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    1. Klaudus 10 yrs ago

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17 • M • London I like roleplaying, but I really don't have the time for tabletop anymore, so I'm trying a new medium.

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(( Given that most of the cast have enjoyed the first night of the roleplay, I'm fast forwarding to dawn. Feel free to pick up the story with your characters waking up or going about their morning duties. )) The cockerel sang its crooked melody, waking those in bed, and disturbing those already working. As the feathered creature silenced itself, the Governor General exited his home, looking out upon the green and brown land that New Bayheath had been built upon. Taking in a deep breath, the Governor General made his way towards The Circle, his guards tailing him all the way. As he passed members of the colony, they greeted him with genial smiles and raised brows, always at pleasure to say 'hello'. "They are a good lot, these men" remarked the Governor to one of his guards, who only grunted in agreement as he finally approached the circular stage at the centre of the colony. As he stood, a guard took out a wide copper bell, ringing it loudly by flailing his arm. As the crowd gathered, the Governor was unsure as to whether he ought to tell them of what the scout had spotted last night. On one hand, it might be a useful piece to rally his men into action, while conversely, it could strike fear into their hearts. The colony had not yet gathered, and so the Governor was given some time to make up his mind as the bell continued to ring.
Very interested in this, I need to go through my iTunes to find a good stand name now.
The glazed men of the mead hall did nothing but cheer at the sudden row between Ignaescious and Tristan, thinking it nothing more than a harmless bar fight. The music twiddled on as it had before, the crowds returning to their own conversations. Elsewhere... The jungle just outside the colony's perimeter shivered as a swift breeze shook its leaves, gaining the attention of the scout in Samuel's Tower. Quickly drawing his spyglass from his hip, the young man scanned the forest perimeter quickly at first, before giving it a second glance, this time running his eye along the wall of thick flora slowly. The scout stopped half way through the action, paralysed by fear as his gaze locked with that of someone in the bushes. A single pale face looked back through the lense of the spyglass, its eyes black like charcoal, and its features similar to a human's, but off by small degrees, enough to make its visage disturbing. In a blink, it retreated, back into the jungle. A second after the creature had left, the scout fell backwards and breathed shuddering, panicked breaths.
Standing slowly, the Governor General rubbed the back of his neck, the knot in his muscle a sign that this chair was ill made, and would need to be replaced eventually. Yet the colony had concerns that outshone the need for comfortable furniture, and either way, now was not the time to deal with such matters. A few seconds after the Governor had stood, the crowd quieted, as more and more of his colonists realised that he was to address them. His ability to silence a room of rowdy drunks by simply standing was just one example of the respect he commanded from his men. The Governor General was a fair man, liked by all for his stoic leadership that had made this colony a success, whereas the original Bayheath had failed. Once all had shushed, the Governor spoke. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time for me to retire for the night, but I have throughly enjoyed this evening of celebration, and I hope that you have as well. I would however remind you all, that there is still a great deal of work to be done. Tomorrow, I expect you all to rise bright and early, a colony does not flourish when its men and women sleep until noon. But for now, rest easy. Goodnight" he said in a fatherly tone, hands held behind his back. Shortly after his speech, the Governor, escorted by his guards, left through a back exit, disappearing into the night.
I like it, mark me down as interested.
As the alien foe herded crowds of civilians into their fantastical ships, a small pang of morality echoed throughout Masa. Typically he'd leave people to their own devices, after all, he was no hero. All the same, he couldn't let the invaders steal away with these people. At that moment, Masa climbed back onto his bike, revving it once and sending it into a magnificent charge, headed straight for the alien ship. As his vehicle roared closer, the aliens had finished their business, and the spacecraft had begun its slow ascent. Knowing that there was no longer any chance of boarding it from the ground, Masa focused his mind and moved to stand on the bike's seat, arms held perpendicular to his body to retain balance. Just feet from the open back of the spacecraft, Masa's bike had begun to lose its control, and wobbled from side to side as it continued forward. Knowing time was short, Masa summoned Locomotive Breath, whose sudden and powerful kick downwards skyrocketed Masa high enough to grasp the edge of the alien carrier, while at the same time destroying Masa's motorcycle. With his guardian's strength, Masa was able to slowly stand up, prepared to face the crew of the spacecraft as it soared through the cityscape.
The Governor General eyed Tristan briefly, chuckling lightly as the noble climbed onto a table and cheered, much to the huzzah of the crowd. After that lapse in focus, the Governor General's weary eyes once more landed on the Red Coat. The aged leader listened dutifully and sincerely, suggesting that despite the location, he was paying absolute attention to the suggestions of the mercenary. Once the man Jack had concluded his proposal, the Governor General took a small sip from his cup, licking his dry lips curtly. "What you suggest is very reasonable" he responded, his eyes looking over the hall for a moment before catching Jack's own gaze again. "You represent a powerful faction in this colony, and thus, I shall bid one of my guards fetch you should I ever need council regarding the position New Bayheath takes. In regards to the issue of more men, well, more are always welcome, the only real issue is whether or not we can afford to keep them. We've a few houses spare, but you are right, we need to expand, and soon. Our cartographer is currently working on drafting a plan, but until then, I say keep up the good work. Let us discuss this in the morning, enjoy yourself, Captain" the man finished, clapping the mercenary on the shoulder, giving him a jovial shake.
The Governor General's eyes flicked down at the man who now appeared before him. Sullam's red and silver armour contrasted him starkly against the grubby habits of the peasants who populated the tables. Setting down his cup, the Governor General crossed one leg over the other, leaning on one elbow. "It's quite a show isn't it?" he asked, his voice loud so that he might be heard over the festivities, but strangely withheld, as though refraining from expressing emotion. "You're of that company we've hired, the err.. Heavens, how have I forgotten.." he said, bringing a finger to his bottom lip in thought. Then it dawned on him. Snapping a finger, he raises his hand in the air as a gesture of realisation. "The Red Coats!" he exclaimed with a grin, noting how foolish it was of him to forget, given that Sullam's uniform provided an obvious clue.
Cory, in response to Mary's biting sarcasm, said nothing, only issuing her a cursory glance to make sure she was who he had thought she was. It had been difficult remembering the names of his new "friends", if that's even what these people were or would become. There was Kanoa, easy enough to remember, sounds like canoe and is quite unique. Plus, the gregarious girl was also the club's leader, so remembering her name was his priority. His gaze turned to look at Raven, squinting a little to make out the intricacies of her outfit as she flew too and fro on the swingset. It wasn't that difficult for Cory to remember her name either: Ravens are black, and Raven wears black. After his momentary lapse in focus, Cory returned his attention to the group as Kanoa began to speak. Talk of shapeshifters caused cory to quirk a brow and subtly check the expressions of the rest of the group. It all seemed a little, extraordinary to Cory. Sure, he could create voids of space, but surely that could be explained by a scientist. Perhaps it had something to do with dark matter, or rifts in space time, whatever the case, Cory was convinced that his power was more mundane than the ability to shapeshift. Nevertheless, he retained his silence, hands tucked into his jacket pockets as he listened to the group natter away.
The atmosphere in the mead hall is one of triumph and fraternity, as men hold each other close by their sides and swing, singing old songs in celebration of the successful harvest. Dwarves, elves, and humans alike forgive past grudges and racial differences to rejoice on this evening, knowing in the back of their minds that come dawn they will all have to return to the drudgery of work. As the mead flows from keg after keg the crowd begin to clap as a small dwarven band commandeer a table as their stage. They begin a melody which all enjoy, despite the lyrics being dwarvish and difficult for the men and elves to understand. At the far end of the mead hall, on an elevated platform sits the Governor General with his loyal guard standing vigil behind him. He sips from a wooden cup and smiles as one of the band members slips off the table, causing an uproar of laughter that just about shakes the foundations of the building.
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