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3 mos ago
Current I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me.
4 likes
6 mos ago
But can the Ghost Note see why kids love the great taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?
2 likes
7 mos ago
Have you tried finding the Avatar?
9 likes
8 mos ago
When you manage to snag post 69 in the IC. Nice.
7 likes
9 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

"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
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U S E R S U M M A R Y
U S E R S U M M A R Y
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Lord Wraith
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February 21st | 31 | Caucasian
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Married | | Heterosexual
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Ontario | Canada

P R E F E R E N C E S
P R E F E R E N C E S
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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
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A B O U T M E
A B O U T M E
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All systems go. Back to writing.

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Most Recent Posts

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Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
Dance Monkey #4.081: Move
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Interaction(s): Gil Galahad - @Roman, Haven Barnes - @Skai
Previously: Hysteria

The three pairs of defiant eyes elicited a raised eyebrow beneath the horned brow of the Chernobog. He took a step forward and was immediately met with a flurry of punches and kicks as the Gils made their attempt. Unflinching, the Chernobog continued towards Haven before a kick to his groan managed to get a twitch of annoyance from the looming figure and brought him to a halt. He slowly looked between the shell game of clones before deciding his opening move.

“Pity, I wish there were more of you.” He uttered, the disappointment evident before he moved into action. Grabbing a hold of the first Gil, the Chernobog’s large hand wrapped around and ankle and hoisted the man into the air. The sudden jerk ripping his hip out of its socket before the first clone was smashed into the other. The sound of flesh and bone simultaneously breaking echoed through the frozen walls of students whilst spraying them in a warm crimson mist that emanated steam against the icy surface.

Another swing of the first Gil, this time towards the third left standing before he was scooped into the air and sent cantering into the rafters before collapsing in a heap atop the balcony.

Wrapping a hand around both legs of the Gil he held and another around his neck, the Chernobog tossed his arms hapzardly back, ripping the man in half and spraying Haven with the clone's innards.

“Do you have any more insects to throw at me or are we quite done with this game?” The Chernobog asked, “Amma, Ammaranthe, it matters not, Tiamat consumes all.”

“Bigger than you.” A voice broke through the chaos and suffering as the flickering lights illuminated a head adorned in fiery hair. Stepping forward a blade formed around her hand and quickly cut the train from the floor length dress she had been wearing. Tearing a slit in the side, she kicked her heels to the side, a swirling form of liquid metal wrapping itself her opposite hand.

“Pardon?” The gargoyle asked with a sneer.

“Bigger than you, I have felled bigger than you.”

“I find that unlikely.”

“I assumed you would, which is why I wanted your attention on me and not Lucille Calder.”

“No!” The Chernobog roared, turning to pounce on Haven only to be blocked by a purple shield of energy.

“Together!” Alyssa yelled, darting around the shield as Jim came in beside Haven.

“I’ve got Tyler, but I need you to follow me.” He ordered.

“Can you do that?”
"Quem com ferro fere, com ferro será ferido."

Location: New York City - New York, U.S.A.
Concrete Jungle #1.02: Power Princess

Interaction(s): None
Previously: City of Gods

Panic had begun to set in over the city as Yara emerged onto the street. News choppers raced overhead heading South West from Manhattan’s center back in the direction her train had come from. The skies overhead had become dark, as winds whipped between the towering buildings tossing the hood of her sweater about and whipping her long black hair across her face.

Tying it back quickly, the yoga pants-clad young woman shielded her eyes from dust and wind while watching the helicopters overhead, a news broadcast blaring from a nearby radio.

“...Several tourists have been swept into the waters of the New York Harbour surrounding the Statue of Liberty as reports of unforeseen swells are threatening to break the flood wall surrounding the island.”

Pulling her hood over her head, Yara didn’t hesitate a moment longer. She knew she could help those people and could likely get on the scene faster than either the Coast Guard or Search and Rescue in the current conditions.

Her hood lasted all of five seconds before it fell, but it didn’t matter as Yara took her first leap, leaving the street behind as she leapt a tall building in a single bound. The crowd below let out a sound of ‘awe’ and while Yara knew she wasn’t the Superman of Metropolis, it still felt good to elicit some wonder from people.

Renata would be less than pleased, but she’d never been able to stop Yara from helping in the past. After all, of those who had much, much was demanded. And it’s not like the superpowered young woman wanted to watch as people drowned. In New York, she was a nobody, just a face in the crowd. She could be a hero here because people wouldn’t remember the person, they’d remember the act.

In Boise, she was defined by who she was, but in New York, she could be defined by what she did.

Bounding across rooftops, it didn’t take Yara long to reach the Bay. Skidding to a stop, she paused, looking down at the waves and taking a deep breath.

She could swim.

She could. Her internal monologue repeated as the Brazilian woman reassured herself. Swallowing, she dove from the rooftop, over the barrier and the pier, launching herself into the Bay. Whistling air was suddenly replaced by the water’s cold embrace as Yara felt the shock nearly force the air from her lungs.

But the water felt almost homely, even soaking through her clothes, Yara felt connected to the water and suddenly it propelled her forward like a helping friend. She crossed the gap toward the island in what felt like no time at all before her arms were wrapping around the first victim.

“Hold on, sir,” Yara yelled over the waves and wind, “I’ve got you.”

- -First Issue: City of Gods---
Next Issue: Hell Or High Water-
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Latest Issue: Power Princess
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

You have no intention of that and you know it


Not in the next post...
I promise Jason Blood and Etrigan will appear in this story...

Eventually?
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Location: 418 SW RavensView Drive - Portland, Oregan - United States of America
Who You Gonna Call? #1.05: Vampyre
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Interaction(s): None
Previously: Angel

“Breathe in-” The calming voice echoed across the front room of the small bungalow as a woman’s voice emitted from a nearby speaker. The ‘Best Guided Meditations’ playlist continued as the man in the center of the room took another breath, attempting to follow the instructions presented by the woman’s recorded voice.

It had been six thousand, five hundred and seventy-four days since the last incident.

The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted through the living room, passing under Monroe’s nose as he continued his meditation. Taking another breath, he inhaled the tempting aroma, his enhanced olfactory senses picking apart each underlying scent and isolating the ingredients in the cookies.

The substitute eggs and butter had a particularly overwhelming scent he was accustomed to. While not always the most appetizing, they also flame the bloodlust within the reformed man. It was important to maintain his routine, the clockmaker had long taken a vow of ‘Erlangen Wieder Weidmann’ to ensure there were no further incidents and the healthy habits helped keep that vow intact.

As did remaining undisturbed.

A series of three loud knocks on the door caused Monroe to open an eye. Taking a fresh whiff of the air, the familiar woodsy cologne caused a reluctant smile to cross his face.

“Monroe?” Rosalee’s voice yelled from upstairs, “Who’s at the door?”

“Just Nick, honey,” Monroe replied to his wife before swinging the large arched door open and greeting the dark-haired detective. The vintage yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked out front of the small bungalow was dwarfed by the large unmarked Dodge Character.

“Monroe, I’ve got a problem,” Nick stated stepping inside as Monroe was left holding the door.

“Yeah, sure, come in.” Monroe replied dryly, “Great to see you Monroe, have you lost weight?” He continued before following the detective into his own living room.

“Sorry, Monroe, I’ve just got three bodies already and if the pattern persists, it’s only going to get worse.” Nick apologized, “What do you know about vampires?”

“You’ve got vampyre problems? Here?” Monroe replied with surprise, “Portland falls under the protection of the Pack, vampyres are strictly prohibited from hunting within Pack territory, the Monarchy knows this.”

“Whoa, Monroe,” Nick interrupted, “I’m going to need some context, what are you talking about?”

“Well, as a Grimm, you’re already aware of the Wesen Pack, the council that oversees all therianthropes in coalition with the Royals or ‘Alphas’ as they also prefer.” Monroe began, “Vampyre, and other various kinds of ‘undead’ are under the rule of the Monarchy, a set of self-imposed rulers who also have claimed territories. Wesen and vampyre, or rather the Upyri, spent centuries at war with one another until they were eventually united against common enemies.”

“The Grimms?”

Monroe nodded, “And of course the Slayer, but she wasn’t near as populous as you Grimms.” He took a deep breath, massaging his temples before leaning back in an armchair that must have been from the Victorian era by Nick’s estimate.

“Either way, you’ve got a delicate situation to navigate. If your vampyre isn’t caught soon, this could escalate into a situation that might even cause a war between the Pack and the Monarchy. And when that happens, it’s only ever humans that lose.” Monroe lamented, “Though, humans are getting more and more terrifying every day, did you see the news about-”

“Monroe,” Nick chided slightly, “Do we need to consider that this could be politically motivated? Could it be some kind of retaliation? Would Black Claw attack vampires?”

“Were your victims Wesen?” Monroe asked.

“Not that I could tell,” Nick replied.

“Then doubtful, the Pack and the Monarchy have historically not gotten along, but thanks to the Watcher Council, a pact was brokered between them. Like I said, Portland falls under the Pack, but we’re surrounded by the Monarchy both in the North and South. It’s still going to be a sticky situation to get involved in. I suggest you stake your vampire and call it a day.” He said moving his arm through the air while holding an imaginary peg.

“Just like that?”

Monroe mimed the gesture a second time.

“Just like that.”
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Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
Dance Monkey #4.078: Hysteria
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Interaction(s): Amma Cahors - @Rockette, Haven Barnes - @Skai, Rory Tyler - @Webboysurf
Previously: Chernobog

“There will be no running.” The Chernobog interrupted loudly, its keen ears. “And there will be none of this.” Its nostrils suddenly flared, a gout of icy breath directed towards Rory, encasing his legs where he stood before the towering creature’s keen eyes darted from Haven to Amma and back to Haven.

“If you run, I will break both your wings and your legs.” He cautioned, a powerful flap of his own wings emitting a shockwave that pushed everyone back save for Rory who was frozen in place.

“Like this.”

For someone so large, it was terrifying how fast the Chernobog closed the gap between himself and Rory. A sickening ‘CRACK’ echoed throughout the A.R.C. whilst Rory crumbled to the ground, chunks of shattered ice around his body while the sight of his own femur greeted the young man.

The creature’s prehensile tail lashed out, cracking like a whip before halving the still ringing phone beneath Haven. Its attention now turned to Amma before it began to speak again.

“You think her to be your ally?” The Chernobog asked, motioning its horns towards Amma. “Perhaps the woman you knew here is, but Tiamat is not.” His stoic face slightly turned into a smile.

“She who bore us all, Ummu-Hubur,” The Chernobog hissed watching Amma like a predator stalks its prey.

Ummu-Hubur,
Ummu-Hubur,
Ummu Hubur,


The beast of a man continued to chant before suddenly resuming speech.

“By day I can not rest, by night I can not lie down in peace. Let there be lamentation until I can lie down again.”

His voice suddenly changed, almost monotone and robotic before ordering.

“Tiamat, you have a mission to resume.” His eyes darted towards a redheaded woman atop the balcony before returning to Haven.

“And you’re coming with me, Dove.”
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Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
Dance Monkey #4.076: Chernobog
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Interaction(s): None
Previously: Dance, Dance

Leathery wings beat against the night sky, their span stretching easily while over the width of four grown men. Muscles rippled through the vein-covered membrane that was stretched over painfully grown bone and sinew. Frigid breath exhaled sharply from flared nostrils beneath a horned brow. Each flap of its powerful wings was like a thunderclap above the cold night sky above the Pacific Ocean.

Circling the island below, the louds and music of the emitting from the A.R.C. drew its attention before it plunged towards the ground below. Drones rose through the air to meet the large object, detecting the HZEs and isolating the creature as a threat but the countermeasures failed to stop the gargoyle as its arctic breath stopped the drones in their path, dropping the frozen devices towards the ground, harbingers of panic and fear preceding the collision of the creature with the roof of the A.R.C.

A dull thud echoed above the music inside as it landed. The structure shook under the weight of the towering creature. A chilling roar echoed through the night sky sending some scurrying for their dorms while others sought shelter in the nearest open building.

Dropping down to all fours, the gargoyle tucked its wings against its back before sharp claws dug into the steel exterior of the A.R.C. as it moved about. The punctures echoed and metal hissed in brief resistance before suddenly silence fell over the Senior Formal.

But it didn’t last.

Screams filled the dancefloor and students ran for the nearest exits only to be frozen solid as a barrier of ice appeared. Shrapnel rained from above before the creature gracefully plummeted into the center of the dance. The projected theme glitch and faded in places where circuitry was cleaved apart. As the creature fell, its wings extended enough to catch the brunt of the forceful impact. Red eyes peered through the terrified crowd, a guttural growl filling its throat as it looked from one student to the next before fixing its glare on Haven before its head slowly trailed to Amma.

“Hello, mothers.”

The words hung in the air for the briefest of moments as the present members of Blackjack were forced to take in the carnage. Fleeing students frozen in ice, the roof of the A.R.C. now possessing a skylight, and a ten foot tall creature with near impenetrable skin, horns, claws and wings stood in the center of the room, its eyes ravenously fixed on two of their own.

“I’m afraid, I need you both to come with me.” The creature uttered again, its speech fair from mindless, composed, prime, even proper if not downright posh. “The father is expecting you both,” It looked around at those who stood ready for a fight.

“I’d be happy to dispatch any interlopers who dare challenge the Chernobog.”

“Dispatch this!” Cassander suddenly roared over the crowd, his fist crackling with energy as he landed a blow on the unflinching creature. The explosion emitted a blinding blast but when it cleared, the group was greeted by the sight of the Chernobog unhindered, simply holding Cassander by the throat.

“I am saddened by you,” The gargoyle replied, slowly beginning to squeeze before suddenly finding its vice-like grip being resisted, an opposing force pushing its hand open.

“Let him go.” Torres ordered, appearing suddenly as she approached the creature with authority and intent, “I know Daedalus sent you, and I know this isn’t you, you can resist him, search yourself, the person you used to be is still there.”

Cassander was suddenly dropped to the ground, quickly scrambling backwards while Torres continued to negotiate with the towering creature. Its upper lip curled in disgust before an uttered reply came from beneath gritted, pointed teeth.

“They are dead, there is only the Chernobog.” Without warning, its clawed hand backhanded Torres across the chest. A crimson arc splattered those nearby as she fell back to the ground, sliding across the glitching floor before coming to a rest. Blood poured freely from the woman’s lower ribcage and abdomen where claw marks had easily cleaved skin clean from his bone.

“Mothers, come.” The creature commanded again, “Before I have to embarrass anymore of your… friends.” A mist of frigid air erupted from its nostrils as it snorted in defiance, its eyes resting firmly on Rory before it offered a large hand towards the pair of young women.

“I’m getting impatient.”
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Location: The Augmented Reality Center - Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, Dundas Island
Dance Monkey #4.075: Nails for Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks
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Interaction(s): @Qia - Harper Baxter
Previously: Look What You Made Me Do

Watching Chad go, Cass let out a defiant snort, loosening his tie before rolling the sleeves of his shirt and popping the top button open. His blood was still boiling despite the triumphant exterior. He had been hoping for more of a fight out of Chad, in fact he’d been hoping for more of a fight in general tonight. Twice he had picked a fight and twice the results had been less than what he was hoping for.

In a blink, Lorcán and Aurora disappeared and a sad smile crossed Cassander’s face. There was no doubt in his mind that whenever the pair returned, something would have changed between them and while he was happy for his cousin and his new friend, he could help but feel a stifling longing rising up from within him.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to recenter himself just as his therapist had suggested countless times, but all Cassander felt like doing in that morning was ditching this whole over-celebrated event and going a couple rounds with the punching bag across campus. His pulse was racing, blood pumping, he was fired up and ready to go.

A hand suddenly wrapped around his arm from behind him, a firm pull catching him off guard and memories suddenly came flying back. Hands caressing him from behind, powerless to fight back, fearing the sharp sting of a belt. Voices all around, whispering as Cassander was taken away to protect the younger kids, he blinked back tears, a lump in his throat and then suddenly Cass was back at the dance and all he felt was blind rage.

Already in fight mode, Cass grit his teeth, his stance widening as Harper’s grip was immediately met with resilience. The hair on the back of Cassander’s neck shot up on its end while his hands crackled with explosive energy. His arm quickly and roughly jerked itself free of her grip, before the larger young man spun around on his heels, hands balled into fists looking for a second fight.

The second he saw Harper’s face, Cassander faltered, his hands releasing their tension while he quelled the explosives in his palms, reabsorbing the energy, painfully defusing his own attacks. He straightened his posture as his eyes went to his jacket in her arms before he quickly took it from the petite brunette.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He snapped, “Just-” The words were caught in his throat as he looked Harper over. She was gorgeous in her outfit, but she had unknowingly hit a trigger and the words to tell her such just weren’t going to come.

“I think I need some air,” Cass’ voice cracked slightly, his eyes looking for the exit before a thunderclap outside caught his attention. Another sounded and then another. His mind was suddenly caught in another memory, one more recent, only five years ago as Cassander saw lightning explode on the Southern Plateau and his hand wandered to the now throbbing scar tissue situated just above his heart.

A thud on the roof of the A.R.C. consolidated his worst fears.
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

yeah.... Whatever is going to happen in NYC


This is getting exciting.
Anyways, Yara is on the scene in New York City now, building towards whatever @Sep is cooking up.
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