jennifer lost the war Member
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- jennifer lost the war 11 yrs ago
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The RP I'm currently GMing started out that way. RPers would write 3-4 posts covering everything we needed to know about their characters in what we eventually dubbed as 'the flashback phase'. All these posts took place before the major event that the RP is centered upon. Everyone was required to write up sheets afterward (which wasn't originally intended), but I had never taken that approach before and I thought it was fun. I would do it again, depending on the RP. I don't actually value sheets all that much, it's just easier to refer back to one when you need to find something out about another character. Going through posts is much more tedious.
“Well, I’m hoping I won’t need to run from your teachings,” Ken remembered saying to Iraltiphos when he was first teaching him to suppress his spirit energy to avoid others from detecting him. Although he understood the value in knowing how to do it, he never imagined a situation where he would actually need to. Yet here he was, traveling the streets and trying to assimilate into crowds of people, trying to look like he belonged and had a destination like the rest of them. “You’re a fugitive,” he remembered the detective saying before he knocked him out. Ken had no idea if the police force had any capacity or method of detecting his spiritual presence, but he wasn’t willing to take the chance.
They had guns, he thought to himself. And despite all his strength, he couldn’t stand up against that, especially if he wasn’t willing to fight to kill. He had never killed in his life. Fighting was a sport and an art to him. The idea of killing never crossed his mind. However, after what he had done to the detective, it was possible that they were out looking for him to execute him. He had always fought people on even ground—looking to knock them out as they would to him, or simply to train, but now people may be out to kill him, and he would have to fight back without the intent to kill. Not to mention the fact that all he had were his fists. It would be an uphill battle. They’re just going to arrest me, Ken thought, trying to reassure himself, but then he thought of Iraltiphos’ death and the fact that poets were beginning to be rounded up and killed in America, with the rest of the world quickly following. What’s one more death?
He kept his head up high as he walked in the crowd, not wanting to look suspicious. Despite being in plain sight, the idea that he was suppressing his spirit energy made him feel invisible. He could detect everybody around him, including those behind him and behind walls. Considering his not being able to locate his master the day before even though he was right in front of him, he understood what it was like trying to detect a suppressed energy signature. It was possible that nobody in the country knew how to detect him in the first place and his suppression made no difference, but he still felt invisible. It was stupid, but it gave him the confidence he needed not to panic.
It was rare to see large crowds Tokyo, or anywhere in Japan for that matter, so Ken began to question how he was able to have this cover to conveniently here for him. The answer came to him in a banner that came into view as they approached it: The National Kendo Championship. Crowds of people were flocking to the area. Even though the tournament itself wouldn’t begin for another week, with the epic disaster in the country twenty years ago, the people clung harder to their traditions and in their efforts to educate people about them. The area would be open a week in advance for spectators to witness demonstrations and training, along with tours that included an extensive history of the Way of the Sword and the samurai.
Ken smiled, glad to take part of this convenient distraction for the time being so he could figure out his situation. Would this be the first place they’d look for me, he asked himself, as he approached the entrance. He shrugged it off and figured that there were enough people here to give the police a hard time finding him. He walked through the entrance still with his confidence in being invisible.
“Your ticket?” a man at the entrance asked, stopping him from advancing.
Ken was taken aback, as though he had just snapped out of a day dream. “Ugh…,”
“Very well,” Elise heard the voice say from the receiver and she grinned as though she had been victorious in a great battle.
“See you soon,” she replied as she walked into the main lobby and entered the elevator. She began to think of ways to engage in conversation with Dr. Plant. Afterall, she didn’t actually want to talk about magic. In fact, she half-expected that her excuse to come see him would fall flat and not work at all. Now she was committed. Although she wasn’t exactly a master at her own form of magic, she studied magic for a good portion of her life, and pretending to be dumb wasn’t her strong suit. What is she going to say to him?
The question didn’t linger for more than a moment before she took out Abal from her back pocket and kept track of where the unknown creature was. As expected, as the elevator rose to the top floor, the creature’s location got closer and closer. However, what wasn’t expected was that even after leaving reaching the top-floor, the creature’s location was still getting closer. She practically picked Dr. Plant’s name out of a hat. What were the odds that she had picked the exact suit that she was looking for? She stood directly in front of his door and stared at her device. The creature was only a few feet away. Dr. Plant is an alien, Elise thought, almost laughing to herself. Impossible. She pushed a button on Abal, setting it to detect all living creatures and not just the unknown. Two were detected to be in Dr. Plant’s suit; one human and the other the unknown.
Well that makes a little more sense, she thought, about to put Abal away, but something on its screen caught her eye. An unidentified series of numbers appeared. Another unknown creature—this time just outside the apartment complex. She furrowed her brow and blinked a couple of times in confusion before another series of numbers appeared, and another, and another—each representing a new and unknown species. Alien invasion, she thought to herself, not quite believing it. But if it were an alien invasion they would all be the same species, she corrected herself. The numbers kept appearing. Abal was detecting all unknowns within a one mile radius and by now twenty had come up. The number kept increasing. Her jaw dropped slightly. “Damnit,” she hissed to herself before turning it off and putting it back in her back pocket.
It’s broken, she thought.
She grimaced and shut her eyes tight in frustration. She took a breath and tried to calm herself. It was just a prototype, she assured herself. At least now I know that it needs more work.
Still, now she had an obligation to at least talk to Dr. Plant for five minutes. She fixed her hair a bit and knocked on his door.
They had guns, he thought to himself. And despite all his strength, he couldn’t stand up against that, especially if he wasn’t willing to fight to kill. He had never killed in his life. Fighting was a sport and an art to him. The idea of killing never crossed his mind. However, after what he had done to the detective, it was possible that they were out looking for him to execute him. He had always fought people on even ground—looking to knock them out as they would to him, or simply to train, but now people may be out to kill him, and he would have to fight back without the intent to kill. Not to mention the fact that all he had were his fists. It would be an uphill battle. They’re just going to arrest me, Ken thought, trying to reassure himself, but then he thought of Iraltiphos’ death and the fact that poets were beginning to be rounded up and killed in America, with the rest of the world quickly following. What’s one more death?
He kept his head up high as he walked in the crowd, not wanting to look suspicious. Despite being in plain sight, the idea that he was suppressing his spirit energy made him feel invisible. He could detect everybody around him, including those behind him and behind walls. Considering his not being able to locate his master the day before even though he was right in front of him, he understood what it was like trying to detect a suppressed energy signature. It was possible that nobody in the country knew how to detect him in the first place and his suppression made no difference, but he still felt invisible. It was stupid, but it gave him the confidence he needed not to panic.
It was rare to see large crowds Tokyo, or anywhere in Japan for that matter, so Ken began to question how he was able to have this cover to conveniently here for him. The answer came to him in a banner that came into view as they approached it: The National Kendo Championship. Crowds of people were flocking to the area. Even though the tournament itself wouldn’t begin for another week, with the epic disaster in the country twenty years ago, the people clung harder to their traditions and in their efforts to educate people about them. The area would be open a week in advance for spectators to witness demonstrations and training, along with tours that included an extensive history of the Way of the Sword and the samurai.
Ken smiled, glad to take part of this convenient distraction for the time being so he could figure out his situation. Would this be the first place they’d look for me, he asked himself, as he approached the entrance. He shrugged it off and figured that there were enough people here to give the police a hard time finding him. He walked through the entrance still with his confidence in being invisible.
“Your ticket?” a man at the entrance asked, stopping him from advancing.
Ken was taken aback, as though he had just snapped out of a day dream. “Ugh…,”
“Very well,” Elise heard the voice say from the receiver and she grinned as though she had been victorious in a great battle.
“See you soon,” she replied as she walked into the main lobby and entered the elevator. She began to think of ways to engage in conversation with Dr. Plant. Afterall, she didn’t actually want to talk about magic. In fact, she half-expected that her excuse to come see him would fall flat and not work at all. Now she was committed. Although she wasn’t exactly a master at her own form of magic, she studied magic for a good portion of her life, and pretending to be dumb wasn’t her strong suit. What is she going to say to him?
The question didn’t linger for more than a moment before she took out Abal from her back pocket and kept track of where the unknown creature was. As expected, as the elevator rose to the top floor, the creature’s location got closer and closer. However, what wasn’t expected was that even after leaving reaching the top-floor, the creature’s location was still getting closer. She practically picked Dr. Plant’s name out of a hat. What were the odds that she had picked the exact suit that she was looking for? She stood directly in front of his door and stared at her device. The creature was only a few feet away. Dr. Plant is an alien, Elise thought, almost laughing to herself. Impossible. She pushed a button on Abal, setting it to detect all living creatures and not just the unknown. Two were detected to be in Dr. Plant’s suit; one human and the other the unknown.
Well that makes a little more sense, she thought, about to put Abal away, but something on its screen caught her eye. An unidentified series of numbers appeared. Another unknown creature—this time just outside the apartment complex. She furrowed her brow and blinked a couple of times in confusion before another series of numbers appeared, and another, and another—each representing a new and unknown species. Alien invasion, she thought to herself, not quite believing it. But if it were an alien invasion they would all be the same species, she corrected herself. The numbers kept appearing. Abal was detecting all unknowns within a one mile radius and by now twenty had come up. The number kept increasing. Her jaw dropped slightly. “Damnit,” she hissed to herself before turning it off and putting it back in her back pocket.
It’s broken, she thought.
She grimaced and shut her eyes tight in frustration. She took a breath and tried to calm herself. It was just a prototype, she assured herself. At least now I know that it needs more work.
Still, now she had an obligation to at least talk to Dr. Plant for five minutes. She fixed her hair a bit and knocked on his door.
Izkripp said
:( no posts..
It's coming. Been out all day. Not going to bed till it's posted.
Sounds good Kirra.
I'll try to post tomorrow night.
Yup
Bumper cars
Platanus has posted his character and the first OOC post has been edited to reflect this. If you haven't already, you should check out the new character.
Gilgamesh has entered the fray
Gilgamesh has entered the fray
“Should we get moving, sir?” a soldier asked Gilgamesh as they stood at a now vacated midtown Manhattan. All that remained were several dead bodies across the streets, most of them with their heads severed. News organizations were playing it safe and getting footage from within the nearby buildings. The masked soldier, Gilgamesh, pulled out a piece of cloth from his pocket and wiped his broadsword clean before returning it to its sheath. Although they didn’t kill a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, the main thing they wanted to do was send a message and with news of the public killings going global, they certainly succeeded. Now it was time to go on their world tour.
“I suppose we should,” Gilgamesh replied, thinking of where to go next. Someplace in Europe, he thought, maybe France. Either way, once they’re there, it won’t just be about sending a message. They’ll be doing serious hunting and making sure that anyone who stands in their way is killed.
“Sir, we have a problem,” another soldier said as he came from behind him. “There are two creatures fighting nearby and we know one of them must be an alien, considering her weaponry.”
“And the other?” Gilgamesh asked.
“Hard to say. They look human, but they’re children and their magical abilities far exceed what any child should be capable of.”
Gilgamesh merely grunted at the road block and remained silent. Although his mission was specifically to kill poets and strike fear in the common people’s hearts and minds, the mission was meant to draw the people away from the fact that aliens have come to earth. Of course, he didn’t truly care about Connor and what he wanted him to do, but he has allowed him to kill poets all this time and now he finally gets to kill as many as he wants, however he wants. If he indirectly failed in his mission because he knowingly allowed aliens to fight in the streets, it may upset the mutual agreement they’ve had all this time.
“I know the CIA said they’ll handle the aliens, but…”
“I don’t need you to explain that to me,” Gilgamesh quickly retorted. He turned his head in the direction of the battle, without being told where it was taking place. He could hear them. They were a mile away and he could hear them as though they were right in front of him. It wasn’t that they were particularly loud; the only thing that could be heard by the other soldiers was faint gunshots, but his hearing was very good. Exceptionally good. He could hear the children addressing each other as Apollo and Artemis. They wanted to play tag. Aliens and magic-using children, Gilgamesh thought, what a strange day indeed. “Let’s check it out,” he said.
Him and his four soldiers hopped into a military jeep and traveled to the scene, arriving in just a few minutes. He first set his sights on the short young woman, who he at first thought was a citizen, but saw her gun and realized that she was the alien his soldiers were talking about. She certainly knows how to use that gun too, he thought. Still, if it wasn’t for the weapon, she didn’t look out of the ordinary. Perhaps the public won’t be too suspicious yet. The children, on the other hand, not even Gilgamesh knew what to make of them.
The jeep came to a halt and the soldiers stepped out, immediately pointing their weapons at the creatures. “Fools!” Gilgamesh hissed as he stepped out. “Do not target the woman. Only the children.” The soldiers obeyed. Although the CIA didn’t want the aliens to be known by the public, if they wanted them dead Connor would have told him to do so along with the poets. He didn’t know the reasoning behind this, but since this is the first alien they have encountered, it may prove to be beneficial to him if he were able to find out what she knows, why she’s here and how she came here.
“Apollo!” Gilgamesh’s voice boomed, seemingly echoing through the streets at an obviously unnatural volume, especially considering that his mask had no openings for mouth, nose or eyes. “God of poetry, are you not?” He had not seen evidence that the children were poets, but he knew people were watching and he needed to justify his presence to them in a believable way. “Leave now if you want to keep your head on your shoulders!” he exclaimed, gripping the hilt of his broadsword for emphasis. “You!” he exclaimed once more, pointing at the young woman. “I want a word with you, soldier.”
“I suppose we should,” Gilgamesh replied, thinking of where to go next. Someplace in Europe, he thought, maybe France. Either way, once they’re there, it won’t just be about sending a message. They’ll be doing serious hunting and making sure that anyone who stands in their way is killed.
“Sir, we have a problem,” another soldier said as he came from behind him. “There are two creatures fighting nearby and we know one of them must be an alien, considering her weaponry.”
“And the other?” Gilgamesh asked.
“Hard to say. They look human, but they’re children and their magical abilities far exceed what any child should be capable of.”
Gilgamesh merely grunted at the road block and remained silent. Although his mission was specifically to kill poets and strike fear in the common people’s hearts and minds, the mission was meant to draw the people away from the fact that aliens have come to earth. Of course, he didn’t truly care about Connor and what he wanted him to do, but he has allowed him to kill poets all this time and now he finally gets to kill as many as he wants, however he wants. If he indirectly failed in his mission because he knowingly allowed aliens to fight in the streets, it may upset the mutual agreement they’ve had all this time.
“I know the CIA said they’ll handle the aliens, but…”
“I don’t need you to explain that to me,” Gilgamesh quickly retorted. He turned his head in the direction of the battle, without being told where it was taking place. He could hear them. They were a mile away and he could hear them as though they were right in front of him. It wasn’t that they were particularly loud; the only thing that could be heard by the other soldiers was faint gunshots, but his hearing was very good. Exceptionally good. He could hear the children addressing each other as Apollo and Artemis. They wanted to play tag. Aliens and magic-using children, Gilgamesh thought, what a strange day indeed. “Let’s check it out,” he said.
Him and his four soldiers hopped into a military jeep and traveled to the scene, arriving in just a few minutes. He first set his sights on the short young woman, who he at first thought was a citizen, but saw her gun and realized that she was the alien his soldiers were talking about. She certainly knows how to use that gun too, he thought. Still, if it wasn’t for the weapon, she didn’t look out of the ordinary. Perhaps the public won’t be too suspicious yet. The children, on the other hand, not even Gilgamesh knew what to make of them.
The jeep came to a halt and the soldiers stepped out, immediately pointing their weapons at the creatures. “Fools!” Gilgamesh hissed as he stepped out. “Do not target the woman. Only the children.” The soldiers obeyed. Although the CIA didn’t want the aliens to be known by the public, if they wanted them dead Connor would have told him to do so along with the poets. He didn’t know the reasoning behind this, but since this is the first alien they have encountered, it may prove to be beneficial to him if he were able to find out what she knows, why she’s here and how she came here.
“Apollo!” Gilgamesh’s voice boomed, seemingly echoing through the streets at an obviously unnatural volume, especially considering that his mask had no openings for mouth, nose or eyes. “God of poetry, are you not?” He had not seen evidence that the children were poets, but he knew people were watching and he needed to justify his presence to them in a believable way. “Leave now if you want to keep your head on your shoulders!” he exclaimed, gripping the hilt of his broadsword for emphasis. “You!” he exclaimed once more, pointing at the young woman. “I want a word with you, soldier.”
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