an easy choice.

In response to the warnings and commands given by the Blades, a low spoken, “Understood.” was all that was required. They were not here to converse with him, ominous statements supplied by the Emperor notwithstanding.

He dreamed of one of the boozers, brawlers and beggars in this cell? Was it addled ramblings onset by stress and age, or a sign of genuine providence? Veeza supposed anything was possible.

The thought of having a destiny entangled with that of Uriel Septim made his tail twitch. Amidst the chaos of the moment, he was unable to place if the nerves he felt were brought by excitement or apprehension.

In short order, the prisoners in the cell were making their choice: up or down.

He was close to the rear of the pack as they made their way down into the bowels of forgotten passages, the putrid stench of booze and sweat giving way to dust, and damp, and the taste of something bitter in the stale air. By Veeza’s reckoning, it was an improvement. Spaces that had been quiet for decades, if not centuries, were filled with the sounds of labored breathing and boots scraping on stone as they made their way into the gloom; on the other side of that? Talos, Azura, or anyone else that was feeling helpful willing: freedom.

Veeza reckoned that even Oblivion itself wouldn’t be able to get in his way.

Pokétopian Dreams: Uncharted Waters

I'm still interested for sure. It's been a while since I dropped a post so I should probably start working on one.

@Ryik This is the kind of thing I like collabs for, if I'm unsure how to add meat to a post. Makes having a conversation with another character a lot smoother and lets both writers flesh out character details.

The Pyres Never Stop Burning (Old-School Occult Horror/Mystery)

Looking forward to my tarot reading! I know I DM'd you my concept, @Olive Fontaine, but should I fill out as much of the sheet as possible pre-reading or wait for the cards?

Tamashī no Samuraitachi

In Which Ren Does His Mom's Job Without Asking

^{Location: The Hideout Interaction(s): Everyone}

---

What a brilliant start to a brilliant day. Whatever Tsuki wanted to bitch about it, they got half of the information they were seeking, which was significantly more than the jack shit they had before even going on the job. Doubly worth noting was that they slaughtered a bunch of human trash that literally trafficked innocent people for gods knows why. It’s true, he started the fight because someone was trying to cap his mom, but it didn’t really matter; he would have burnt all those people to a crisp regardless. They were truly despicable creatures, and they all got what they deserved.

The thought made him snort. He barely felt human sometimes, and here he was sticking up for the people of the city while they all kept dragging each other down like crabs in a bucket. He didn’t understand it. It seemed to him that the simple fact was, there were rotten people in the world. That rot needed to be cut away and cleansed in fire.

People could say what they wanted about Ren, but Tsuki didn’t fail to instill a strong sense of justice in him, even if that same sense often teetered the line towards revenge.

The gang all arrived quite quickly, which was nice. He didn’t really care what got them moving aside from the fact that they got a move on at all; he hated waiting around.

Thunder Thighs, Metal Boy, the Yeti, and Corpse Girl all found their way into the hideout.

Mumeiki remained silent and still at the back of the room in his usual habit, and Ren threw a wave and a half smirk his way in greeting. It was basically just a little kid in there, so he wanted to be nice. A serpentine tingle in the back of his mind told him that Shoshiku was lingering in a door frame like a creep. Classic Corpse Girl. Meanwhile Frost stomped up to Mich and immediately struck up a conversation.

A very annoying conversation that Mich certainly knew he could hear. Boy Wonder? Just as he prepared a scathing remark to toss her way, Akane drew closer to him. Her own entrance was impossible to miss, the rumbling of the building, the distant crackling, and the faint scent of ozone wafting through the air all rather obnoxiously heralding the arrival of the only person his mom knew that was more reliably capable of causing headaches than him.

Akane was… a strange individual, and someone that inadvertently reminded Ren why it was so important that he try to exercise self control. He didn’t really know entirely how destructive his capabilities could be, and Akane often displayed exactly why that wasn’t such a bad thing. She understood restraint, patience, and mercy even less than he did. She was like a mirror that magnified all his own flaws, in some ways. Tsuki saddling Ren with the responsibility of looking after her was probably one of her smarter plays.

Stopping her from going too far or endangering Tsuki’s plans with her warlike nature was something that Ren took extremely seriously.

"What happened? She is angrier than when I left. Angry... with you?"

A rough sigh escaped his lips. “Yes. A mission went sideways. She blames me.” He answered her in the secret language that he was taught by the Little Orochi, the one he remained perfectly fluent in no matter how long he went without using it. It was a mixture of hisses and strange, almost musical notes that occasionally dropped into harsh, stone on stone-like texturing as his forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth. “She’s wrong, of course. But it’s between me and her.” He favored simple and direct communication with Akane; she seemed to receive it best that way.

Eventually Shoshiku made herself (itself? Ren didn’t have a damn clue) known to the group at large, giving a small greeting before slumping into the couch. He really didn’t know what to make of that one. Not in the slightest.

Ren listened with appreciation as Frost made her observations and asked her questions. When she first joined up with Tsuki, Ren couldn’t decide whether he was jealous of her or terrified, so for the longest time he settled for both. It was a comfortable, immature hatred that gave way to grudging respect and eventually trust and admiration as she continually proved herself to be someone that would do right by Tsuki. Jaegers made Ren twitchy, but he’d learned a while ago that she certainly wasn’t one anymore.

Being barred from joining their ranks persisted as an awkward wound in his relationship with Tsuki, but paradoxically, he only appreciated Frost all the more for her choice to reject them to side with his mom. Feelings were confusing.

"How are we splitting?"

Before Mich or even Tsuki herself could respond, Ren began to speak. “Well, it’s obvious to me that a combat ring is exactly where you belong, my oversized friend. And, hm,” He paused, eyeing Tsuki gleefully as he pretended to ponder what they both knew was coming next. “Since you and Tsuki work so well together, that makes you two a pair. Shoshiku will accompany the both of you as well, to round things out.” A smug little smirk crept onto his face, one that challenged Tsuki to contradict him as he peered her way. The reasoning was entirely sound, and it left the other team as completely well rounded as well. Of course, he had ulterior motives.

Frost was perfectly capable of leading a team of her own, and had done so in the past, but Ren wanted space from the fantastic teleporting helicopter mom before she drove him completely insane. Let her sweat thinking about his side of things. He’d prove that he knew what the hell he was doing. “Which means,” He continued. “Akane, Mumeiki, and myself will be taking care of Site B. Mich can stay here and provide external support to both teams. Her organic components haven’t actually been in contact with fresh air in years, she’d probably wither away and die on the spot.” He punctuated his teasing of Mich by flicking his forked tongue at her. “We wouldn’t want that.”

He clapped his hands together. “Okay! To summarize for you chuckles: Tsuki, Frost and Shoshiku will take on Site A, while myself, Akane and Mumeiki will deal with Site B.”

The Little Orochi blinked slowly in Tsuki’s direction and hissed. Ren knew his brother snake was pleased with him. At least somebody was.

Primality

This is a check-in post.

The roleplay is still active and alive, of course. But we've had some clear drops/ghosts and some people whose status is ambiguous in regards to this roleplay. So, if you're still here, please reply to this message below. I want to see if I need/want to bring more people into the fold to make up the numbers since I'll be working the inactives into NPCs if they don't show up and I don't want the roleplay to stall for posts if a chunk of the cast becomes NPCs.

@Carlyle

Am here!

Hell on Earth: Supernatural & Demonic Detectives

She Thinks, Therefore She Yam

^{Location: Saniwa Family Estate Interaction(s): @Mcmolly}

---

Observations were made, deductions were deduced, investigations were investigated, and Barbatos was Barbatos. Picking up what he was putting down, eh? Hell that sweeter-than-shit tone he spouted off in drove Marty up a wall sometimes! Was this punk making fun of him? Of course the joke - he thanked Lorelei for the drink in a curt and manly tone befitting of the hardcore beverage he had requested - was funny! He was the one that told it! Greg down at the improv club said he was an incredibly fast learner with impressive wit. Obviously anyone that failed to find his jokes humorous just needed him to explain the punchline, right? He narrowed his compound eyes briefly at Dezzie - hey what the fuck Al that eye is incredibly fucking creepy god damn - and committed to explaining why his various remarks were amusing and actually not at all disrespectful at a later date.

She was new to Section 7 work, real work, after all. You know, not that the other sections didn’t do anything, but still. Fostering a healthy sense of rivalry and hostility between himself and those working in other sections would only push him to work that much harder. Something like that anyways, he was a fly not a psychologist.

The balm to the egoism that armored his insecure core at the slightest amount of pushback came in the form of Armand’s “gushing praise” of Marty’s work.

It could be assumed that it’s connected. Ha. He was practically handing him the keys to the castle! Marty’s private jubilations ceased as Armand continued his statement, the barely animated half-corpse of a man (in Marty’s astute opinion) growing slightly stiffer in his mannerisms, if that was even possible. He knew more than he was saying, and he wasn’t following proper procedure at all. It was strange. Unlike him. Marty’s eyes were seemingly still blankly trained on Dezzie, but a majority of his concentration went to analyzing the minute details of Armand’s body language and facial movements.

He mentally filed his observations away for later.

Eventually, people began to pair up and head out in a flurry, until Marty was left alone in the room with Armand and Yam. He let out a small cough and took a sip of his coffee. Sudden changes in the environment always left him feeling a little awkward. Especially because when he was in a large group, a gnawing feeling at the back of his mind said he’d feel more comfortable in a setting with less people. Then, well, settings with less people happened sometimes and he usually found himself wishing for the crowd.

Yam wasn’t his first choice for a partner, to be honest. Or second. Or third. Decidedly though, she wasn’t last. That honor was reserved for his grand highness, the royal pain in Marty’s ass himself, Barbatos.

To be blunt: Yam creeped him out. He didn’t like the thought of being alone with someone that was never actually truly alone with themselves. What the fuck though, right? What was he gonna do, be an asshole about it? He didn’t know her story, but nobody with a happy life chain smoked like she did. She’d be good for roughing people up too, which is exactly what the two of them seemed to have been saddled with.

In the most authoritative tone he could muster (his voice only warbled nervously once in the middle and a little at the end, but maybe nobody noticed), Marty said, “Alright Yam, looks like you’re with me on this one. Time to kick answers and get some ass!” What the fuck it’s fine just keep talking before anyone has time to react they’ll forget about it soon anyways remember Marty the issue is always bigger in your own mind that’s what Dr. Christophsen says and she’s a professional so just fucking say something-

“You can count on us, uh, chief.” He cleared his throat, his wings twitching nervously. “We got this.” Looking to Yam, he continued speaking as he began to walk from the room, slightly too quickly. “Let’s travel together so we can discuss the case. Do uh, do you wanna drive? I’m- I’m good either way.”

The Pyres Never Stop Burning (Old-School Occult Horror/Mystery)

Is this RP still looking for players or have you found your group? On top of the media you compare it to, this has very strong Call of Cthulhu vibes to me (even if its not Mythos related at all) and it seems very fun!

The Elder Scrolls: In the Shadows of Oblivion

^{Location: Imperial City Prisons Interaction(s):@Alfhedil@Kazemitsu}

---

Looking down at the hand extended before him, Veeza grasped it by way of greeting, eclipsing the young woman’s hand within his own. As Khaliya pointed out her brother, Veeza gave him a slow nod in acknowledgement. Then, he took a moment to size up the other Argonian, Kharne. He was certainly impressive. With both of them seated, Veeza couldn’t even tell which was the larger of the two of them. Addressing both the Redguard and the Argonian in unison, he said, “My name is Veeza. I am a gladiator of Kvatch. Though sometimes, like today, I also do combat in the capital. Usually that's limited to just inside the arena.” His voice was stone scraping against stone, less of a rasp at the edges of his words than a low grating that gave each syllable an earthy, sturdy quality. Flicking his eyes to focus on Kharne in particular, he hazarded, “Well met, beeko.” His grasp of Jel was passable, but he had few speaking partners in Kvatch to hone his usage of it.

Kharne could be from anywhere; have any outlook. Still, there was nothing wrong with seeking a little solidarity. Argonians weren’t always looked kindly upon.

“These are poor circumstances to meet under,” He continued, once more speaking to the both of them. “Sharing a round together would have been better.”

He stiffened suddenly as the woman- no, as the madwoman began her sudden outburst. Did he hear her say her name was Deia? He wasn’t sure. His tail stopped its agitated flicking, instead coming to be poised perfectly still as his fingers clenched into fists. It was likely she was just addled, not necessarily dangerous. Even so. He wouldn’t tolerate any further violence in his presence tonight.

His pale, yellow eyes focused on her warily while he addressed Khaliya and Kharne in a low voice, “This cell is full of colorful characters, it seems.”

That was when the flamboyant man began to speak. He… did make sense, even if the language was particularly grandiloquent for Veeza’s tastes. He seemed smarter than he acted at any rate. Whether the charlatan’s persona he exuded was done so with intent or not was another matter entirely.

He nodded in self-confirmation, echoing himself, “Colorful indeed.”

The man’s words did get him thinking though. How long would the guards see fit to keep him in here? Ildrani was going to be worried about him if his arena earnings weren’t enough to pay off whatever fine they saddled him with. He would pay it happily too, to get out of here. The smell of alcohol never bothered Veeza, but it reeked here.

It smelled like his father. That scent: the sickly smell of sweat and alcohol, fermented into a foul odor that brought with it nothing but unpleasant memories. Was he even still alive? Veeza wasn't confident. It didn't matter either way. He was wise enough to know that such a reunion would bring nothing of value with it. Now he had a home. A career. Someone that he loved. And, for all that Mush-La was a mean old bastard, thanks to him he had the tools he needed to keep all three.

Gradually his tense muscles relaxed.

Trusting- or perhaps hoping that the wild woman, Deia, would look upon the flamboyant man’s words with as much agreeance as he himself did, he resolved to continue the conversation with Khaliya and Kharne. Still, he flicked an eye back in their direction often enough.

“So- what exactly brings the both of you to the city?”

Primality

Smoke on the Wind

P A I G E & M A R K O

^{Location: Merryweather Institute Grounds}

---

One moment Paige was standing there with a quirked eyebrow, entertaining herself by pushing the buttons of this stranger and the next she had her arms hovering, out reached as she worriedly hesitated on some way to help the choking man.

Oh god, don't die on me!

When he finally looked back up at her, seemingly done with dying, Paige relaxed slightly standing back up straight. That was until he mentioned how 'purple' she was. Staring down at him for a second that seemed to stand still for much too long, she suddenly burst out into loud rambunctious laughter.

Marko stared back blankly, eyes shifting between her and his outstretched hand. Was it something he said?

"Um..." He coughed. Is she laughing at me?

Laughter petering off, Paige honestly couldn't remember the last time she had laughed that hard. It was about then she heard the awkward hesitation and saw the outstretched hand.

Chuckling dryly, she stretched out her hand to his, "Paige."

However, instead of shaking his hand, she attempted to pull him up to her level. It was only then she let go of his hand, a mischievous twinkle gaining in her eye as she commented, "Though it seems like you can just call me 'Purple'." She chuckled to herself once again. Oh, she was definitely making fun of him.

"I... If that's what you want," He mumbled his response, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyways." He shrugged his shoulders back, trying to straighten his features and gain back some feeling of control in the situation. Initial embarrassment aside, so far the interaction wasn't a complete failure. Maybe this Paige was a little snarky, but that was fine. He could deal with snarky. "So," Marko began, feeling the words out carefully. "We should probably head to the assembly. Before we end up being late." He spoke in a stiltedly matter of fact tone, his words still laced throughout with fatigue and general malaise. His expression, now recovered from his initial embarrassment, was similarly dry.

Looking down at the significantly smaller girl before him, he beckoned in the direction the other straggling students were heading. "We can walk together..." He said slowly, almost carefully. "If you'd like?"

Groaning, she rolled her eyes at his suggestion of them actually doing what they were supposed to be doing. She had truly hoped she could have found some kind of excuse to miss out on the whole thing.

"I guess I have nothing better to do," She said resigning herself to the fact that she did in fact have to go to this stupid ceremony opening. Not waiting for Marko, she started to walk forward before calling back, "Come on, Crispy."

At that remark, a mix of emotions washed across Marko's face. Primarily surprise, indignation, and then something resembling relief? The same dry, unimpressed expression won out in the end, however. "I..." He sighed, willing his broad-shouldered body forward. "Okay." He took a few large strides to hurry next to her before slowing his pace.

She looked up at him with a playful smirk and asked, "What? Not a fan of the nickname?"

Marko glanced sidelong at her, the corner of his mouth tugging into an indeterminate shape. "It's... better than you thinking it without saying it at all. I think." His sturdy shoulders shrugged. "I'd rather be teased than stared at. It's not like I'm clueless. It's literally all over my face, after all." He spoke in a wry, slightly bitter tone, the corner of his good eye creasing as an almost-smile rose and fell across his face. "I don't suppose you're also an accidental pyromaniac?"

"It's just payback for the purple comment, don't take it all too seriously," She said waving it off like it was all just a silly joke. She had really not put much thought in her comments, if anything her giving someone a nickname was a sign that she got along with them. If they could withstand her snarky comments and terribly chosen nicknames was a whole different question though.

Seeing his half smile made her instantly thinking she was in the good though and smiled brightly back before replying, "No, not me. I'm just an accidental mall destroyer."

The way she playfully made the remark made it hard to tell if she was telling the truth or just poking fun at Marko once again.

Despite himself, he let out a light chuckle. "The whole mall?" He queried, eyebrow raised in mild amusement.

Paige had really put her foot in her mouth, she had no plans to ever tell anyone about Riverside mall and yet here she was making fun of it.

"No, just the food court," She said in an embarrassed huff, before quickly trying to get him off her scent by rolling her eyes and adding, "What do you think?"

"I think," Marko said, in his careful way. "That I should stay on your good side. Especially in the cafeteria." He smiled at Paige, halfway between warm and teasing. This wasn't going too badly at all. Sure. It's just one interaction. Sure. He had, in theory, limitless chances to do something stupid. Sure. But, hey, whatever. At least nobody here knew his reputation back home. It was a fresh start. He didn't have to be the reclusive, delinquent tagalong anymore.

"Smart man," She said with a playful smirk decorating her face. Her bright purple eyes flicked back to him for a moment as if she was for the first time actually assessing the person in front of her before she asked, "So why are you in such a rush for this stupid ceremony anyway?"

Briefly, he bit in the inside of his cheek in thought. "I wouldn't say I'm in a hurry. I just don't want to miss it. On the other side of things, why do you seem so loathe to attend?" She seemed like she had a chip on her should about being at this school. He was sure that was the reason. Still, it was better to ask.

"Once you've done one school assembly, you've done them all." She said dismissively before adding, "All they're probably going to do is go on about how good people they are to imprison us in this supposed school and then if we're really lucky some asshole will come down the lines and pick on our outfits."

With that last comment, she picked at the fancy lapel of Marko's large and decidedly not school approved jacket as to make her point.

He tugged his jacket tighter around himself in response, simply mumbling, "It's cold." He paused before suggesting, "It is good that a place for people like us exists though, right?"

"I mean I haven't been executed yet if that is what you mean," She said dryly. Then as she saw they were about at the Wolkwitz Auditorium, she added, "Guess you'll have to tell me."

Marko surveyed the other students pouring into the auditorium with a frown, the corners of his mouth deepening into their expression the longer he quietly studied the people around him. At last, in a low, thoughtful voice, he said, "Yes, Paige. If every single one of them is half as dangerous as you or me, us being here is a good thing. I'm lucky that what happened to me-" He cut himself off, swallowing. "Well, I'm just lucky that it happened to me." He could have burnt his house down, and turned his grandparents to cinders along with it. What if he lost his cool in a fistfight and blew the other kid's head off? This is definitely where he belonged. Most likely where they all belonged.

He looked down at Paige with a morose bearing. "You can sit with me if you like. But I think it's important to attend this assembly, whether someone gets on my case about my coat or not."

Paige let out a large sigh, as much as she hated to admit it he might have actually had a point. After all, it had been lucky no one had actually died during the hurricane that took down the most popular place in town.

That didn't stop the large hmph that came from her as she sat down in one of the back seats though. Nor did it change the fact that she stretched out her legs and rested them in the nook between the seats in front of her as she snarkily said, "Well I'm not so sure about 'dangerous'. I heard some unlucky fuckers just have the ability to ruin meals."

As the pair descended into general chatter, waiting for the assembly to begin, Marko pondered that it wasn't such a bad start here, all in all. Paige was definitely... very different from him, which was likely a good thing. He imagined that he would struggle to hold a conversation with himself at the best of times.

It's only a first impression, but it's a start. Hopefully things go as smoothly with everyone else I meet, too.

A breeze whisked through the auditorium, and Marko pulled his coat around himself tighter still.

Calling All Heroes and Villains!

I really hate to do this, but I have to pull out from the RP. It sucks but I feel like with a player cast this large, people are on wildly different wavelengths and it makes me unsure how I'd be able to easily slot my character into future scenarios.

I had a lot of fun and a lot of the players are very cool, so if anything like this gets attempted with a smaller cast let me know and I'll be there.

Thanks for having me though.