Anyone fancy posting?
Miakardia Member
Written at Dusk
STATUS: I'm baaaack! Sorry to anyone I disappeared on, but judging by my subscriptions, the others disappeared too. If I was doing any 1-1s with people who want to continue them, hit me up! 8 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 123 (0.04 / day)
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Username history
- Miakardia 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
I'm baaaack! Sorry to anyone I disappeared on, but judging by my subscriptions, the others disappeared too. If I was doing any 1-1s with people who want to continue them, hit me up!
9 yrs ago
A royale with cheese...
9 yrs ago
RIP Alan Rickman. :'(
9 yrs ago
First status :o
Bio
I'm a physics undergrad student from Britain, currently studying in my second year, with ten years of RP experience on forums, and about four years on MMOs. I'm not really sure what else to say here... So... Peace out!
Most Recent Posts
Yeah, we'll carry on. His character isn't in the dungeon yet so we're not waiting for something then
Daha rolled his eyes. He had sat on the mat beside the girl who had spoken to him on his arrival. After her question had been asked, he had barely had enough time to confirm that he had no injuries, if that's what she meant, before the two other men were thrown into the room. When the two others were brought in, he sat on the thin mat, which did little to protect him from the cold hard floor, watching the two men converse.
"Do the two of you even know where you are... or why?" Daha asked as the younger of the two men sat on a bed opposite him. The older of the two of them was still on his feet. "We have been... volunteered, I guess... They took another lad from my village a couple years back. People do not come back from here." He leans back, with a glance at the ground. "Though by all means, if you plan on escaping... I would recommend sharing." He looks at the younger man, sat opposite him, "You would not make it out of here alive."
The woodcutter's apprentice had barely finished speaking when the heavy metal door swung open and two girls were pushed in. They looked a little older than Daha himself, and were completely identical. Both of them had the same long dirty blonde hair, and bright green eyes full of fear. They stood close to one another in the doorway, looking around the room, not saying a word, probably closer together right now, united in fear, than they had when they once shared a womb.
"Do the two of you even know where you are... or why?" Daha asked as the younger of the two men sat on a bed opposite him. The older of the two of them was still on his feet. "We have been... volunteered, I guess... They took another lad from my village a couple years back. People do not come back from here." He leans back, with a glance at the ground. "Though by all means, if you plan on escaping... I would recommend sharing." He looks at the younger man, sat opposite him, "You would not make it out of here alive."
The woodcutter's apprentice had barely finished speaking when the heavy metal door swung open and two girls were pushed in. They looked a little older than Daha himself, and were completely identical. Both of them had the same long dirty blonde hair, and bright green eyes full of fear. They stood close to one another in the doorway, looking around the room, not saying a word, probably closer together right now, united in fear, than they had when they once shared a womb.
I've been waiting on @Tom Lyon
Ideally I'd like everyone to try to post at least once every couple of days. If someone disappears for longer than a week though without an OOC message to let us know what's happening, we'll likely move on.
Daha
Having travelled for three days and nights, first by cage-cart, then by boat down the river Kokki to the capital, Daha was exhausted. He had not been fed at all during the journey, and had been presented with a minimum amount of water. The bumpy roads had made it near impossible to sleep in the cart, and on the boat, the floor of the cage he was enclosed in was splintered and worn from the fingernails of those who had occupied the cell before him.
By the time the boat docked at the royal palace, Daha was almost relieved. He was escorted off the boat with a sack over his head, and dragged through winding corridors and down several flights of stairs, the air slowly becoming damper the deeper they descended. Eventually he heard the creaking of metal, and the sack was ripped from his head, and a strong hand pushed him between the shoulder blades, throwing him forward through an open metal door into a large stone room with no windows and high ceiling.
As the young man hit the ground, he let out a gasp of pain as the air was pushed from his lungs, and his knees and hands scraped along the flagstone floor. He twisted in time to see one of the guards slam the solid metal door closed, and hear the clunk of the lock. He remained there on the floor for a few more seconds, catching his breath back, before pushing himself to his feet. He looked around slowly, taking in eight sleeping sacks on the stone floor, which were illuminated burning torches embedded into the walls and made out of reach by metal grates with gaps too small to fit a hand through.
The eight beds sparked a thought in the back of Daha's memory. He remembered the stories of the Chosen. How each year, the legion and guard would set out and collect eight random individuals from across Logaris, and take them to the royal palace, never to be seen again. But until that moment, Daha had believed them to be just that... stories.
Cacus
The immortal sat atop his throne, carved of white marble. He was in his throne room, a long white hall with pillars carved of the same material as the throne which sat atop a dais at one end of the room. At the foot of the dais knelt a shivering wreck of a man. The man was all skin and bones, and his clothes clung very loosely to his almost decaying form. His hair was unkept and white, and his fingernails were broken and untamed. His eyes watched the base of the throne, not daring to look up at the man seated in the throne itself.
"Are you prepared, Daedalys?" The man sat in the throne speaks slowly, and calmly, with the arrogant air of a man who is rarely if ever refused. "The Day of the Chosen is tomorrow. And I will not allow the ceremony to begin until I am satisfied that your preparations are complete." The Fire God lets his gaze wonder the room lazily as he speaks. The main room is approximately sixty metres in length, with ten huge pillars evenly spaced in two lines, so that five stood either side of the room, running down it. On each pillar stood a guard in full armour, the burning sun carved proudly onto their chests, their spearswords held tightly in their grasp. Another two guards stood at the bottom of the dais, one on each corner.
"Y-yes my lord..." The old man replies, his voice breaking halfway through the short sentence. "Of c-course my lord... I w-wou-would never allow m-my insolence to impede up-upon his greatness' plans and r-routine..." He grovels, bowing his head lower as he speaks.
A brief smirk flickers across Cacus' face. "Very good. You are dismissed in that case." He looked down at the guards at the foot of the dais. "Return him to his cell."
The guards move in unison towards the old man who suddenly looks up, his eyes are clouded, and he squints in the direction of Cacus, his vision clearly as broken as his confidence. "My lord, if I may..." He starts, and the guards stop either side of him, looking to their king for further orders. "I-I would be able to w-work much faster and efficiently if Icarys were r-ret-returned to assist m-me."
This time, the king does not attempt to hide his smirk. "My dear man..." He gets to his feet and walks down the dais towards Daedalys slowly. "Your son enjoys his new quarters so much, though... It would be a shame to give him back to you, to be forced to live in squalor... Besides. He is a good insurance policy." He stops just in front of the old man, staring down at him. "Now, back to your cell. I have other matters to attend to."
Having travelled for three days and nights, first by cage-cart, then by boat down the river Kokki to the capital, Daha was exhausted. He had not been fed at all during the journey, and had been presented with a minimum amount of water. The bumpy roads had made it near impossible to sleep in the cart, and on the boat, the floor of the cage he was enclosed in was splintered and worn from the fingernails of those who had occupied the cell before him.
By the time the boat docked at the royal palace, Daha was almost relieved. He was escorted off the boat with a sack over his head, and dragged through winding corridors and down several flights of stairs, the air slowly becoming damper the deeper they descended. Eventually he heard the creaking of metal, and the sack was ripped from his head, and a strong hand pushed him between the shoulder blades, throwing him forward through an open metal door into a large stone room with no windows and high ceiling.
As the young man hit the ground, he let out a gasp of pain as the air was pushed from his lungs, and his knees and hands scraped along the flagstone floor. He twisted in time to see one of the guards slam the solid metal door closed, and hear the clunk of the lock. He remained there on the floor for a few more seconds, catching his breath back, before pushing himself to his feet. He looked around slowly, taking in eight sleeping sacks on the stone floor, which were illuminated burning torches embedded into the walls and made out of reach by metal grates with gaps too small to fit a hand through.
The eight beds sparked a thought in the back of Daha's memory. He remembered the stories of the Chosen. How each year, the legion and guard would set out and collect eight random individuals from across Logaris, and take them to the royal palace, never to be seen again. But until that moment, Daha had believed them to be just that... stories.
---
Cacus
The immortal sat atop his throne, carved of white marble. He was in his throne room, a long white hall with pillars carved of the same material as the throne which sat atop a dais at one end of the room. At the foot of the dais knelt a shivering wreck of a man. The man was all skin and bones, and his clothes clung very loosely to his almost decaying form. His hair was unkept and white, and his fingernails were broken and untamed. His eyes watched the base of the throne, not daring to look up at the man seated in the throne itself.
"Are you prepared, Daedalys?" The man sat in the throne speaks slowly, and calmly, with the arrogant air of a man who is rarely if ever refused. "The Day of the Chosen is tomorrow. And I will not allow the ceremony to begin until I am satisfied that your preparations are complete." The Fire God lets his gaze wonder the room lazily as he speaks. The main room is approximately sixty metres in length, with ten huge pillars evenly spaced in two lines, so that five stood either side of the room, running down it. On each pillar stood a guard in full armour, the burning sun carved proudly onto their chests, their spearswords held tightly in their grasp. Another two guards stood at the bottom of the dais, one on each corner.
"Y-yes my lord..." The old man replies, his voice breaking halfway through the short sentence. "Of c-course my lord... I w-wou-would never allow m-my insolence to impede up-upon his greatness' plans and r-routine..." He grovels, bowing his head lower as he speaks.
A brief smirk flickers across Cacus' face. "Very good. You are dismissed in that case." He looked down at the guards at the foot of the dais. "Return him to his cell."
The guards move in unison towards the old man who suddenly looks up, his eyes are clouded, and he squints in the direction of Cacus, his vision clearly as broken as his confidence. "My lord, if I may..." He starts, and the guards stop either side of him, looking to their king for further orders. "I-I would be able to w-work much faster and efficiently if Icarys were r-ret-returned to assist m-me."
This time, the king does not attempt to hide his smirk. "My dear man..." He gets to his feet and walks down the dais towards Daedalys slowly. "Your son enjoys his new quarters so much, though... It would be a shame to give him back to you, to be forced to live in squalor... Besides. He is a good insurance policy." He stops just in front of the old man, staring down at him. "Now, back to your cell. I have other matters to attend to."
I was thinking about adding Derian's "power moves" to his list of abilities. So for example, he displayed an inadvertant "thunder punch" in the first post. So I would add that to this list as well as subsequent powers that may or may not pop up. Just a thought. It could work for every power that is listed.
Yeah, just list it under the electrokinesis subheading :)
I'll get a dungeon post up now
I've added info on the military orders and the calendar to the first OOC post for ease of reference in the future.
@Thundercrash@JaceBeleren I had taken that into consideration, so when I was brainstorming names for the months, they were going to have strong ties to the time of year, so people will have a rough idea of what time of year it is based off the name of the month, for ease of communication between the uneducated and the educated. There's also the link between the calendar and the shortest/longest days, something which the commonfolk will be able to track.
Very interested!
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