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9 yrs ago
Current I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth. Then I ask myself the same question. - Harun Yahya
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Bio

Hello everyone!

I love roleplaying. That is why I am here. And you are too I suppose! So we already have that much in common! Sweet!

I will play anything with a thick enough plot. My favorites include fantasy and magic themes.

I'm not sure what else to say here.

See you in game!

Most Recent Posts

Lalala. How is everyone doing?
Sad news... Rest In Peace Alan Rickman!

JdH says he is not going to post until Sunday. So that means the rest of you have plenty of time to mess with Herbert while he is still asleep!
Um. He still has his eye ^^;;;
Sweet ^_^
Not a terrible idea.

There you go!

So. It is up to you guys if you want to RP from being in the med ward, or start the following day, or what have you.

How about, whoever posts first gets to decide! :D
"Look!" Moirah gasped and pointed. "There they are!" She saw Richard carrying the unconscious Caelum.

She was covered in dirt, she was unconscious, but she was breathing and in one piece... She even began to stir then. Everything hurt so she only looked around briefly, relieved to see familiar faces.

The students headed toward the castle, but they did not appear to be perused. The noise and lights behind them faded, Charlie came last. He was the last one fighting it seemed, his opponent eventually running away from him.

"Coward ran off." Charlie scowled, his wand was ready and he gaurded the rear of the retreat back to Hogwarts.

~~~

Once they reached the castle it did not take long to communicate that something terribly wrong had happened during this detention.

Every teacher was awakened, and assigned to either patrol the hallways and grounds or to search the woods.

Most students were already in their dorms, but, all stragglers and night owls were directed back to their dorms.

All the detained students were whisked to the medical ward to be attended to be white smocked witches and wizards. They were made to stay in the ward overnight and were not admitted back to their houses and regular rooms.

Caelum took the opposite strategy. She did not sleep, but lay with her eyes closed, trying to rest, trying to block everything out of her mind... Moirah was making that particularly difficult...

Moirah, who was unhurt, was quite fidgety. She couldn't stick to her bed, she paced around the small room of the medical wing they had all be boarded up in. She tapped her feet, muttered every so often, and was generally annoying to anyone trying to mellow out after their harrowing experience.
OK I DID THE TIME SKIP!

I went ahead and described the setting. You can start RPing from wherever you like. Waking up, exploring, tuning into one another again. Up to you!

It is one hall, each of you have your own little room, the doors are unlocked and you have free access to the other rooms and the meeting room but no rooms or hallways beyond these. There don't appear to be any doors leading out (at first glance).

You do not have any of your equipment or weapons.

You don't have your cloths, you have... pajamas. Flannel. Cozy stuff.

Does the place make sense? Any questions?
The winged girl did not heed the warning, and watched the action. Not only was she unshaped, but she smiled as if amused during the more gruesome parts.

Zesiro, on the other hand, frowned. He held out his hand to accept the gift. "Yeah... I have no idea what you just said..." He held part of his radio in one hand and the silvery ball in the other hand, perplexed as to what was expected of him. "Why don't you show me?" Zesiro didn't actually have any faith in this device.

Yet, with some time, the two technicians were able to find TRIDENT frequencies. The skeptical Zesiro was plesantly surprised to be in touch with HQ and have a rescue mission on the way...

~~~~

Twain. "My services are needed. Almighty then." Twain continued down the stairs past Herbert. It wasn't long before he beheld Rozalind in her wretched state.

"Good afternoon." Twain knelt beside the woman inspecting her burns and wounds. He kept a smile plastered on his face.

"Tell me how it is Twain. Don't sugar coat it. If it's bad, don't you dare try using that disgusting magic on me. I'd rather die than be... be..." Rozalind tried to growl and scowl, but didn't have the strength.

"Oh shush you. I'm good for more than just necromancy! I'm a doctor! I have a degree and everything."

"Who would give you a medical license?"

"That is classified." Twain touched Rozalinds shoulder, she twitched but did not put up much of a fight against the pain. She closed her eyes. "Just go to sleeeeeep for awhile. I'll see you in the morning, sweetie." Rozalind did not stir, seeming to obey the command to sleep.

He began to pull a few things from his pockets, some were recognizable as first aid supplies... Tape, bandages, alcohol, scissors... Some things were a bit odd for a doctor to have on his person, for example there were a few unlabeled jars of odd colored goo, there was a small bit of white chalk, a harmonica, smokey quarts, and a pincushion full of pins was also produced from the pockets. Most was left on the ground beside the girl. He rested the smoky quarts on her forehead, then Twain used the goo-jars and the bandages first, slathering the burns and pressing the gauze upon the wounds. Rozalind began to resemble a mummy, and smell like one, the goo from the glass jars was pungent.

"Hey you... guy..." Twain called out to Herbert. "Lend me a hand?" He tossed Herbert the pincushion. It was shaped like a tomato. "Hold this for me juuuuust in case."

"And ah... The number guy... XIII? Can you get me a light? It sure is dark down here..."

At one point during the wrapping, Twain frowned. The woman's breath and heartbeat were beginning to slow... "Nooot so fast you." He beckoned for the nail in Herbert's hand. He took the metal point and pressed it into her palm. She didn't stir, only bled a few red drops of blood. He began to hum and mutter quietly. The rest was... difficult to remember...

The sound of approaching helicopters announced the end of their internment in the Russian mountains.

They were all scooped up, the wounded taken on stretchers, the healthy escorted into cockpits and passenger seats. Eventually everyone would find themselves fatigued... sleepy... and then asleep.

They would each wake up in a small room on a hospital cot. Their wounds bandaged and their bodies cleaned. They would find that they all had their own room but were all housed in the same hallway.

At the end of the hallway, there was what looked like a meeting room in a fancy office. It was a wide dark room with a glass table. The base of the table doubled as a glowing blue fish tank. There were also several fish circular tanks set into the walls to make it seem as if they were in fact portholes and the room was underwater. It was a clean, tasteful, and expensive looking design.

Where were they now?
There he is! He deserves a medal!

I'm working on post things today <3
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