1. Home
  2. Hound55

Hound55 Member

Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!

STATUS: A Perpetual Motion Engine of Anxiety and Self-Loathing 2 yrs ago
Avatar of Hound55

Status

Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current A Perpetual Motion Engine of Anxiety and Self-Loathing

Bio

So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.

Most Recent Posts

In Ju-V → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


Accepted Characters




Haven 'Swift' Barnes

- @Skai (HEX Text code D2B48C)



Wes 'Valiant' Cassidy

- @Retired (HEX Text code 483D8B)



Sunita 'Fold' Chauhan

- @Tackytaff (HEX Text code C1FF57)



Zachary 'Phantom' Clark

- @webboysurf (HEX Text code fdc68a)



Natsumi 'Chameleon' Collingwood

- @Kuro (HEX Text code 50C878)



Noah 'Bombshell' Cypress

- @Venus (HEX Text code FF6347)



Zelda 'Zero' DiAngelo

- @Lawful Newtral (HEX Text code AACCDD)



David 'Ward' Fermi

- @Hound55 (HEX Text code 708090)



Frederick 'Vorpal' Jackson

- @Roman (HEX Text code 6A5ACD)



Rex 'Brick' Kingsley

- @psych0pomp (HEX Text code 76424e)

Alexandra 'Upyr' Nikolaeva Kuropatkova

- @Zoldyck (HEX Text code CC0000)



Seobin 'Seo' Langston

- @Wei Wuxian (HEX Text code DE3163)



Kaitlin 'Photon' Langstraat

- @mickilennial (HEX Text code FDDA0D)



Adam 'Crazy Slots' Locklear

- @DocTachyon (HEX Text code ed8545]



Sophia 'Sunny' Montgomery

- @Qia (HEX Text code 87CEEB]



Sora 'Spitfire' Moore

- @earthtogab (HEX Text code orange]



Brooklyn 'Black Betty' Vanderhaven

- @PatientBean (HEX Text code 8F2A2A)



Skylar 'Wave Rider' Vass

- [@Eyeshine] (HEX Text code 7fffd4)



Holt 'Subject XJ-9-472' Waters

- @Lord Wraith (HEX Text code 2A7EB0)



Lina 'Vampyre' Ziegler

- @Pirouette (HEX Text code Crimson)


Noteworthy NPCs



















Virgil Rowell's Shitlist - (Former Characters)
In Ju-V → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


We live in a volatile world.

Recently, the exact date is open to debate, we have passed the Claremont Threshold.

The point where all government projections, every simulation suggests that all out war between humanity and metahumans - the powered people amongst us - could ONLY end in human annihilation.

As a result, all Government policy must shift. With the focus going from repression and keeping down the metahumans, to that of de-escalation, and appeasement, lest they rise up and seek war and retribution over an unfair system.

But what of the humans? The humans who still hold simmering tension with the metahumans, stoked by years of back-biting politics, the humans who still FAR outnumber metahumans at the ballot box? Policy positions from a flip-flopping Government can be swift. Shifting an entire society away from harmful negative sentiment? Not so much.

So the language of Government remains a buffer. Letting more strident sentiments still hold their belief that the government is cracking down on 'the Metahuman problem' whilst the policies themselves shift to be less harmful to these once systemically opressed people.



Welcome to the Junior Vigilante Programme at the Aegis Centre for Metahuman Rehabilitation, your foundation for societal reintegration and moral education. In a world where your very existence creates a conflicted and turbulent cultural debate, we at Aegis wish to offer you peaceful respite, and the opportunity to understand your place in the world and the wider impact your very nature has on society.

We understand that the public reaction to the emergence of Metahumans has created civil unrest on all sides of the issue; Aegis stands in defense of you, and wants to provide a safe place to learn, practice, and discuss the moral implications of what your abilities can do for Mankind.

Whether you have joined us voluntarily or been invited, we welcome you through our gates, and hope your residence here proves fruitful for you and our ongoing exploration into what it means to be Metahuman.

At Aegis, we want to show the world a better way - a modern way - a brighter way - and forge a new path into the 21st Century; not as Humans or Metahumans, but as a global, unified people.

I... Am Virgil Rowell, Director of this facility.

We look forward to your stay.


Rules


[1.1] - Whilst I'm not holding anyone to a specific Character Sheet format. Incomplete or in progress sheets should not be posted in the OOC outside of Hider tags, and ABSOLUTELY should not be posted in the character tab. If a Character Sheet is completed after being added to the OOC In Progress, remove the hider tags and announce that it has since been completed to the GM for review.

[1.2] - Completed sheets are to be posted in the Out of Character Thread for review until approved. Once approved you may move your sheet into the Character Thread for storage.

[2.1] - Sheets will be reviewed and accepted/denied within 24 hours of a posted completed sheet in most instances. Please try to understand that in the event of numerous character sheets being submitted in the same day or due to obligations or circumstances outside of the guild, there may be minor delays.

[2.2] - In the event of a reasonable delay, any displays of impatience towards the GMs will be met with dickishness and ridicule. The GM lives for these moments. He is a bastard and his rudeness knows no bounds when provided the circumstances to let it off the leash unfettered.

[3.1] - Respect the Game Master. The GM's word is to be adhered to; don't argue or disregard it unnecessarily. If the GM asks you to stop doing something please stop. Likewise if a GM asks you to change something in your post please do. The GM or Moderator reserves the right to boot you from the game. But let's be honest... he'll probably move to dickishness and ridicule first. As is his way, as is his right.

[3.2] - Respect the other players. Constructive criticism is fine, but flaming or trying to run players off just because you don't like the way they do things is not okay. Remember, it's the GM's job, not yours, to point out if there's a problem. If you feel that there is a problem, then contact the GM directly. In all cases understand that it is the GMs role to understand and prescribe the correct amount of dickishness and ridicule. People please, leave it to the expert.

[3.3] - Likewise any quarrels will be dealt with by the GM. Don't take them out in the OOC, arguments should be dealt with between the two parties through private messaging. If the involved parties truly can't solve their issues the GM can act as an arbiter upon request. The GM reserves the right to conk both parties heads together like Moe from the Three Stooges. Some eye-poking may be part of the process.

[4.1] - Absolutely no 'OOC' chatter in the In Character Thread. If you have a question or anything to explain there is an Out Of Character Thread provided. You have no excuse to make an 'OOC' comment in the IC and if done it will be heavily frowned upon.

[5.1] - If you find yourself in a plot with another player and they disappear, do your best to move on without them and quickly finish the arc to the best of your ability, or ask for the help of the GM.

[6.1] - No God-Modding or metagaming. This refers to controlling or manipulating another player's character in way that is completely self-beneficial and not pre-approved by the other player. This also includes being untouchable against NPC characters as well as being all knowing.

[7.1] - This is a Character Driven RP, and as such you are encouraged and expected to take charge of your character's sub-plots and storylines. This is a favourite rule of mine, and that said, there will be a heavy emphasis on collaborative activities and team building as well. The GM will be leading the RP in the traditional sense with a driving plot and will ensure the RP keeps moving however I do want to see you develop your characters and produce your own plots. However we don't want to see you lock your character out of interaction and focus solely on your character and their 'world'. No one enjoys watching you play with yourself, it's always better to let someone else join in on the fun. Incessantly playing with self, or rubbing self on the carpets may result in squirting with a water bottle by the GM.

[8.1.] - Player Characters are not to be killed without permission nor that player's supporting cast members. It is fine to kill nameless NPC's, but PC's or important NPC's will require authorization by their creator except in the event of a GM event.


SUGGESTED CS TEMPLATE

I'm not holding people to a rigid format if they want to enter something else. But if you're stuck and looking for something, here's something you can use - (copy/paste everything below the {hr}):




A L I A S
N A M E ◼ B I R T H D A T E ( A G E ) ◼ G E N D E R
"Witty Quote #1"

▼ A P P E A R A N C E:
"Witty Quote #2"
//STATS:
◼ HEIGHT | How tall is your character?

◼ WEIGHT | How heavy is your character?

◼ BUILD | Your character's body shape, this can be a single descriptive word that you can build on in the description section below.

◼ HAIR COLOUR | What colour is your character's hair? Note you can elaborate on this in the description if your character changes their hair colour often or if it's a difficult to describe colour or combination.

◼ EYE COLOUR | What is your character's eye colour? This can be elaborated on if needed in the description should your character be wearing coloured contacts or has changing eye colours due to their abilities.

◼ 'VOICE' TEXT COLOUR | What text colour will you be using? Hex code and/or colour name. This will also be collected and listed by your character's name on the initial post in the character tab.

◼ OTHER | Can be changed/removed depending on if your character has any other noteworthy features. Feel free to add additional stats for piercings, tattoos, scars etc. Sexuality could also be added here if you feel it's worth noting.

//DESCRIPTION:
A written description of the character's appearance. Keep in mind that appearance isn't only limited to their physical make up, but the style of clothes they wear, their body language and in general how they present themselves.

▼ B I O G R A P H Y:
"Witty Quote #3"
This is the story of your character's life, their defining moments and how they made it from the womb to where they are now. You can include as much other details as you think is necessary but don't go overboard and spell everything out. Sometimes its best to show through the IC than to tell in the CS.


▼ M O T I V A T I O N / O B J E C T I V E:
"Witty Quote #4"
What is driving your character? What makes them tick? Why do they act the way they do?

▼ A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
"Witty Quote #5"
//ABILITIES:
◼ TBD | Test

//SKILLS:
◼ TBD | Test

//LIMITATIONS:
◼ TBD | Test

//WEAKNESSES:
◼ TBD | Test

▼ N O T E S:
//SUPPORTING CAST:
▼ ALLIES
◼ TBD | Test

▼ FRIENDS
◼ TBD | Test

▼ ENEMIES
◼ TBD | Test

//STOMPING GROUNDS
◼ TBD | Test

//PARAPHERNALIA
◼ TBD | Test




* Logo Art by the Incomperable @Psych0pomp
In Post-P.R.C.U. Pitch Platter → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
My intention is to get the Zero Post done, and the Game thread up today. Hopefully in the time the wee one goes down for a nap in around... OOo... three or four hours.

So, if we can decide on a setting city by then - at this point, it's seeming like Alcatraz Island and San Francisco is the way to go.
In Post-P.R.C.U. Pitch Platter → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
I'll just throw out some of the few locations I've heard so far. See if we can reach a consensus here, whilst I'm still working away at the game sheet and Zero-post.

So far I've heard:
San Francisco - Re-purposed, refurbished Alcatraz
Detroit
Cleveland
St Louis
Dallas
Minneapolis
San Antonio
Austin
Baton Rouge
Jackson, MS
Boston
Richmond
New Orleans - Zoldyck said he wants Mardi Gras to be a factor. He wants beads and tits a-kimbo.
Hawaii
The Appalachians - Which, if I were going to make it work, would be some built up population somewhere nearby - so, probably Pittsburgh

As well as the ol' staples New York, LA and Chicago.

Just worth thinking about. I'll drag this into the Discord as well, but yes, if you lot could settle on a consensus for city, whilst I'm working on the Zero post and Game sheet... that should keep us all on task.
In Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - [CLOSED] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Did you hear about this new kid, Banjo..?
-
-
-
-
-
...told Hyperion to go fuck himself...

-
-
-
-
-
-
...heard he spat in his face and told him to get out of here...
-
-
-
-
-
-
...My little sister said he does community stuff in the Collegiate library. Said he was cute...

-
-
-
-
-
-
...punched him in the head. Hyperion threw him away and stabbed a kid trying to get him...
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
...girl in my class said he's like seven feet tall. Looked Hyperion square in the eye whilst he was flying and told him to get fucked...

-
-
-
-
-
...heard he hit him with one of those cars...

-
-
-
-
-
...I heard my sister's boyfriend's roommate say Hyperion threatened to stab that kid. He said not to, and then he did it just out of, like, spite or something. So he told him to go fuck himself and just started beating on him until Hyperion got scared and fled. That Banjo kid like, flew after him and then Hyperion used his powers to de-power the area and he fell out of the sky...		-
-
...He killed him. But he, like, can't die. It's his power or something...
-
-
-
-
...My sister said he's, like, in a coma in the hospital. And that only the kiss from this year's Prom Queen can, like, bring him out of it. She's so dumb, man. Still... weirder stuff happens...

-
-
-
-
-
...He made Hyperion bleed...
-
-
-
-
-
-
...My brother said he was his best friend. He's absolutely gonna join Canis...

-
-
-
-
-
-
-
...they like fought over the plateau in this knock-down drag-out hyperbrawl to end all hyperbrawls. But then his powers y'know... timed out on him or something... and Hyperion just kept wailing on him. But that Banjo kid actually beat him so bad, he like scarred Hyperion up and stuff, underneath the mask. It made him so mad he stabbed the next kid he saw...

-
-
-
-
-
...He told him there was no place for him here, so he should fuck off. And then he made these hundred illusions of himself, and Hyperion got so scared he fled, and took all those turncoat kids with him...
-
-
-
-
-
...He was soooooooo hot...
Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
First Class: # 2.81 Telephone
Interaction(s): Adrianna Dahl - Don't mind me... Just Playing With Myself Over Here
Previously: Cool Burning

Banjo was lugging his footlocker over from the Intake House to his new House over in Strigidae. Awkwardly-sized to carry, but not overly heavy since he had recently "juiced". He'd never really paid attention to the House situation on initial Orientation, he hadn't much cared at the time, he just figured he could ask questions when the time actually became pertinent and someone would point the way.

So he was extremely pleasantly surprised when he came upon the building where he'd be housed and saw multiple banners.

The orange owl he'd chosen hung from one side of the house... but also a brown bear on the other.

He dropped his footlocker and laughed a sharp cackle at his good fortune. They may not have shared the same house, but their houses shared the same building.

This was even better. They weren't in THE SAME house, so they wouldn't get under each other's feet. It'd give him a buffer. Maybe stretch out the amount of time before she realised he's a bit of a dickhead. But they were still in the same building, so it made seeing each other a lot easier.

He'd fallen arse-backwards into the best possible situation.

He bent back down to pick up his footlocker and found a short blonde emerge from the front door, and with a small shriek of joy at another large box, only slightly smaller than the footlocker he carried, that was awaiting her on the front doorstep. She rushed back inside, presumably to get some kind of dolly truck or help to take the large box inside.

Banjo sighed, walked to the porch and stacked the box on top of the footlocker he was already carrying, and, carefully straightening his knees to keep the box from sliding off, began to carry everything inside.

"Ohhhh, thanks!" The blonde said as she returned with a dolly truck, running a hand through her blonde hair as she sized him up. A little lean for her tastes, but he did seem deceptively strong. Banjo sighed and moved on to where someone else was waiting, as she followed.

"Hey, I'm just checking in for my room. I know I'm late, but, well-- yeah. Anyway, my name's... ah shit, what am I down there as again--?" He tried to remember the surname he was going by.

"Oh shit, it's you!" The guy exclaimed, in excited surprise. He hadn't been exactly sure what to expect when the last name on the accommodations list had been crossed off. But immediately made the connection from the accent.

"That's right!" Adrianna added, not quite aware that she wasn't the one being recognised.

"Yeah, sure, man! You go right on in! Uhh-- level 5! Call out for Zimmerman, he's always in his dorm, he'll set you up!"

"Cheers, cob'." He said, walking away.

"You're awesome!" The guy called back. Pointing, then changing his hand to a fist in solidarity.

"Thank you!" Adie replied, as she led the way to the elevator.

"So what room am I taking this box to?" He asked the short blonde, who he also in kind, didn't recognise. The elevator doors opened.

"Oh, you move fast..." She said with a giggle, boarding the elevator, pressing her '4', his '5' and spreading her arms across the handrail, biting her bottom lip.

"What?" He said, baffled by the comment as he stepped onboard himself.

"Oh please. Acting like you don't recognise me. But deciding to pick up MY box. Trying to find out which room I'm in..." Adie numbered off his apparent transgressions. "You're cute and I'm flattered. But the act's getting old."

"I have no idea who you arrrrre... Ariana Dale?" He said misreading the name by the address for the box, because he couldn't get a good angle on it. "And I picked up the box because you're tiny and I just juiced. So to me... it ain't heavy, just awkwardly sized. And yeah. I want to know what room the box goes to. What are you, one of those 'influencers' or something?"

Adrianna flushed red with rage as her entire career led to her being mischaracterised as 'an influencer or something'.

"Adrianna. Dahl. As in Fortune 500s Adrianna Dahl. As in former C.E.O. of D.O.T.C.O.M. As in Producer of 1 Billion in downloaded apps, Adrianna Dahl." She scowled, spitting through gritted teeth.

"Oh."

"Oh?!?"

"Yeah. Oh. I-- don't have a phone."

"You don't have a--" Suddenly she realised he was telling the truth. The humm around him was strangely silent. Her face screwed up in bafflement. "What kind of caveman are you..?"

"Waaaaait... you thought I was trying to make a move on you."

"Shut up!"

"What kind of caveman am I..? What's the gravity like on the planet you're from?"

"Shutup-Shutup-Shutup!"

"Lady, I'm seventeen." He said as the doors opened. The use of 'Lady' just driving home another wound.

"Ohmigod would you shut up!" She said as she stepped out. Raising her palms as if desperate to just push the entire situation away from her.

"Sure, sure. Where do you want the box?"

"Just-- put it down and go already."

"Done. I'm out." He put both boxes down, removed the top box and laid it at her feet, before picking his footlocker back up and hitting the button for the elevator which instantly opened. Adie had technopatically held the lift on their floor til this horiffic situation could be whisked away, anyone else wanting the lift would just have to wait.



The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor, and Banjo alighted with his big box o' everything.

It was far quieter than the communal hustle and bustle of downstairs.

"Hey! Zimmerman!" He called out into the silence.

After a few seconds a head poked out of a doorway into the hall.

"Yeeeah..?" The head offered tentatively.

"Yeah, you've got a room in there for me."

"Oh so you're Andr--"

"Banjo." He corrected. "But the name you probably got given was 'Andrew Olyphant' or something like that. Anyway, can I chuck this stuff on inside?" He asked, slapping the sides of the footlocker with his fingers.

"Ban-- Banjo?" The diminutive kid's eyes doubled. "Yeah, yeah, sure man. Just let me get the door."

Zimmerman scurried around the door and held it open for him, giving him a wide berth.

Banjo walked in, and was stunned at the size of the place. He'd been in a lot of boarding schools, but even the fanciest, which most 'catered to the elite' still had nothing on the living space. Along with a large kid reading a comic on a long sectional couch who seemed completely non-plussed by his presence.

"Bloody Hell..." He exclaimed.

"Ye-- Yeah, pretty good, eh?" Zimmerman said with a smile.

"Anyway, I'm Alex. The guy lying on the couch is 'Big Steve' and yeah... welcome to our humble abode!" Alex started to get more excited. Jittery. "Kitchen. Bathroom. Laundry. Tv... I mean, obviously. Of course there's another in your-- oh, right! Your room!"

Alex led the way to a door, grabbed the handle and opened it. Revealing an exorbitantly sized bedroom for a boarding house.

"You can put your box down in there."

Banjo walked around the room. It allowed a small amount of natural light through a single small south-facing window. Banjo considered this and wondered how far he could push his luck.

"Any chance I could snatch up one of the southern bedrooms?"

"Uhh--" Alex considered a door which had been locked up tight since Banjo had gotten there. "Well, Big Steve has the other northern bedroom, and then there's-- you know what. Just take mine. I'll move my stuff in there now. Gimme five minutes."

"It's just-- I just got out of hospital, and natural sunlight's good for me."

"Yeah, no, don't worry about it, don't mention it..." Alex scurried around moving his stuff into the other bedroom. "You might want to wash the bedding and stuff, but other than that I try to keep it clean. Just let me know if you find any of my stuff that I missed still floating around."

Banjo reached up on Alex's shelf and grabbed a toy Superman figurine.

"Hey, whoa, got that. Let me just take that off you... Thanks."

"You blokes like comics..? Gimme a minute, let's see what I've got here..."

Banjo put his footlocker down in the once-Zimmerman's-now-his bedroom and opened up the industrial storage sized padlock that kept it locked. Flipping the lid back. He started digging through the detritus of his life until he produced a handful of dog-eared and slightly torn up Phantom comics.

"Bloke who drives me round, if there's a major city fair when we're there he scoops me a couple of showbags. Gets me one with these, and a Bertie Beetle bag every time. But you want to have a look-see, go for it."

Alex took the books, that were in such a state of disrepair they made him considerably nervous that this Banjo might ever touch his own things, and returned an attempt at a smile. "The Phantom. This is like that Billy Zane movie, yeah?"

"Whoa... they're black and white?"

"Yeah, they're made on that newspaper paper type. Keeps them cheap, I s'pose. Whaddayou call it--"

"Pulp."

"Yeah, that!"

"Anyway, you want to go grab the stuff out of the room they assigned you and bring it in here. You've got some school uniforms and books and stuff."

He re-hung the school clothes in the closet, which looked bare as he still kept his other clothes and belongings in his footlocker. And brought back an arm full of his schoolbooks which he dumped into the footlocker, before locking it back up.

He looked in his pocket at the envelope he'd scooped off his desk, and opening it read some garbage about how he'd 'Made the right choice' from some House Captain or Team Spirit leader or who-gives-a-shit who. He slid the letter back in and flung the envelope to sights unseen within the darkest corners of his new room somewhere.

Banjo left the room and looked down from the living quarters. Far below was a pool, patio, barbecue and hot tub. He remembered back to that night about Calliope not feeling comfortable in a state of undress in front of him... but maybe things would be different in a bathing suit? He started to plot his plots, and plan his plans, as gears turned.

"Oh, you're looking at the pool." Alex Zimmerman stated the obvious.

"Ever have building wide parties down there, or anything like that?"

"Heh. YEAH they do."

Banjo straightened up. "They?"

"Yeah, but, y'know. We're not really invited."

"Invited? You live here. It's implied."

"Yeeeah, but they wouldn't really want us down there."

Banjo raised his eyebrows in disbelief at what he was hearing. "If I only ever went to places I was wanted, I wouldn't go anywhere. Anyway, I've gotta go see a bloke about something. Don't wait up." He left, closing the door behind him.

"Huh. That went well. Seriously, he's THAT Banjo kid?"

"I can't believe you just gave him your room."

"No, no! This'll work out, see. Because HE'S cool. He'll open doors and get us in places."

"Didn't you hear him? He doesn't get invited. He just goes."

"I know! And how cool is that!"

Big Steve turned the page and continued reading his comic book.

"I dunno. I'm just not sure I ever heard of 'Cool' being a transferrable property. Call me skeptical. Look just... don't get your hopes up. We don't know anything about the guy."

"Uhh... we know he's cool, and a fucking SCHOOL HERO right now. What else is there to know?"

Big Steve shook his head and kept reading.



The Butler and Banjo walked up and down the aisles of the fishing tackle shop. The Butler had a cheap white Captain's hat on him which to Banjo looked ridiculous, and he didn't hesitate to tell him as much.

"You didn't tell me we had 'Boat money'."

"That's because WE don't have 'Boat money'. I have 'Boat money'. Just like I had squirreled away 'Downpayment for a House in the Alumni Village' money. 'WE' have 'Pay Your Tuition for a school which covers those costs in other ways and doesn't ask us for so much as five cents' money."

"Have you ever even taken a boat out on the water?"

"Yeeees, mate, I have taken a boat out on the water. I have had a life outside of driving you about the bloody place." He rolled his eyes, exasperated at the younger one's incessant questioning and doubts towards his capabilities.

He carried the large tacklebox, whilst Banjo hefted the plastic bags of bait that he'd ask for.

"Right, Gene. I'll take the tacklebox, the bait, and anything else you've got to recommend putting in the tacklebox. Oh, and all on the card. Cheers. Ta."

"And that'll be all?"

"That'll be all for today, Gene." He paid for everything, and a receipt spurted out, which he quickly scrawled and signed.

"Well, catch you next time, Harry! Best of luck!"

'Harry'! Banjo thought to himself, and slapped a palm down on the bench over the receipt. Finally, he'd slipped up and given him something. A smirk crossed the Butler's face.

Banjo looked down at the receipt.

"Oh, Ha Ha. Very bloody funny."

The smirk on the Butler's face widened.

Banjo held the receipt up to the man behind the counter.

"You know he's not Harold Bloody Holt, right?"

"The payments clear." He shrugged. "Who's Harold Holt?"

"Former Prime Minister of Australia. He disappeared one day in the '60s when he went for a swim."

"And a bloody long swim to Canada it was, too. Catch ya next time, Gene!" The Butler said, picking up his purchases and heading for the door.

"Bye Harry!" Was the returning farewell. Banjo quietly seethed.

The Butler laughed as the pair got outside. "You really thought you bloody had me there, didn't you?"

"We've been living these lives for how long now? And you really think I don't have my shit down pat?"

"I need a phone."

"Awww not this garbage again, we've been over this..."

"It's different now. I need to be able to airdrop assignments. It's becoming increasingly weird that I DON'T have one to people around me."

"The people around you who are alive, yeah? And it's pretty nice that they are. So how about we keep it that way?"

"Look, could you at least EXPLAIN it to me properly so that it makes sense, and then maybe none of this would be necessary."

"Mate, it's not my place to tell."

"Why can't I have a normal FUCKING life?!" He exploded. "I get dragged around the country for a decade and a half, then flown overseas just to be told 'Yeah, we're settling you down here' but you still can't have the bas--"

"Alllright. Enough of the sob story. Look. I'll see what I can do. But no promises. This is-- it's not the best time. It's a shitty time really. I've got to talk to someone."

- - -

- -|◄ [url=First Post URL]FIRST[/url]---
◄ [url=Previous Post URL]PREV[/url] || [url=Next Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)]NEXT[/url] ►-
-
[url=Latest Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)]LATEST[/url] ►|


In Post-P.R.C.U. Pitch Platter → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Well, the Discord Server is in place (as barebones as it is at this stage - bring your own milk crate to sit on). Anyone who requires an invite who I missed, please let me know, and understand the oversight wasn't intentional.
In Post-P.R.C.U. Pitch Platter → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Hound...... for the sake of all things holy, just get the RP up so we can apply..... please.


We're getting there...
In Post-P.R.C.U. Pitch Platter → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Would like to open another question up to the floor, since it's you folk who'll be playing this game, and in the Interest Check we've been working on, we've left it open to ask you lot...

Where would you initially like this to be geographically set?

Los Angeles? Chicago? New York? It's not multiple choice. Up to you, the player base.

In Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - [CLOSED] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
"Cultural fire means everything. It means healing Country and when
you heal Country, you heal people." - Wurundjeri Elder Dave Wandin


"Did the Larrakia even practice this?" Banjo interjected to little welcome.

It was his first class and was going less than swimmingly. And strangely not because he was trying to be disruptive.

"Yes. It was a practice passed down through the generations by many First Nations peoples, including the Larrakia. And the Northern Territory was one of the first regions to start supporting cultural burning practices. After Indigenous populations started to return from pre-arranged 'settlements'. Governments which had, in many instances been ordering First Nations people from their land, not only did they allow them to return, but they swiftly re-integrated native cultural burning practices due to the land falling to such a state of disrepair."

Another student leaned over from his chair. "That answer your question, White fella?"

"Actually, yeah, because--"

"Now, now. That's not an unreasonable question. There were hundreds of groups of First Nations peoples, and due to the land the Larrakia occupied, it didn't necessarily require the same level of maintainance as, say Arnhem Land. But the Larrakia WERE a trading sea-faring people and accumulated a lot of knowledge from other peoples. And whilst their land may not have had the same requirements in terms of cultural fire management, they did have the knowledge, and the means to gain that knowledge."

"Also, sadly, in a lot of cases, particularly around city regions, invasion either wiped out entire groups of First Nations people, or annihilated large enough numbers that fire knowledge died out. Combined with the land they were on here in the first place... well, I didn't think I was asking a stupid question. But yeah. I didn't consider the knowledge may have been wider spread due to trading communications, and less held and controlled by only a few elders as is often the case with other First Nations peoples."

An uncomfortable pause filled the room.

"Oh c'mon... I didn't bloody wipe 'em out. I'm just sayin' it happened! 'Cos it did!"

The teacher stamped out the awkward silence like a creeping fire that was headed towards overly flammable brush.

"And you're correct to say so, because it did. But if we can get back on the topic at hand..."

He tapped the smartboard and the two words behind him, before circling them.

Cool Burning


"What do we know about this?"

"We know to burn low." The teacher wrote the word 'Low' on the board. "Yes! Next."

"We know to burn either eary morning or night." The teacher added 'Early morn / night'. "Yes, why's that important?"

"Dew." The chorus went up from most of the students. "That's right, and why..?"

"It's what makes it a cool burn. And mostly self-extinguishes." "That's good."

"And what else do we know?"

"Different times, depending on region."

"That's right. The various Aboriginal peoples knew that the land dictates when the burn should take place. They knew how to read country, and when it was appropriate to use fire. The country in Arnhem Land speaks differently than that of the Kaurna people, and the timing becomes very different accordingly. When trees flower, when the wet season falls, all of these things differ and the country reveals all if you know how to read it."

He then moved across the smart board and wrote one final word.

Why?


"And why do we do it?"

"Gardening, eh, sir?" One student spoke up. "That's right. Can extend that to our role as custodians of the land. Not as owners, but caretakers, working with it."

"Made hunting easier." The teacher wrote 'Hunting' on the board. "Good one, mate. And not many may have been thinking of the practical reasons. But yes, it made hunting easier. Cleared out tall grasses and bush which would have given places to hide."

The teacher turned back to the class.

"Looking for one word. Starts with an 'R'."

"Rejuvenation." Banjo thought to himself.

"Respect." One student spoke up from the back. Banjo turned around. The boy made eye contact with him briefly, before looking back to the teacher at the front of the class.

"That's-- actually, that's also correct. Not the word I was looking for. But respect for country, it's absolutely a correct answer. Nice, Mamili."

The teacher turned and wrote "& Respect" on the smartboard, before looking back to the class. "Anyone? Anyone now what that other 'R' word might be? No? Alright. It's 'Re-juv-en-a-tion'" He sounded it out as he wrote the rest of the word on the board. "Native flora and fauna responds far better to cultural cool burning practices than introduced species and pests. Native grasses re-grow. Native trees will germinate. The entire eco-system is replenished by the initial burn."

"Tempered by flames, country grows back stronger and better. And less susceptible to harm by untamed fire in the future. More prepared to handle future wild bushfires started by lightning strike or in hot situations..."
Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
First Class: # 2.79 Cool Burning
Interaction(s): Nil
Previously: Previous Title

"The trunks show that they know fire, they live and understand fire, they’re
trees that belong to the fire." - Kuku Thaypan Elder Dr Tommy George


She wasn't particularly imposing when she finally made her appearance. But then he supposed she needn't be. The specialist. The one who takes away all of the pain, discomfort and disrepair, and makes it her own for a time.

She turned through X-Rays and scans of the damage he'd sustained.

"So this is it? Some broken ribs. Lungs aren't too bad now, nothing structural there at least. Kidney. Spleen. And a sore throat. The most questionable thing I can see here is the head trauma."

"Head trauma? My head feels fine."

"I'm talking in terms of potential brain damage. That's not something I want to mess around with, if I'm taking all of this on. It could affect how my hype gene activates, then I'd be left healing from all of this at a natural pace. There was some brain bleed, some swelling. They induced a coma to try and take it down. That's not nothing."

"So you can't help me out?"

"I didn't say that. We're waiting on the latest." She kept a clipped, medical tone.

She sighed.

"This isn't that bad. Assuming the results of your latest scan show significant improvement in this region," she circled a part of the scan which showed large discolouration "then we should be clear for a therapeautic session. Everything goes right, you'd then be out in a little over an hour. There's an hour mandatory observation period. You clear that, and you should feel fine during that time, and you're all done."

And, as if on queue, a scan operator poked her head through the door and handed a yellow envelope containing his most recent results. She took them with a subtle thanks, and opened the envelope, holding them up to the light briefly.

"Aaaaand, we should be good to go."

She put the scan transparency over a backlit holder which showed that the discolouration had indeed faded, showing a marked improvement to his condition.



Banjo sat on a new, different hospital bed, awaiting the specialist's return. His ribs still ached.

A wheelchair was brought in, with the specialist sitting in it in a patient's gown and surgical hat.

"So how's all this go then?" Banjo asked.

"Well, we swap for a start. The bed's for me, you're for the chair."

Banjo screwfaced. He knew exactly how much this was going to suck, collapsing back down into the wheelchair.

"Yeah 'right. How we gonna manage this then..." He muttered to himself.

With some assistance from the nursing staff, Banjo was seated in the wheelchair and the specialist was lying on her back upon the hospital bed.

"Now... closer.

Banjo was slowly wheeled closer. The whole situation made him slightly nervous. Like there was some strange occult magic about to take place, which stood in stark contrast to the sterile hospital environment.

Her hands glowed and an energy swirled. Blues and oranges and purples. She was hesitant, as if she was well accustomed to what was in store for her, and needed to mentally prepare, and then her hand was upon him. He felt nothing at first. And watched as her lip slightly curled as the damage began to transfer and the pain travelled up her nerves in the process. Banjo wanted to tell her to stop. That it was enough, that he could wait and let the rest heal naturally, but the nurse hushed him. The pain in his ribs started to subside. The minor niggle in his throat that remained from the intubation, grew more distant. Like a distant echo from a faraway memory.

She never complained, teeth remained gritted as she bore the pain. And then the hand lifted and the moment ceased.

There was a gentle sigh, and after a few moments of silence he was wheeled away. Unsure what to make of the entire experience.

His pain was indeed gone. He assumed the actual damage was as well, but he felt so fine that it all seemed so strange that anything actually happened. As if his injuries were nothing but a faint memory from a dream.

He was wheeled to a ward for his hour's observation.



Banjo was free. Free from his wheelchair, free from the ward. He wore his new Strigidae uniform which had been delivered to him - and he found himself swimming in,he had indeed lost a lot of weight from his week trapped indoors - as he walked the school grounds alone at an awkward hour of the day.

It all seemed surreal.

He would be expected to go back to the Intake House to move his stuff to his new House dorm. But that could wait some. He was outside. He was free. The sun shon down, like it was made for him.

He looked up and found himself alone in parklands, trees and greenery, blue skies and yellow sun. Bright colours the antithesis of the whites, greys and darkened corners of the Hospital rooms he'd been shuffled between with their artificial lighting.

He looked to his left and right and checked he was indeed alone. A broad smile crossed his face.

With a sudden burst he drank deep of the sun. His breath quickened and then halted, his body turned black. His back seemed to click into refreshed place after spending too long tightened, removing the pressure on his ribs. Muscles and sinew re-knitted and his synapses flared, providing a quick hit of ecstasy. He held it and worked to restore his breathing whilst he juiced. The corona started to swirl around his person, as the surrounding air temperature dropped markedly. Perhaps two or three degrees. His teeth shon bright through his broadened smile. It took work to hold his breathing steady, as if it weren't a natural thing, in his current state.

He felt his body flood with the sensation. He felt like he was throbbing with energy. He stopped the process and let his body power down. He took a deep breath, as he felt refreshed. He was still swimming in his uniform, but he didn't feel as frail anymore.

He took another look around left and right and shuffled a little. He bounced up on the balls of his feet a few times. Continuing to look around. Not looking to ensure people were a safe distance anymore. Instead checking for witnesses.

His broad smile turned to playful grin and he took off at a sprint. He glided at an Olympic level athlete's gait, before taking three well placed steps, planting and leaping eleven feet upwards towards the thick bough of a tree. Snatching it with one hand, he swung with his legs to propel him to a higher branch, snatching it with the other, and turning his body to another branch, releasing and grabbing it with both hands. He laughed joyfully. And with a half swing, quickly brought himself up to a seated position, some thirty feet off the ground.

Far above, his new Head of House, Theron Demetrios smiled, watching the troubled youth have his fun and enjoying the unique perspective his own power of flight provided him. A drone swarm swept up, and diverted its path around him, recognising the chip in the wristband that Isabella Christianson had provided him.

Even in a hyperhuman school where it's understood that some people can fly, you'd be surprised how rarely people actually look up.

Banjo clung to the canopy and swung from the treetops, elated with his rejuvenated health. The sun, the trees, the sky, the land. He was back amongst what felt natural.

“Keep your eyes on the sun and you will not see the shadows.” - Traditional Aboriginal Saying


- - -

- -|◄ [url=First Post URL]FIRST[/url]---
◄ [url=Previous Post URL]PREV[/url] || [url=Next Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)]NEXT[/url] ►-
-
[url=Latest Post URL (Edited after a subsequent post is added, can be linked to current post is current is latest)]LATEST[/url] ►|


In Post-P.R.C.U. Pitch Platter → 2 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
But ONLY concern (and please feel free to assure me it's invalid) is that with some people opting out of PRCU and going into this new game (and vice versa) that there will be some type of 'my rp is better than your rp' feud. I truly don't see it happening, but I can't help but have it in the back of my mind.


There's zero animosity between the three people running the two. I can tell you that much.

What happens with players within, I can't dictate.
© 2007-2025
BBCode Cheatsheet