I like it how everyone knows spells :D I think Ned will just watch it all from the floor. Frozen in fear.
JustmeandI Member
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- JustmeandI 9 yrs ago
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Loves to RP, but is a bit rusty on the network.
Most likes Harry Potter and historical settings such as samurai, Edo/Meiji/Showa periods of Japanese history, shinobi legends, assasins (including Assassin's Creed universe).
Willing to try new topics and realities, as long as they won't take a year to get ready for (series with more than 2 seasons, more than one book etc.)
Currently playing in:
Harry Potter: Call of Darkness
Through the Rabbit Hole
Most likes Harry Potter and historical settings such as samurai, Edo/Meiji/Showa periods of Japanese history, shinobi legends, assasins (including Assassin's Creed universe).
Willing to try new topics and realities, as long as they won't take a year to get ready for (series with more than 2 seasons, more than one book etc.)
Currently playing in:
Harry Potter: Call of Darkness
Through the Rabbit Hole
Most Recent Posts
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the gallant, the exceptional talent, the immense sound of the ages, the handsome, the able and capable, the one and only… Amadeus von Errhammer!’ the announcer said and the crowd went as wild as their ballroom dress robes would allow them to.
Amadeus, named after none other but Mozart himself, walked out of the side entrance of the stage and bowed deeply, just as the ethic laws of classical music intended. His blond bangs fell over his face, but he just brushed them away with a swift and easy movement of his head. After that, he turned, positioned the violin under his chin, the bow at a 45-degree angle and then… silence. Everyone had stopped breathing, waiting for the Adagio for violin and orchestra in E major by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
The silent, soft tones started spilling out of his arm and into the bow, slowly turning into melody. Everyone into the hall was speechless; the music flew all over the seats and in-between the rounded walls of the theatre. There was nothing that could have been better for Amadeus’s parents Amanda and Karl, an American and a German, than to watch all those elite guests flow as one with Amadeus’s song.
The melody was over, then the next one – Vivaldi’s Autumn, too. After three more pieces, the dramatic slow melody of Massenet’s Thais:Meditation filled the halls with its quiet cries. No Paganini in the schedule once again, although the Devils’ Violinist, as was his notorious nickname, was the player’s favourite.
‘Danke.’
Amadeus bowed once more, putting the violin and his bow in one hand and the other next to his heart, to show his own respect towards… A crowd he never liked, one which he could even say he detested. False faces made out of plastic onto heads which never really managed to learn the art of thought. He smiled, which looked more like a grin, they say, and walked away.
‘Wondrful! Wonderful presentation as always!’ exclaimed his mother, while she was fretting about him.
He took off his gloves, collected his instrument and all the accessories in the case and left the dressing room with his mother inside. He wished he was dead. The entire thing was too much for him.
Once upon a time, he had thought this was his dream – to play in front of all those people, to enjoy their ovations, applauds, the smiles they would send him and the pats on the back. Well, it just didn’t suffice. His entire body was screaming from boredom and, neither the pianist he dated nor his grandfather’s death could have saved him from this mood. His girlfriend’s constant bragging about her achievements, even if they were half the importance of his, were annoying him like never before.
He walked to his father’s car, thinking of sitting in the passenger’s seat like always, but something took control of him… The very idea of escaping this reality where he was doing all he loved, but in a way he hated… He grabbed the driver’s door and opened it; it was unlocked. Like always, the guy at the entrance had left the keys into the starter once he had driven it out of the parking lot.
Amadeus positioned the violin case next to him, buckled it, and turned the engine on. The sweet sound of his father’s 2015 Mercedes Benz SLR McLaren Edition, bought with the money from Amadeus’s performances and contracts, was sweeter than ever.
He pushed the buttons, swished his thumb through the touch screen and the car started. There was nothing this car couldn’t do on its own, even if the young violinist couldn’t drive. He just set-up the GPS to a random location and watched the autopilot swim through the evening traffic. Amadeus never even flinched when the GPS showed the location right in front of him, over the cliff and into the deep blue waters of the nearby lake.
‘Hour of death, 00:23,’ that’s it boys, we better leave this to the CSI.
‘Such a young and handsome man,’ said the assistant coroner, but her supervisor was already in the car, awaiting her to go into the morgue and look at the files before releasing the case as yet another overworked young talent’s sad suicide.
However, the violin was never found.
It was with Amadeus’s soul, travelling to another dimension, because this very instrument was like a piece of his heart, of his whole body, like a part of his very existence…
He was drowning; the water was odd and plasma-like. As he managed to get his act together and push himself onto the side of the basin, he dropped onto a hard floor, all wet and covered in something odd. An odd bubbling sound was coming from the side and in front of him stood an oddly dressed woman.
‘Whe…’ *cough cough* A lot of water came out of his mouth. ‘Where am I?’ he asked the girl and then remembered… the violin, it was supposed to be there… Where was it?! Ah, there it was, just an arm’s length away from him. He grabbed it, much calmed now and stared at the woman.
Amadeus, named after none other but Mozart himself, walked out of the side entrance of the stage and bowed deeply, just as the ethic laws of classical music intended. His blond bangs fell over his face, but he just brushed them away with a swift and easy movement of his head. After that, he turned, positioned the violin under his chin, the bow at a 45-degree angle and then… silence. Everyone had stopped breathing, waiting for the Adagio for violin and orchestra in E major by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
The silent, soft tones started spilling out of his arm and into the bow, slowly turning into melody. Everyone into the hall was speechless; the music flew all over the seats and in-between the rounded walls of the theatre. There was nothing that could have been better for Amadeus’s parents Amanda and Karl, an American and a German, than to watch all those elite guests flow as one with Amadeus’s song.
The melody was over, then the next one – Vivaldi’s Autumn, too. After three more pieces, the dramatic slow melody of Massenet’s Thais:Meditation filled the halls with its quiet cries. No Paganini in the schedule once again, although the Devils’ Violinist, as was his notorious nickname, was the player’s favourite.
‘Danke.’
Amadeus bowed once more, putting the violin and his bow in one hand and the other next to his heart, to show his own respect towards… A crowd he never liked, one which he could even say he detested. False faces made out of plastic onto heads which never really managed to learn the art of thought. He smiled, which looked more like a grin, they say, and walked away.
‘Wondrful! Wonderful presentation as always!’ exclaimed his mother, while she was fretting about him.
He took off his gloves, collected his instrument and all the accessories in the case and left the dressing room with his mother inside. He wished he was dead. The entire thing was too much for him.
Once upon a time, he had thought this was his dream – to play in front of all those people, to enjoy their ovations, applauds, the smiles they would send him and the pats on the back. Well, it just didn’t suffice. His entire body was screaming from boredom and, neither the pianist he dated nor his grandfather’s death could have saved him from this mood. His girlfriend’s constant bragging about her achievements, even if they were half the importance of his, were annoying him like never before.
He walked to his father’s car, thinking of sitting in the passenger’s seat like always, but something took control of him… The very idea of escaping this reality where he was doing all he loved, but in a way he hated… He grabbed the driver’s door and opened it; it was unlocked. Like always, the guy at the entrance had left the keys into the starter once he had driven it out of the parking lot.
Amadeus positioned the violin case next to him, buckled it, and turned the engine on. The sweet sound of his father’s 2015 Mercedes Benz SLR McLaren Edition, bought with the money from Amadeus’s performances and contracts, was sweeter than ever.
He pushed the buttons, swished his thumb through the touch screen and the car started. There was nothing this car couldn’t do on its own, even if the young violinist couldn’t drive. He just set-up the GPS to a random location and watched the autopilot swim through the evening traffic. Amadeus never even flinched when the GPS showed the location right in front of him, over the cliff and into the deep blue waters of the nearby lake.
‘Hour of death, 00:23,’ that’s it boys, we better leave this to the CSI.
‘Such a young and handsome man,’ said the assistant coroner, but her supervisor was already in the car, awaiting her to go into the morgue and look at the files before releasing the case as yet another overworked young talent’s sad suicide.
However, the violin was never found.
It was with Amadeus’s soul, travelling to another dimension, because this very instrument was like a piece of his heart, of his whole body, like a part of his very existence…
He was drowning; the water was odd and plasma-like. As he managed to get his act together and push himself onto the side of the basin, he dropped onto a hard floor, all wet and covered in something odd. An odd bubbling sound was coming from the side and in front of him stood an oddly dressed woman.
‘Whe…’ *cough cough* A lot of water came out of his mouth. ‘Where am I?’ he asked the girl and then remembered… the violin, it was supposed to be there… Where was it?! Ah, there it was, just an arm’s length away from him. He grabbed it, much calmed now and stared at the woman.
Nah, if she's not, we better just let her be. I will not intrude on her.
@JDizzle383 Is mine also okay?
@Crimmy I wonder if you're not just godmodding my hearing enhancement with your sword enhancing your five senses....
@Crimmy I wonder if you're not just godmodding my hearing enhancement with your sword enhancing your five senses....
Thank you! Also, I think your gal should also be there ;)
Working on first post. Will prolly have it tomorrow, though.
Working on first post. Will prolly have it tomorrow, though.
Name: Amadeus von Errhammer
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: Bond hair, green eyes. Middle height.
Personality: Egoistic, apathetic, curious, introvert, artist, likes to spend time alone, or with others, but not participate in their conversations, but just to listen and engulf in the sounds.
Origin: German, but has spent his time travelling and performing.
Background: A child-prodigy, takes three-years for one in his studies, until he managed to graduate at 12. He then focuses on his music skills and improving his technique. Music is his life. He plays the violin, cello and piano. Composes his own music, but it is very dark and rarely playful which is what people usually like.
Miscellaneous:
Likes cake, avocado and Paganini. Dislikes pets, but not animals.
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: Bond hair, green eyes. Middle height.
Personality: Egoistic, apathetic, curious, introvert, artist, likes to spend time alone, or with others, but not participate in their conversations, but just to listen and engulf in the sounds.
Origin: German, but has spent his time travelling and performing.
Background: A child-prodigy, takes three-years for one in his studies, until he managed to graduate at 12. He then focuses on his music skills and improving his technique. Music is his life. He plays the violin, cello and piano. Composes his own music, but it is very dark and rarely playful which is what people usually like.
Miscellaneous:
Likes cake, avocado and Paganini. Dislikes pets, but not animals.
(I think the two characters above me have the same ability of speeding-up :P
Also, is it necessary for the sword to be a sword, or could it be any type of weapon or at least any type of cold-steel weapon?)
Name: Jon (read Yoh-n) Stekvar
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Nation of birth: Drevmort- the Northern Nation of livestock.
Many people think that Drevmort is just the world's barnhouse, but in fact it's as wild as wild animals go and hunting is one of the people of Drevmort's most appreciated abilities.
Appearance: White-blond hair, icy-blue eyes, taller than most (think 190cm for humans), of the not-buff-but-dry-and-slender fit type. He wears two types of clothes - very tight, elastic (almost spandexy, but matted) black suit and an armour-like battle one. He has many scars on his body from hunting rare animals and beasts in his birthlands.
Personality: Sour, cold, introvert.
Jon is a cold-hearted fellow. Having grown-up in the warmer zones of Drevmort, he excelled in hunting with bow and arrows, dismembering the game with his father's daggers. Once his father got killed by a wild Nerocat, however, he had to look after himself and found a job in the cold North where he hoped to one day find his mother. This, however, never happened and he became sour and more sour with each ear of unsuccessful searching. He later became known as the Wild Slayer from the North Lands. Because he would only hunt the biggest and most dangerous prey... and always win.
Valuable possessions: His hunting daggers, bow and arrow (also hunting), a gemstone ring made of white gold (must I explain how he got it, or can we leave this for IC dialogue?)
Short History of Character:
Sword Power 1:}Extends the bearer's hearing abilities (including sound waves) PASSIVE
Sword Power 2:}With each hit on an enemy with the blunt, flat sides of the blade, the area hit becomes heavier x2. Thus, 10 hits will make a an armour piece weight x1024 (x2,x4,x8,x16,x32,x64,x128,x256,x512,x1024) PASSIVE
Sword Power 3:}The weapon exhausts enourmous stamina from the wielder to call forth the Earth's magma and bring it to the surface where their are fighting in the form of fire-stone rain. The bearer is the only one protected by the same fields which hit everything around. ACTIVE
(I think abilities need to have some limits, like exhaustion, or not hitting something. Having no limitations creates godmodding :P)
Sword appearance:
Interest!
Can I also make a character?
Can I also make a character?
<Snipped quote by JustmeandI>
Wait... Wait... Wait. What just happened?!
It was about the magic performed... What I gathered.
The other things are his hallucinations, sure. Could be long-lost memories etc.It's just in his head.
Ned's head span to the side and the corridor visible from the glass window of the sliding doors. His eyes darted to a heated conversation, hidden behind the walls of the compartment, happening somewhere close, but not right next to it.
"Oh, poor Laura... Lost her shoes again."
'What's happening?'he asked in fear or something close to this feeling.
He jumped and, due to an unknown by then curiosity, opened the compartment door which had slid back closed after the last person used it, and sneaked out of it. The entire hallway was filled with heads and a number of students were arguing. He was moving as thought something was guiding him, but it was not his own will.
"We're ready when you are."
He heard it plain and clear. It was the last word which closed the talk and started the real fight. Were the grown-ups around here allow such things? He couldn't tell. Being the one usually bullied, he knew that the girl, Laura, who was obviously being thrown around needed comfort. However, he knew not who she was and where was she. While he neared the scene, to see if she was still not somewhere between the arms of the Slytherin girls, he stupidly stumbled on one of his shoelaces and fell face-first on the floor, after having first bumped into one of the bullies who accompanied the tall Slytherin. He was out of that trance and the whatever which was guiding him was gone. Now, the worst was coming.
"Oh, poor Laura... Lost her shoes again."
'What's happening?'he asked in fear or something close to this feeling.
He jumped and, due to an unknown by then curiosity, opened the compartment door which had slid back closed after the last person used it, and sneaked out of it. The entire hallway was filled with heads and a number of students were arguing. He was moving as thought something was guiding him, but it was not his own will.
"We're ready when you are."
He heard it plain and clear. It was the last word which closed the talk and started the real fight. Were the grown-ups around here allow such things? He couldn't tell. Being the one usually bullied, he knew that the girl, Laura, who was obviously being thrown around needed comfort. However, he knew not who she was and where was she. While he neared the scene, to see if she was still not somewhere between the arms of the Slytherin girls, he stupidly stumbled on one of his shoelaces and fell face-first on the floor, after having first bumped into one of the bullies who accompanied the tall Slytherin. He was out of that trance and the whatever which was guiding him was gone. Now, the worst was coming.
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