Snipped.
Lord Wraith
Member
Actually Three Otters in a Trenchcoat
STATUS: I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me. 1 mo ago
- Last Seen: 9 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Lord Wraith
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 8459 (2.14 / day)
- VMs: 6
-
Username history
- Lord Wraith 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
HeMandaddy,
Half Pint,
Melissa,
Festive,
Supermaxx,
Sep,
Hound55,
Ezekiel,
swordmasc,
Number One
Status
Recent Statuses
1 mo ago
Current
I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me.
4
likes
5 mos ago
But can the Ghost Note see why kids love the great taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?
2
likes
6 mos ago
Have you tried finding the Avatar?
9
likes
7 mos ago
When you manage to snag post 69 in the IC. Nice.
7
likes
7 mos ago
When a group of players click and the posts keep roling in, that's what GM dreams are made of.
9
likes
Bio
L O R D W R A I T H
L O R D W R A I T H
L O R D W R A I T H
"TBD"
U S E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________U S E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ U S E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________U S E R S U M M A R Y Lord Wraith _________________________________________________________ February 21st | 31 | Caucasian _________________________________________________________ Married | ♂ | Heterosexual _________________________________________________________ Ontario | Canada P R E F E R E N C E S P R E F E R E N C E S C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S C U R R E N T R O L E P L A Y S | A B O U T M E A B O U T M E All systems go. Back to writing. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus at mi mi. In imperdiet porta dolor, at fermentum nulla commodo eu. Suspendisse volutpat et ex tempor suscipit. Nullam tincidunt at nunc vel auctor. Donec venenatis, nisl nec fringilla varius, massa quam porttitor turpis, sed bibendum purus sem id risus. Nullam scelerisque lectus eget diam gravida malesuada. Maecenas consectetur est ac sollicitudin congue. Maecenas interdum erat dignissim lectus sodales, nec ultrices neque egestas. Integer convallis lacus at consequat volutpat. |
Most Recent Posts
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
![]()
D A N N Y P H A N T O M
"Witty Quote"
D A N I E L F E N T O N ♦ C O L L E G E S T U D E N T ♦ P O R T L A N D, O R E G O N
O R I G I N S:
Young Danny Fenton, he was just eighteen,
When his parents built a very strange machine.
It was designed to view, a world unseen.
When it didn't quite work, his folks, they just quit,
But then Danny took a look inside of it,
There was a great big flash, everything just changed,
His molecules got all rearranged!
When he first woke up, he realized,
He had snow white hair, and glowin' green eyes.
He could walk through walls, disappear, and fly,
He was much more unique than the other guys.
And it was then that he knew what he had to do,
He had to stop all the ghosts that were comin' through,
When his parents built a very strange machine.
It was designed to view, a world unseen.
When it didn't quite work, his folks, they just quit,
But then Danny took a look inside of it,
There was a great big flash, everything just changed,
His molecules got all rearranged!
When he first woke up, he realized,
He had snow white hair, and glowin' green eyes.
He could walk through walls, disappear, and fly,
He was much more unique than the other guys.
And it was then that he knew what he had to do,
He had to stop all the ghosts that were comin' through,
S A M P L E P O S T:
"For the last time, I have no affiliation with that hack, Venkman!"
Jack Fenton roared into the phone before ending the call with an aggressive press of his thumb. He sat back and massaged his temples. That had been the third phone call this afternoon alone. He knew it’d be coming after what happened in New York nearly forty years ago. They shut Venkman down, discredited his and his colleagues’ work, and swept everything under the rug.
But Jack remembered.
It had inspired his work and between him, his now wife and his college roommate, the three had gone on to create the proto-portal that inspired his now complete ‘Fenton Portal’, a gateway to the ‘ghost zone’ and the object of his tele-harassment. His initial attempts to power the device had failed, but that didn’t stop this shady government organization from wanting to acquire it.
Looking up from his mobile device, Jack put away his gloomy expression and forced a smile onto his face before he addressed his wife and children.
"Sorry, Madds. I didn't mean to disrupt this dinner you worked so hard on, no more phone calls for me today" the burly man[color=#ffffff] [/color]apologized before turning to his eldest. "How were your classes today, Jazz?”
“Dad, you and I both know you don’t care about my classes,” Jasmine ‘Jazz’ Fenton replied dryly, pushing a few loose strands of her red hair out of her face and tucking them neatly back into the teal headband she wore.
“You’re just probing to see if I saw any ghosts,” Jazz rolled her eyes, “No, Dad, unfortunately for you, my classes were painfully mundane.”
“Jazz, that might have been the case today. But I’ve been looking over maps of Portland for the past decade, and I’m very confident that your school sits on a Hellmouth.” Jack explained excitedly, “If anywhere in Portland is haunted, it’s Reed College.”
“Whatever you say, Dad,” Jazz smiled before picking away at her dinner. Jack had struggled to connect with Jazz since she had graduated high school two years ago. Jasmine being accepted into Reed was a point of pride for both of her parents, but Jazz had quickly outgrown Jack and Maddie Fenton and their ‘sick obsession with ghosts’ as she so mildly put it.
“Danny!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, pivoting the conversation toward his youngest, “I was wondering if you could help your old man tonight with powering up the portal, would love to see if I can get it running.”
“Uh yeah, sure, Dad.” Danny replied reluctantly, “I suppose I can do that.” His fork rolled a few loose peas around on his plate before Danny let out a small sigh.
“Not like I had plans anyway.”
A college freshman, Danny hadn’t exactly been an overachiever nor a popular student in high school. His grades were painfully average, his extracurriculars non-existent, and he had to live in the shadow of his popular sister who seemed to excel at everything she put her mind to.
If anything, Danny knew more about what the inside of a locker looked like, than he did the inside of a classroom.
“How about you, Jazz?” Jack asked, “Want to spend some time with the family?”
“Sorry, Dad,” Jazz replied coolly, “As tempting as that is, I have a date.”
“A date?” Maddie spoke up, “Will he be coming here to pick you up?”
“Ha,” Jazz laughed sarcastically, enthusiastically shaking her head, “No, no he will not. I’m meeting him at the library.”
“Oooh a study date,” Danny waved his hands, “Sounds hot, making out between the bookshelves, being shushed by the librarian.”
“Daniel,” Jack scolded, “That’s enough.” He stated before turning to Jazz, “If any boy is going to be taking my daughter out, I need to meet him.”
“He’s a man, Dad, and it’s just a first date, he doesn’t need that kind of pressure.”
“At least give us a name,” Maddie pried, “Just for safety at the very least,”
“His name is Angel,” Jazz replied before Danny burst out laughing.
“It’s a very common name in South America, Danny!” Jazz snapped. “You’d know that if you were more like Angel, He’s a very cultured man, unlike you.”
“I hope we get to meet him, Jazz.” Maddie smiled as Jazz stood from the table.
“Yeah, fat chance of that.”
Jack Fenton roared into the phone before ending the call with an aggressive press of his thumb. He sat back and massaged his temples. That had been the third phone call this afternoon alone. He knew it’d be coming after what happened in New York nearly forty years ago. They shut Venkman down, discredited his and his colleagues’ work, and swept everything under the rug.
But Jack remembered.
It had inspired his work and between him, his now wife and his college roommate, the three had gone on to create the proto-portal that inspired his now complete ‘Fenton Portal’, a gateway to the ‘ghost zone’ and the object of his tele-harassment. His initial attempts to power the device had failed, but that didn’t stop this shady government organization from wanting to acquire it.
Looking up from his mobile device, Jack put away his gloomy expression and forced a smile onto his face before he addressed his wife and children.
"Sorry, Madds. I didn't mean to disrupt this dinner you worked so hard on, no more phone calls for me today" the burly man[color=#ffffff] [/color]apologized before turning to his eldest. "How were your classes today, Jazz?”
“Dad, you and I both know you don’t care about my classes,” Jasmine ‘Jazz’ Fenton replied dryly, pushing a few loose strands of her red hair out of her face and tucking them neatly back into the teal headband she wore.
“You’re just probing to see if I saw any ghosts,” Jazz rolled her eyes, “No, Dad, unfortunately for you, my classes were painfully mundane.”
“Jazz, that might have been the case today. But I’ve been looking over maps of Portland for the past decade, and I’m very confident that your school sits on a Hellmouth.” Jack explained excitedly, “If anywhere in Portland is haunted, it’s Reed College.”
“Whatever you say, Dad,” Jazz smiled before picking away at her dinner. Jack had struggled to connect with Jazz since she had graduated high school two years ago. Jasmine being accepted into Reed was a point of pride for both of her parents, but Jazz had quickly outgrown Jack and Maddie Fenton and their ‘sick obsession with ghosts’ as she so mildly put it.
“Danny!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, pivoting the conversation toward his youngest, “I was wondering if you could help your old man tonight with powering up the portal, would love to see if I can get it running.”
“Uh yeah, sure, Dad.” Danny replied reluctantly, “I suppose I can do that.” His fork rolled a few loose peas around on his plate before Danny let out a small sigh.
“Not like I had plans anyway.”
A college freshman, Danny hadn’t exactly been an overachiever nor a popular student in high school. His grades were painfully average, his extracurriculars non-existent, and he had to live in the shadow of his popular sister who seemed to excel at everything she put her mind to.
If anything, Danny knew more about what the inside of a locker looked like, than he did the inside of a classroom.
“How about you, Jazz?” Jack asked, “Want to spend some time with the family?”
“Sorry, Dad,” Jazz replied coolly, “As tempting as that is, I have a date.”
“A date?” Maddie spoke up, “Will he be coming here to pick you up?”
“Ha,” Jazz laughed sarcastically, enthusiastically shaking her head, “No, no he will not. I’m meeting him at the library.”
“Oooh a study date,” Danny waved his hands, “Sounds hot, making out between the bookshelves, being shushed by the librarian.”
“Daniel,” Jack scolded, “That’s enough.” He stated before turning to Jazz, “If any boy is going to be taking my daughter out, I need to meet him.”
“He’s a man, Dad, and it’s just a first date, he doesn’t need that kind of pressure.”
“At least give us a name,” Maddie pried, “Just for safety at the very least,”
“His name is Angel,” Jazz replied before Danny burst out laughing.
“It’s a very common name in South America, Danny!” Jazz snapped. “You’d know that if you were more like Angel, He’s a very cultured man, unlike you.”
“I hope we get to meet him, Jazz.” Maddie smiled as Jazz stood from the table.
“Yeah, fat chance of that.”
P O S T C A T A L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.045: All By Yourself
Interaction(s): @Hound55 - Andrew Olyphant
Previously: Dancing's Not a Crime
Beelining for the bar the second he had entered the A.R.C., Cassander checked his phone for messages, seeing one from Harper before double checking to make sure he hadn’t heard from Lorcán. His cousin was better at the ‘cutesy’ stuff, even if he couldn’t, as Cass’ sister would say ‘COM-MUN-I-CATE’.
A drink was exactly what he needed to calm his nerves, signaling the student behind the bar for a beer as he leaned over the rail and took a long swing from the bottle he was handed. It wasn’t anything top shelf, but it had alcohol and that’s exactly what he needed to get through the night.
His palms were sweaty and clammy. He had no idea why he was so honestly nervous, it had been easier to talk to Harper before there was any pressure on. Now he felt like he had to be something he wasn’t, he had to be ‘sweet’ and ‘kind’ when honestly he’d rather banter with the girl. That’s what had made him feel sparks the first time. Now he was just worried about obligations that probably didn’t exist.
It was just a dance, not a marriage proposal.
Aurora had been kind enough to send a corsage for Harper to Cass’ dorm. He had followed her instructions on the note to a tee. The small package carefully and firmly gripped in his other hand while he twirled the bottle around, slowly removing the label before a pair of familiar voices drew his attention from the vessel in front of him.
Cassander turned to watch the scene between Banjo and Chad unfold. He really didn’t understand where Banjo of all people got off intervening on Aurora’s behalf, Cass had never gotten the impression the pair shared any sort of camaraderie, and he knew full well that Lorcán didn’t exactly share the ‘warm fuzzies’ for ‘Benny’. Invested in the outcome, Cass took another sip from his drink, waiting until the latter between Banjo and Chad had walked away before making himself known with a loud, slow clap.
“Great job, Didgeri-Drew, I bet Patterson’s really going to go home and think about his life choices now.” Cassander took a swig from the bottle in front of him before tipping it in the direction that Chad had left in. “You were so close to making a point too, until you had to go and spill the drink. Couldn’t help yourself could you, you might have even helped someone, but no, that’s not what you actually do is it.”
Taking a step closer, the broader young man leaned on the bar rail before taking another, slow, savoured sip in front of Banjo.
“"I know your special lady friend has been gone for about all of five minutes, and when the loneliness strikes, you really got find someone to cure it. But really? Moving onto Aurora of all people?” Cass rolled his eyes, Lorcán apparently had terrible timing for deciding to realize his feelings for Aurora. Seemed every guy on campus wanted the redhead these days.
“Now before you spill my drink on me, I just thought you should know I'm here with Harper,” Cass confessed sarcastically, “Do you have a big brother lecture for me or is it just Rora you're attached to? No don't say anything, I frankly don't want to hear you speak anyways,”
Pushing off from the bar, Cassander stood up, placing the empty bottle down on the barrail before stepping away, pausing as he shot a last remark back at Banjo.
“Maybe if you play your cards right, Rory will fumble with Haven and you can take a shot there.” He snarked before his nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Presuming any of these women can get past the smell."
Moving through the crowd, Cassander scanned above the sea of students for the familiar flowing locks and fiery eyes that belonged to exactly one student. To no one’s surprise, he found them talking to Aurora before her ‘charming’ date re-injected himself to the conversation and whisked her away before any second thoughts could set in.
Walking up behind Lorcán, Cass watched his younger cousin’s hand curl into a fist while he stared after Aurora as Chad hurriedly escorted her away. Clearing his throat, Cass took another sip before finally speaking.
“What a perfect asshole.”
A drink was exactly what he needed to calm his nerves, signaling the student behind the bar for a beer as he leaned over the rail and took a long swing from the bottle he was handed. It wasn’t anything top shelf, but it had alcohol and that’s exactly what he needed to get through the night.
His palms were sweaty and clammy. He had no idea why he was so honestly nervous, it had been easier to talk to Harper before there was any pressure on. Now he felt like he had to be something he wasn’t, he had to be ‘sweet’ and ‘kind’ when honestly he’d rather banter with the girl. That’s what had made him feel sparks the first time. Now he was just worried about obligations that probably didn’t exist.
It was just a dance, not a marriage proposal.
Aurora had been kind enough to send a corsage for Harper to Cass’ dorm. He had followed her instructions on the note to a tee. The small package carefully and firmly gripped in his other hand while he twirled the bottle around, slowly removing the label before a pair of familiar voices drew his attention from the vessel in front of him.
Cassander turned to watch the scene between Banjo and Chad unfold. He really didn’t understand where Banjo of all people got off intervening on Aurora’s behalf, Cass had never gotten the impression the pair shared any sort of camaraderie, and he knew full well that Lorcán didn’t exactly share the ‘warm fuzzies’ for ‘Benny’. Invested in the outcome, Cass took another sip from his drink, waiting until the latter between Banjo and Chad had walked away before making himself known with a loud, slow clap.
“Great job, Didgeri-Drew, I bet Patterson’s really going to go home and think about his life choices now.” Cassander took a swig from the bottle in front of him before tipping it in the direction that Chad had left in. “You were so close to making a point too, until you had to go and spill the drink. Couldn’t help yourself could you, you might have even helped someone, but no, that’s not what you actually do is it.”
Taking a step closer, the broader young man leaned on the bar rail before taking another, slow, savoured sip in front of Banjo.
“"I know your special lady friend has been gone for about all of five minutes, and when the loneliness strikes, you really got find someone to cure it. But really? Moving onto Aurora of all people?” Cass rolled his eyes, Lorcán apparently had terrible timing for deciding to realize his feelings for Aurora. Seemed every guy on campus wanted the redhead these days.
“Now before you spill my drink on me, I just thought you should know I'm here with Harper,” Cass confessed sarcastically, “Do you have a big brother lecture for me or is it just Rora you're attached to? No don't say anything, I frankly don't want to hear you speak anyways,”
Pushing off from the bar, Cassander stood up, placing the empty bottle down on the barrail before stepping away, pausing as he shot a last remark back at Banjo.
“Maybe if you play your cards right, Rory will fumble with Haven and you can take a shot there.” He snarked before his nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Presuming any of these women can get past the smell."
Moving through the crowd, Cassander scanned above the sea of students for the familiar flowing locks and fiery eyes that belonged to exactly one student. To no one’s surprise, he found them talking to Aurora before her ‘charming’ date re-injected himself to the conversation and whisked her away before any second thoughts could set in.
Walking up behind Lorcán, Cass watched his younger cousin’s hand curl into a fist while he stared after Aurora as Chad hurriedly escorted her away. Clearing his throat, Cass took another sip before finally speaking.
“What a perfect asshole.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.042: Dance, Dance
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Bleed Into Me
Loud music spilled out of the A.R.C. as the senior class arrived at the Hollywood themed affair. A red carpet had been laid out along the pathway, lined with gold posts connected by matching velour rope. Given the tumultuous start to the semester, it was appreciated not only by the student body, but the faculty as well that the night was off to a start without a single hiccup or mishap.
No one had hijacked the event, there weren’t students brawling out front. The sky was clear and full of stars without a cloud in the sky and while the entire night had been because of the Foundation’s meddling, it was just what the senior student body needed to blow off some steam and cut loose.
For once, the Foundation had presented a boon to P.R.C.U. that have an ulterior motive.
The interior of the A.R.C. had been decorated in a strong contrast of black, white and red while gold accents brought the decor to life. The students had done their best to capture the classic Hollywood aesthetic and transport the senior class from the present into the roaring twenties.
Centerpieces adorned with white decorative feathers brought the tables on either side of the dance floor to life, offering a splash of life above the dark table clothes and their blood red runners. The round tables with six seats sat between the tiled black and white marble floor and the buffet tables lined with finger foods and punch bowls. All manner of food and hors d'oeuvres dotted the white rectangular tables while several different bowls of punch were strategically placed near the end of each.
Above the dance floor, the brass railing of the mezzanine looked down, students eagerly climbing the stairs to reach the bar above where certified juniors were eagerly serving up various coolers, beers and cocktails with the additional bottle of wine.
At the far end of the dance floor stood a band, entirely made of simulated hardlight. Dressed in matching white tuxedos, their instruments shifted between songs depending on the next tune and the project musicians enthusiastically played and belted out each melody as it came.
“Congratulations, Chancellor,” Miranda complimented looking around the scene before her. “You’ve pulled on your first themed dance, hopefully one of many.”
“Oh, well as long as the students are happy, it's a bit too much commotion for me,” Jim smiled wryly, adjusting the bolo tie around his neck.
“Come,” Miranda instructed, “I think this calls for a celebratory drink, hopefully to the first of many joint ventures.”
“Eh, I’ll drink to that,” Jim relented and followed Miranda as the pair moved through the bustling crowd of students towards the balcony bar.
Looking back behind him, Jim hid a small smile.
It was nice to see things go right for once.
No one had hijacked the event, there weren’t students brawling out front. The sky was clear and full of stars without a cloud in the sky and while the entire night had been because of the Foundation’s meddling, it was just what the senior student body needed to blow off some steam and cut loose.
For once, the Foundation had presented a boon to P.R.C.U. that have an ulterior motive.
The interior of the A.R.C. had been decorated in a strong contrast of black, white and red while gold accents brought the decor to life. The students had done their best to capture the classic Hollywood aesthetic and transport the senior class from the present into the roaring twenties.
Centerpieces adorned with white decorative feathers brought the tables on either side of the dance floor to life, offering a splash of life above the dark table clothes and their blood red runners. The round tables with six seats sat between the tiled black and white marble floor and the buffet tables lined with finger foods and punch bowls. All manner of food and hors d'oeuvres dotted the white rectangular tables while several different bowls of punch were strategically placed near the end of each.
Above the dance floor, the brass railing of the mezzanine looked down, students eagerly climbing the stairs to reach the bar above where certified juniors were eagerly serving up various coolers, beers and cocktails with the additional bottle of wine.
At the far end of the dance floor stood a band, entirely made of simulated hardlight. Dressed in matching white tuxedos, their instruments shifted between songs depending on the next tune and the project musicians enthusiastically played and belted out each melody as it came.
“Congratulations, Chancellor,” Miranda complimented looking around the scene before her. “You’ve pulled on your first themed dance, hopefully one of many.”
“Oh, well as long as the students are happy, it's a bit too much commotion for me,” Jim smiled wryly, adjusting the bolo tie around his neck.
“Come,” Miranda instructed, “I think this calls for a celebratory drink, hopefully to the first of many joint ventures.”
“Eh, I’ll drink to that,” Jim relented and followed Miranda as the pair moved through the bustling crowd of students towards the balcony bar.
Looking back behind him, Jim hid a small smile.
It was nice to see things go right for once.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Alexandria Foundation - Atlantic Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.039: Bleed Into Me
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Welcome to the Masquerade
The needle was cold as it went into the back of her neck.
But Summer had learned not to flinch.
The restraints around her wrist chafed against her skin, irritating existing abrasions. She could feel her mind beginning to expand, seeking out those beyond this compound. A mother in New York, plagued by guilt for leaving her child to go to work. A teenager in Wyoming, weighed down by the constant cravings for another hit of methamphetamines. An officer in San Francisco still burdened by the murder that cost Makaio Tawhiri his life.
And then, there was the campus. The island to the North West filled with many young persons of mass destruction.
But today Daedalus’ obsession bore on one. The winged one who was currently drowning any memories of him beneath a steady diet of alcohol. Daedalus smiled wickedly at the read out of Summer’s brain, blood beginning to drip from her nostril from the strain. A momentary scold was followed by another frigid prick as he released a new drop of her into Summer.
Her pupils dilated with the surge and soon she was viewing those who remained of their other experiment. They were content for the time being, the burden of truth lifted from their minds. And then there was the one who had come to her for help all those years ago, now frustrated and pent up, abandoned and alone.
She could have sealed his pain, made him forget the ones who left. But that was not Daedalus’ plan, and Summer’s will was of little power.
And then she sensed her, the one who got away.
Daedalus began to practically foam at the mouth as Summer’s mind touched the fractured one, web of memories disjointed and separated from one another. Her abilities were redundant in a mind so fragmented.
“I want them both back.” Daedalus finally fumed, breaking the silence. Summer felt pain travel through her skull, like a blast of lightning before it sent her spine rigid. Another prick in her neck and her eyes snapped open again. More blood spilling from her nose as some many different sensations shot through her body.
She felt her power in places she never expected, it wasn’t hard to understand why Daedalus was obsessed with her. The rawness, it far exceeded even what she had felt as a teenager standing beside Vanessa Bordeaux.
Summer missed her friend.
A rare, raw, human thought managed to bubble through. A thought from before Summer had become a plaything for megalomaniacs and psychopaths. Delirium was setting in now and Summer could barely hold a connection. Daedalus knew better than to waste a dose at this point and Summer was allowed to sleep.
But not before she saw Daedalus approach another.
A horrific screech filled the room and then, everything went black.
But Summer had learned not to flinch.
The restraints around her wrist chafed against her skin, irritating existing abrasions. She could feel her mind beginning to expand, seeking out those beyond this compound. A mother in New York, plagued by guilt for leaving her child to go to work. A teenager in Wyoming, weighed down by the constant cravings for another hit of methamphetamines. An officer in San Francisco still burdened by the murder that cost Makaio Tawhiri his life.
And then, there was the campus. The island to the North West filled with many young persons of mass destruction.
But today Daedalus’ obsession bore on one. The winged one who was currently drowning any memories of him beneath a steady diet of alcohol. Daedalus smiled wickedly at the read out of Summer’s brain, blood beginning to drip from her nostril from the strain. A momentary scold was followed by another frigid prick as he released a new drop of her into Summer.
Her pupils dilated with the surge and soon she was viewing those who remained of their other experiment. They were content for the time being, the burden of truth lifted from their minds. And then there was the one who had come to her for help all those years ago, now frustrated and pent up, abandoned and alone.
She could have sealed his pain, made him forget the ones who left. But that was not Daedalus’ plan, and Summer’s will was of little power.
And then she sensed her, the one who got away.
Daedalus began to practically foam at the mouth as Summer’s mind touched the fractured one, web of memories disjointed and separated from one another. Her abilities were redundant in a mind so fragmented.
“I want them both back.” Daedalus finally fumed, breaking the silence. Summer felt pain travel through her skull, like a blast of lightning before it sent her spine rigid. Another prick in her neck and her eyes snapped open again. More blood spilling from her nose as some many different sensations shot through her body.
She felt her power in places she never expected, it wasn’t hard to understand why Daedalus was obsessed with her. The rawness, it far exceeded even what she had felt as a teenager standing beside Vanessa Bordeaux.
Summer missed her friend.
A rare, raw, human thought managed to bubble through. A thought from before Summer had become a plaything for megalomaniacs and psychopaths. Delirium was setting in now and Summer could barely hold a connection. Daedalus knew better than to waste a dose at this point and Summer was allowed to sleep.
But not before she saw Daedalus approach another.
A horrific screech filled the room and then, everything went black.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Pacific Royal Campus Beach - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.037: Dancing's Not a Crime
Interaction(s): Gil Galahad - @Roman, Aurora Mitchell - @MelissaIndirectly
Previously: Far Too Young to Die
The campus seemed a little brighter as Lorcán merrily made his way across, feeling lighter and more free than he had only hours ago. The crisp September wind only further accented the heat of the late summer sun as it held its own against the changing of the season. He jumped up on a nearby curve, quickly balancing along the beam before leaping into a spin and landing on the nearby path again.
His erratic movements drew a few stray eyes, but Lorcán heeded them no regard, whistling a tune as he went. He spun around a nearby lamp post, clicking his heels together, no longer worried about the damp clothing he was in or the mess of hair atop his head. Miranda had unlocked his memories, helped him realize what he had only dared hope before.
Aurora Mitchell loved him.
Despite all the troubles of late, despite the obstacles that kept them apart, the miscommunication, the poor timing, despite it all.
Aurora Mitchell loved Lorcán Roth.
The words rang out in his mind clear as day, the fog and otherworldly oppression cleared, gone and obliterated thanks to Miranda’s assistance. The weight of guilt and shame lifted, his soul light as a feather and all he wanted to do was soar through skies as Haven was so enviably capable of.
He needed to see Aurora right now, he needed to climb the Administration building, he needed to shout from the rooftops.
Lorcán Roth loved Aurora Mitchell.
Except.
Except that she would hate that. Even Lorcán knew that Aurora, his Lady Dude, did not like public display of affection, let alone mass spectacles. Even if his chest was fit to burst at any second, even if he wanted to run laps around campus in sheer joy, he knew he needed to wait until they had a moment together, something private and intimate.
Something that was just the two of them.
A dumb grin set across his face, as Lorcán suddenly sprung onto his hands, cartwheeling before using his abilities to boost himself into a handspring and backflip. His display was followed by more gawking, but Lorcán didn’t have a care in the world as his wavy mane was lifted by the cool breeze. His molten-coloured eyes stared into the distance, focusing on the Myotis dorms, locking onto the balcony in front of Aurora’s dorm.
He could have jetted the distance, scaled the balcony and burst through. But Aurora had a date tonight, and it wasn’t his place to ruin it for her. It wasn’t his place to intervene but perhaps, perhaps she could save him the last dance of the night. He had waited this long, what was a few hours more? Lorcán owed Aurora at least that, it wasn’t about him or his epiphanies, it was about both of them and Aurora had accepted another young man’s invitation.
Lorcán wasn’t about to meddle, no matter who that mystery man was.
Letting out a small ‘whoop’ Lorcán sprung forward, front flipping into a slight jog before jumping off another lamp post and nearly colliding with a familiar face. His fiery eyes came into focus, before he tumbled on top of Gil, the pair colliding with the pavement beneath them as Lorcán came to rest atop the other boy, cans sent rolling in all directions as some nearby bystanders let out a couple catcalls while Lorcán was laid out atop Gil’s chest.
“S’pose I should at least offer to buy you dinner first, bro,” Lorcán mumbled, dusting himself up before extending a hand to Gil, “Where are you headed loaded up with the brewskis?”
“...to come and meet you. And Rory. And Banjo, I suppose, though I'm not sure how to reach him with Calliope off-island...” Gil replied, taking Lorcán’s hand before the pair picked up the scattered drinks together. “It's the dance tonight. Did you forget we were supposed to get ready and pre-game? I messaged you to let you know I was on the way over.”
“Dude, I haven’t had my phone for like the last twelve hours, it was dead when I got home and I totally forgot to grab it.” Lorcán replied with a laugh, “It’s totally going to blow up when I finally turn it back on.” The laid back young man looked Gil over, his jaw was clenched, he was clearly agitated but even Lorcán suspected that it was more than just being carelessly knocked to the ground.
“You choka, dude?” The younger man asked, “You look about as tight as a sail in the wind, ready to tear at any second.”
“I'm fine." Gil said, reflexively evading the probe. He paused, then sighed. No point in trying to hide it - the news would get out eventually. Besides, where was that new-found honesty? "I...I quit acting. Artie didn't take it well when I told him. It's unpleasant to effectively fire an old friend." Gil’s honest response caught Lorcán off guard before he offered some sympathy to his friend.
“Dude, that blows chunks, man, I’m sorry it went down that way,” Lorcán replied before putting an arm around Gil and leading him towards the Canis dorms. “No wonder you want to get lit tonight, I’m really looking forward to it.” He nodded enthusiastically.
“Provided they play some good music anyways, need something I can move to,” Lorcán smiled before pulling away from Gil and swaying to an imaginary beat only to immediately trip on his own feet.
“I think you'd better stick to some standstill bob'n'sway.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lorcán replied dismissively, “Look, I get the last few days have sucked, but I really do think that tonight will be a good night.” He continued, swiping his student card in the door before opening the Canis dorms and holding it open for Gil.
Gil lifted a beer in salute before opening the can and taking an impressive pull.
"One way or another." He replied, letting Lorcán lead him inside. A mischievous smile crossed the latter’s face, as sparks appeared in his molten-coloured eyes.
“‘Cause I’ve got a feelin’!” He suddenly sang. “That tonight’s gonna be a good night, that tonight’s gonna be a-” He suddenly cartwheeled again, nearly wiping out as the mat slipped under his hands.
“Good, good night!” Lorcán called back off-key, steadying himself again before he ran a couple steps ahead of Gil. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Gil shake his head at his antics, a small smile cracking on the other young man’s face before they eventually approached the door to Rory and Lorcán’s shared dorm.
“Honey!” Lorcán bellowed upon entering the dorm, “We’re home!” He called out, initially waiting for Rory’s reply before excusing himself to Gil and dipping into his bedroom. It was still in a state of disarray from the turbulent sleep, or lack there of the night before. But Lorcán was able to quickly locate his cellphone on the floor beside his nightstand, the charging cable thankfully still attached.
Booting the device up, Lorcán impatiently waited as the device took what felt like forever to boot up. He had a missed call and a voicemail from Cass, a message from Gil and Rory each in the Wolfpack group chat, Gil of course being an honorary member due to his misfortune of being in House Lynx.
He paused, his heart skipping a beat as Lorcán saw an unread message from Aurora.
Aurora Mitchell loved Lorcán Roth.
Lorcán’s thumb hovered over the call button. He wanted to meet now, he wanted to explain everything to her. He wanted to tell Aurora how he’d been in love with her from the first time their eyes met, how he wanted to kiss her that night on the beach, how he was trying to tell her that Amma saved him, how it had always been Aurora. No one else even came close.
But,
Aurora had a date tonight.
Taking a deep breath, he pressed send before changing his clothes and pocketing his phone again. Turning to rejoin Rory and Gil, something caught Lorcán’s eye that caused him to stop. The object that Jonas had gifted him had rolled out of his pocket from yesterday’s clothing.
Picking it up, Lorcán gave it a reassuring squeeze before feeling the familiar warm pulse. With a small shrug, he tucked it into his pocket and turned to leave his room.
Couldn’t hurt to keep it on him after all.
His erratic movements drew a few stray eyes, but Lorcán heeded them no regard, whistling a tune as he went. He spun around a nearby lamp post, clicking his heels together, no longer worried about the damp clothing he was in or the mess of hair atop his head. Miranda had unlocked his memories, helped him realize what he had only dared hope before.
Aurora Mitchell loved him.
Despite all the troubles of late, despite the obstacles that kept them apart, the miscommunication, the poor timing, despite it all.
Aurora Mitchell loved Lorcán Roth.
The words rang out in his mind clear as day, the fog and otherworldly oppression cleared, gone and obliterated thanks to Miranda’s assistance. The weight of guilt and shame lifted, his soul light as a feather and all he wanted to do was soar through skies as Haven was so enviably capable of.
He needed to see Aurora right now, he needed to climb the Administration building, he needed to shout from the rooftops.
Lorcán Roth loved Aurora Mitchell.
Except.
Except that she would hate that. Even Lorcán knew that Aurora, his Lady Dude, did not like public display of affection, let alone mass spectacles. Even if his chest was fit to burst at any second, even if he wanted to run laps around campus in sheer joy, he knew he needed to wait until they had a moment together, something private and intimate.
Something that was just the two of them.
A dumb grin set across his face, as Lorcán suddenly sprung onto his hands, cartwheeling before using his abilities to boost himself into a handspring and backflip. His display was followed by more gawking, but Lorcán didn’t have a care in the world as his wavy mane was lifted by the cool breeze. His molten-coloured eyes stared into the distance, focusing on the Myotis dorms, locking onto the balcony in front of Aurora’s dorm.
He could have jetted the distance, scaled the balcony and burst through. But Aurora had a date tonight, and it wasn’t his place to ruin it for her. It wasn’t his place to intervene but perhaps, perhaps she could save him the last dance of the night. He had waited this long, what was a few hours more? Lorcán owed Aurora at least that, it wasn’t about him or his epiphanies, it was about both of them and Aurora had accepted another young man’s invitation.
Lorcán wasn’t about to meddle, no matter who that mystery man was.
Letting out a small ‘whoop’ Lorcán sprung forward, front flipping into a slight jog before jumping off another lamp post and nearly colliding with a familiar face. His fiery eyes came into focus, before he tumbled on top of Gil, the pair colliding with the pavement beneath them as Lorcán came to rest atop the other boy, cans sent rolling in all directions as some nearby bystanders let out a couple catcalls while Lorcán was laid out atop Gil’s chest.
“S’pose I should at least offer to buy you dinner first, bro,” Lorcán mumbled, dusting himself up before extending a hand to Gil, “Where are you headed loaded up with the brewskis?”
“...to come and meet you. And Rory. And Banjo, I suppose, though I'm not sure how to reach him with Calliope off-island...” Gil replied, taking Lorcán’s hand before the pair picked up the scattered drinks together. “It's the dance tonight. Did you forget we were supposed to get ready and pre-game? I messaged you to let you know I was on the way over.”
“Dude, I haven’t had my phone for like the last twelve hours, it was dead when I got home and I totally forgot to grab it.” Lorcán replied with a laugh, “It’s totally going to blow up when I finally turn it back on.” The laid back young man looked Gil over, his jaw was clenched, he was clearly agitated but even Lorcán suspected that it was more than just being carelessly knocked to the ground.
“You choka, dude?” The younger man asked, “You look about as tight as a sail in the wind, ready to tear at any second.”
“I'm fine." Gil said, reflexively evading the probe. He paused, then sighed. No point in trying to hide it - the news would get out eventually. Besides, where was that new-found honesty? "I...I quit acting. Artie didn't take it well when I told him. It's unpleasant to effectively fire an old friend." Gil’s honest response caught Lorcán off guard before he offered some sympathy to his friend.
“Dude, that blows chunks, man, I’m sorry it went down that way,” Lorcán replied before putting an arm around Gil and leading him towards the Canis dorms. “No wonder you want to get lit tonight, I’m really looking forward to it.” He nodded enthusiastically.
“Provided they play some good music anyways, need something I can move to,” Lorcán smiled before pulling away from Gil and swaying to an imaginary beat only to immediately trip on his own feet.
“I think you'd better stick to some standstill bob'n'sway.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lorcán replied dismissively, “Look, I get the last few days have sucked, but I really do think that tonight will be a good night.” He continued, swiping his student card in the door before opening the Canis dorms and holding it open for Gil.
Gil lifted a beer in salute before opening the can and taking an impressive pull.
"One way or another." He replied, letting Lorcán lead him inside. A mischievous smile crossed the latter’s face, as sparks appeared in his molten-coloured eyes.
“‘Cause I’ve got a feelin’!” He suddenly sang. “That tonight’s gonna be a good night, that tonight’s gonna be a-” He suddenly cartwheeled again, nearly wiping out as the mat slipped under his hands.
“Good, good night!” Lorcán called back off-key, steadying himself again before he ran a couple steps ahead of Gil. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Gil shake his head at his antics, a small smile cracking on the other young man’s face before they eventually approached the door to Rory and Lorcán’s shared dorm.
“Honey!” Lorcán bellowed upon entering the dorm, “We’re home!” He called out, initially waiting for Rory’s reply before excusing himself to Gil and dipping into his bedroom. It was still in a state of disarray from the turbulent sleep, or lack there of the night before. But Lorcán was able to quickly locate his cellphone on the floor beside his nightstand, the charging cable thankfully still attached.
Booting the device up, Lorcán impatiently waited as the device took what felt like forever to boot up. He had a missed call and a voicemail from Cass, a message from Gil and Rory each in the Wolfpack group chat, Gil of course being an honorary member due to his misfortune of being in House Lynx.
He paused, his heart skipping a beat as Lorcán saw an unread message from Aurora.
AURORA MITCHELL SAID: Hey, I’m so relieved you’re okay. Sorry I ducked out before you woke up 😔 AURORA MITCHELL SAID SAID: Want to talk to you about something… come find me tonight, I’ll save you a dance. |
|---|
Lorcán’s thumb hovered over the call button. He wanted to meet now, he wanted to explain everything to her. He wanted to tell Aurora how he’d been in love with her from the first time their eyes met, how he wanted to kiss her that night on the beach, how he was trying to tell her that Amma saved him, how it had always been Aurora. No one else even came close.
But,
Aurora had a date tonight.
YOU SAID: I def want to talk to you too, I missed you the last couple of days. :Save me that dance, I’ll def be cashing in, Lady Dude! |
|---|
Picking it up, Lorcán gave it a reassuring squeeze before feeling the familiar warm pulse. With a small shrug, he tucked it into his pocket and turned to leave his room.
Couldn’t hurt to keep it on him after all.
In
Looking for New Players - Commencement: A Pacific Royal Collegiate & University Roleplay
→
3 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Unfortunately, we are full at this time. But if any spots open up again, I'll be sure to update this thread.
The whistle of an old black train echoed through the fields on either side of the old rail tracks, breaking the stillness of the empty night. The moon illuminated the vast, rolling hills before the clouds chasing the train rolled across the night sky, suffocating the pale light. Winds whipped and hollered, drowning the chirping crickets and eerie calls of wild dogs and coyotes.
A storm was coming.
The train slowed as it approached a bend, the squealing of steel adding to the disturbance of the otherwise sombre night. Lights flashed red alerting the empty road of the train's impending crossing before it lumbered on by. A lone figure exiting from an open car before rolling into the long, damp grass.
A storm was coming.
The train slowed as it approached a bend, the squealing of steel adding to the disturbance of the otherwise sombre night. Lights flashed red alerting the empty road of the train's impending crossing before it lumbered on by. A lone figure exiting from an open car before rolling into the long, damp grass.
Enjoy the world's smallest post by the owner of the world's smallest............................................................
Violin.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Location: The Alexandria Foundation - Atlantic Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Dance Monkey #4.033: Welcome to the Masquerade
Interaction(s): None
Previously: Dancing On My Own
The steady sound of the pressurization maintaining the walls and glass from imploding beneath the Atlantic provided a constant hum that felt like a railway spike driven into the frontal lobe of Summer Carlyle. The sterile white cell was a far cry from the accommodations that H.E.L.P. had afforded one of their own. Here she was treated as no better than the common power abuser, situated in cells alongside those who actually had blood on their hands.
The graying blonde took a drink from the tea in front of her, while feigning closed eyes, as her ocean-like blues followed the Foot Trooper patrolling the exterior of her cell. Soon he would appear and once again they would go to his ‘playroom’ where Summer would be subjected to his games. A shiver travelled her spine, stopping to send a pulse through every scab where the needles entered her back.
Once he had his fun, she would be placed in the chair before being shown the face of a student, and then another, and then another. Eventually one would be chosen and he would leave again.
The part of her that craved revenge against those who allowed her to be caged like a rat would have willingly carried out his mission. It wouldn’t have been the first man that Summer allowed herself to follow. Yakob’s mission had been noble, his methods extreme. His on the other hand was far more intimate, far more personal but yet, could benefit them all.
The serum, she had gathered, was made from his first. Lover, child, it didn’t matter to Summer. What did matter was the universal applications of her powers, the effect it had on every Hyperhuman. Were Yakob here, he would have made her his right hand and left Miracle aside. For the true miracle was in the girl’s blood.
The key was in the blood.
She had already broken so many for him, former agents, students, even the odd faculty member who had gotten too close to the truth. Memories were fickle and easily manipulated, he was hardly the first to use Summer for her abilities. Yakob had made extensive use of her talents during his time, Jonas before him.
Men with missions needed the perspective controlled. Summer could control that perspective, make the people see what they needed to see, believe what they needed to believe and most importantly, only remember what they needed to.
Of course, he, like Hyperion, was untouchable. If Summer so much as thought about entering his mind, he entered her. It was an indescribably horrific experience that stripped her of her own will, as he dominated her and she became more and more detached from her own body and sense of self.
Her hand absently wandered toward the nape of her neck, a finger loosely tracing along her hairline, over scar tissue that covered a phase painstakingly etched into her skin. Hidden from everyone, except the one who put it there. A script she didn’t read in a language she didn’t understand.
Σου δίνω φτερά
But she knew it marked her as his. Yakob had done the same, her forearm still bore the mark of Hyperion’s Children, a tattoo only visible by power melding with another Hyperhuman. The symbolism of a bond, a union, a brotherhood.
But his mark was possessive. Ownership, dominion and submission.
Summer opened her eyes, staring beyond the walls of her cell into the endless black of the ocean floor. The deafening nose of the ocean straining against the walls, threatening to swallow them whole was suffocating. She was frozen in time, her mind completely separated from her body, praying for the release the sea could bring.
Soon he would come.
And another would play into his hands.
The graying blonde took a drink from the tea in front of her, while feigning closed eyes, as her ocean-like blues followed the Foot Trooper patrolling the exterior of her cell. Soon he would appear and once again they would go to his ‘playroom’ where Summer would be subjected to his games. A shiver travelled her spine, stopping to send a pulse through every scab where the needles entered her back.
Once he had his fun, she would be placed in the chair before being shown the face of a student, and then another, and then another. Eventually one would be chosen and he would leave again.
The part of her that craved revenge against those who allowed her to be caged like a rat would have willingly carried out his mission. It wouldn’t have been the first man that Summer allowed herself to follow. Yakob’s mission had been noble, his methods extreme. His on the other hand was far more intimate, far more personal but yet, could benefit them all.
The serum, she had gathered, was made from his first. Lover, child, it didn’t matter to Summer. What did matter was the universal applications of her powers, the effect it had on every Hyperhuman. Were Yakob here, he would have made her his right hand and left Miracle aside. For the true miracle was in the girl’s blood.
The key was in the blood.
She had already broken so many for him, former agents, students, even the odd faculty member who had gotten too close to the truth. Memories were fickle and easily manipulated, he was hardly the first to use Summer for her abilities. Yakob had made extensive use of her talents during his time, Jonas before him.
Men with missions needed the perspective controlled. Summer could control that perspective, make the people see what they needed to see, believe what they needed to believe and most importantly, only remember what they needed to.
Of course, he, like Hyperion, was untouchable. If Summer so much as thought about entering his mind, he entered her. It was an indescribably horrific experience that stripped her of her own will, as he dominated her and she became more and more detached from her own body and sense of self.
Her hand absently wandered toward the nape of her neck, a finger loosely tracing along her hairline, over scar tissue that covered a phase painstakingly etched into her skin. Hidden from everyone, except the one who put it there. A script she didn’t read in a language she didn’t understand.
Σου δίνω φτερά
But she knew it marked her as his. Yakob had done the same, her forearm still bore the mark of Hyperion’s Children, a tattoo only visible by power melding with another Hyperhuman. The symbolism of a bond, a union, a brotherhood.
But his mark was possessive. Ownership, dominion and submission.
Summer opened her eyes, staring beyond the walls of her cell into the endless black of the ocean floor. The deafening nose of the ocean straining against the walls, threatening to swallow them whole was suffocating. She was frozen in time, her mind completely separated from her body, praying for the release the sea could bring.
Soon he would come.
And another would play into his hands.
© 2007-2024