Avatar of LukasVolkov
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    1. LukasVolkov 6 yrs ago

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6 yrs ago
Current Returned after a hell of a hiatus.
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The haft of a nightstick tapped on Amelia's door, drawing her from her book.

"Beauchamp lunch time," Officer graves said, her lips pursed in annoyance.

Such a shame, she was nearing the best part. She dog eared her book and set it among its fellows on the metal desk. Standing up, she shivered as the hum of the void stones made her feel as though in free fall. Her eyes drifted in hatred for the small black stones hidden behind the walls of her cell. Damned mage-work. Getting her bearings she walked over to the door and put her arm through the open food-port. There Officer Graves secured the thick bracer on Amelia's wrist, locking it into place. Though a familiar weight by now, it still felt overly heavy, and the open faced void stone that stared at her as though in cheek defiance made her head buzz. Shaking the the feeling she stepped back as the guard unlocked her door and began escorting her down toward the cafeteria.

"No luck with your issue Officer?" Amelia asked, noting the usually bubbly guard's dour demeanor.

"Happens when I'm lied to."

"I read the fortune as it was presented to me," Amelia said. "Patience. I read good fortune and good fortune will come."

Upon entering the cafeteria Amelia was assaulted with a busy indeed. Between the rowdy inmates and the bustle of the guards in one end of the cafeteria attempting to get some mad fool under control, she sneered. Her eyes rested on the gathering of her fellow inmates having quite the animated conversation. She noted the men at that table and took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her through. Outwardly she took on a haughty demeanor and went for her tray. Her assigned guard, more a formality than truly necessary, went off to assist her fellows as Amelia went for her tray.

More slop. Amelia sneered down at her tray before making her way toward the table. That familiar panic/hatred reared its head but she managed to swallow it down. Freedom. This is for freedom. Drawing herself up straighter she took a seat at the end of the table. She eyed the men before setting her utensils straight.
@LukasVolkov Your character is accepted, would you like the link to the discord server?


Nah thank though don't have a discord. I'll get my first post in post haste.
At the moment not really. Maybe the Count of Monte Cristo because its my favorite book but I was also thinking the Odyssey but trying to work out how either of those would work for a grimoir. Still thinking on the specifics
So quick question so I'm clear. Any story, myth, or fable will work for this yeah?
May I throw my hat into this?


Oh. Its not outright cancelled is it?
I was curious, can our characters have more than one aspect?
Lykantha saw blood splatter and flow from the wound she’d caused. A thrill ran through her at the sight of blood, staunched just barely be being grabbed. The grip around her wrist was like iron chains binding her in place. The shockwave forced her to stumble, combined with the grip around her wrist she stumbled.

But it afforded her an opportunity. She slid onto her back and twisted her herself. Her wrist burned in protest but she ignored it. She dropped her dagger, decently snatching it from the air with her other hand. This all occurred in the span of a breath before she made to slam the dagger’s all nine inches into Akshay’s belly and rip down. She’d gut one of them before night’s end if she was to fall tonight.

@goodmode @Undying Curiosity

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