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    1. GamerScribe 10 yrs ago

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The head Caretaker watched the group with the detached interest of a teacher nearing retirement; obviously hopeful for them, but quite aware that their wellbeing wouldn't be her undertaking for long. She had been the first, chosen by Arven himself to help the new and usually confused or scared Wild Gods come to terms with what they were. At first she hadn't understood why she'd been chosen, hadn't understood much of anything, but it became apparent quickly why she was necessary... After all, despite his features, Arven wasn't human. He was the god of humanity, knew the thoughts and needs and issues of each individual in the world... But while he comprehended it all, he couldn't always empathize with them, couldn't always say what needed to be said, or do what needed to be done.

That was where she came in. She, and all those who had followed as the years passed after the End. To be a link to normality, to humanity. To make sure that the so called Wild Gods remembered that they were men and women; to keep them humble, hale, and hearty. To keep their spirits high in times of trial and their homes cared for while they were away. To make sure they worked.

As she passed along the outer edge of the crowd she eyed a well-dressed man in a suit glancing about the group. To him she stepped up with a slight bow of the head, saying simply; "Your kerchief is a bit crooked, dear." Before moving on.

Next to him stood a woman of dark complexion and smoky green eyes; about a moment away from her heel breaking and her drink spilling all over the suit-clad man. Silently the Caretaker moved between them, catching the woman as she began to fall backwards and offering to take her broken shoes and have them replaced. Thanks were exchanged and another caretaker sent to find a pair.

As one of her own glanced at her with a look of confusion at the overwhelming pace of his charges speech she angled over, letting the Wild God in charge of engineering take note that she was sending him away before offering a simple smile and said by way of apology; "We Caretakers have other matters to attend to, I'm afraid. Why don't you chat with the others here for the meeting?"

She passed a conversation most enthusiastic; a boy speaking of his newfound ability to speak to his pet bird, and a woman encouraging him to see what he could get it to do. A small smile struck her then; not just her lips, but her eyes, and her heart. It was always good to know that at least some of the crop was on the right track.

Continuing to flit around the outer edge of the crowd she took note of a disheveled young still bound in a blanket. It wouldn't be readily apparent to most, but the way she anxiously wrapped it about her tighter alerted the eldest Caretaker that the young woman had mislaid some personal goods... namely part of her clothing. Raising two fingers up she was suddenly surrounded by her former caretakers, and in low tones she bid them fetch a proper set of clothes for the girl. They came back bearing a black t-shirt and navy jeans, a flower-print dress, and a hoodie and cargo-pants respectively; each having chosen according to a different taste for variety's sake. Hefting the bundle under one arm she walked over to the miserable looking girl and gently laid the clothing next to her. "There's a few sets of clothes for you, dear." She offered sweetly, turning around to see the man who had brought the flowery dress speed-walking towards her with a shade under his arm. Together they propped it up, and she hurriedly shooed him away. "Go ahead and change behind the shade, I'll make sure no one peeks." She said with a wide and kindly grin. She seemed fine, as of yet, unburdened by Jennifer's power.

"Arven will be out in three more minutes, ladies and gentlemen." One of the other caretakers said, looking to her for approval. She offered him a nod in reply and continued to stand guard over the underdressed girl.
"Hasn't been what?" Asked a young girl with a somewhat squeaky voice, her big blue eyes looking up at Marcus. She seemed younger than him, but her gaze was much more confident, as though being a goddess and meeting the First Minister was no big deal.

--

Kendall's mind raced as the Caretakers bid them to mingle, completely uncertain who to talk to, or what to say.

There looked to be perhaps 20 of them in all, most were quiet, withdrawn. By the eastern wall a tall high-cheekboned woman stood talking to a short Latino boy; there was a small bird on the boy's shoulder and as they spoke he motioned his hands and had it perform tricks for her applause. In the foremost part of the crowd a muscular man with short red hair, ruddy cheeks, and a t-shirt bearing the words 'God of Stuff', which he had made by asking his caretaker to get him some fabric paint once he realized a little of what he could do. A woman in a tracksuit was leaning against the west wall, her tapping foot a blur of motion. A man in his sixties lay on the ground in the middle of the crowd, casually grabbing up at people and idly flicking through their wallets, but not a single person saw him except for the head Caretaker who resolved to deal with him once the young woman lacking clothes was dealt with.

His uncertainty was brought to an end by a sudden touch on the shoulder that he did his best not to jump and shriek in response to. Of course... holding back his startled scream he managed to... "Hic!" Give himself the hiccups. "N..Hnc! No problem. I'm sure you didn't mea HnGG! -n to." He nodded his head and held out a hand to shake... his injured hand, only to pull it back and present the other one instead in a rather awkward and ungainly gesture.

"I'm Kendall." He offered with a wide grin that he hoped came across as kind, but was a bit screwed up when another hiccup caught him off guard and made his body give a twitch. "Pretty hk! crazy stuff, right?"
In the room just outside the god of Humanity prepared himself. He could feel the new Wild Gods just one room over, the mixed emotions flaring. Some were proud, or thrilled. Others he found terrified or confused. One young woman was such a jumble of thoughts and emotions that he feared his protection of the head Caretaker wouldn't hold at first. These were the new generation of champions. There were the preservation of mankind; and it was his job to make sure they accepted, and succeeded.

"One more year." He whispered to himself, the way he had every year since the End. Every day since the End. Just one more year and he or they would figure out how to put an end to the seemingly endless war of attrition. To seal away or get rid of the demons. Eventually they had to... The 'Powers that had been' as he called them had a plan for the eventual end to the fighting. They had a way to fight back... But it had been lost when they had, sacrificing themselves for a handful of mankind. Instead of working with them to put an end to the fighting he had been left alone to LEAD it; a task he felt that no being was truly up to, especially himself.

Still; he did his damnedest. He'd kept them alive for thirteen years through his leadership, his abilities, and when it had come down to it his teeth and nails. Reaching out with his power then he quested through the crowd, refreshing himself on their Domains. The little thing at the heart of each of their abilities. Some of this years crop were especially intriguing, others a bit disheartening; he only hoped that they would all do what needed to be done.
I dunno, perhaps the fact his name literally means wolf is a minor hint.
If this is still open I'd like to be considered for the sixth spot...

ShadowCatcher said wana fite m8?


I'd love to. ^^ Combat is my favored part of roleplay.

Had a battle thread way back when where all I did was random fights with people.
37 wins, 15 draws, 8 losses.
That makes no sense... during a proper coronation it's the new royal who is usually sitting, or kneeling as the former royal or a high-ranking member of the church crowns them. Kneeling and crowning is counter-intuitive... and it would look silly.
An explosion on an airship is a jarring situation to find yourself facing, and when your entire personality revolves about interjecting yourself into whatever's happening at the cost of other people's approval it's fairly good odds you'd wind up investigating it if you just so happened to be on said airship when the explosion happened. Truth be told he wanted to... He felt the urge to leave the young woman there and cross the ship to seek out an explanation, the thought buzzed through his mind like a cadre of angry hornets, stinging at his synapses to try and propel him into movement. Truth be told Vask didn't know why he stayed with her, but he did...

As the ship went into mild uproar, and then belabored calm following the sudden shaking Vask stayed there with his hand on the faunus' shoulder. Reassurance wasn't exactly his forte, an as such he didn't bother with words. His presence, he decided, was what little he had to offer, and he would do so. It was a long and tedius few minutes in which he rethought his decision several times over. His mind wandered; one moment he envisioned bursting into the bar just as a second explosive went off, the next he daydreamed that he managed to get in in time and everyone turned to him to defuse the bomb, so an and so forth ad infinitum his drifting thoughts went.

Eventually the p.a. system blared a droning landing message and he loosed a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, kneeling down besides his panicky charge. "There." He said simply, his smile wide. "Crisis averted, ship landing; all is well." He paused, mulling over what he'd been saying. "Well, for us at least someone could have been mangled in the initial explosion I guess, but generally I'd think there would be more screaming if that was the case... unless of course shrapnel knocked the surrounding individuals unonscious or severed their vocal cords so that they couldn't make a sound" He frowned lightly and shook his head them. "Pretty sure it would be unlikely for that to happen to as many people as I've seen go in there since I boarded, though."

Gently he squeezed her shoulder then, an action he hoped came across as reassuring. With that he finally rose and walked away, back towards his seat. As they set down he wobbled a bit with the landing but otherwise managed to grab his belongings with little to no issue. An over the shoulder travel bag and a large metal case were grasped tightly in the fingers of his left hand, and with his right he gestured to the salamander girl; "Come on then, some solid ground ought to do you some good." He said it simply, sincerely, and in doing so wandered towards the exit without sparing a glance back.
I'm willing to wait a bit.
Excellent. Looking forward to it, Dalyuk.

Act; in regards to your post... If you want to build a mech, go for it if you've got the parts. That fits within your domain. But taking common metals and easily making them better than Diamond(Especially as a casual offhand mention in your FIRST post where your abilities are supposed to be new to you) isn't so much engineering as it is Alchemy, and even then that would be pushing it.
Minor update to my CS; added an appearance for Vask.
All good, Journeyman; at present only BB and I have posted anyway, so as of this moment there's no rush.
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