Musoka@Midori@Raijinslayer Haha, what is this strange tongue you speak in?
Mivuli Member
STATUS: It would appear blue-haired girls are a thing. With me. It's become a recurring trend 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
9 yrs ago
Current
It would appear blue-haired girls are a thing. With me. It's become a recurring trend
2
likes
9 yrs ago
Halsey is on my mind. Nothing but Halsey. Heelp
Bio
Living in the GMT+8 timezone, with important assessments awaiting in 2016! Forgive me if my schedule refuses to cooperate
(Have this gif as an apology ahead of time)
Most Recent Posts
Behind each scar lies a painful memory, healed and scabbed, while every smirk tells of a hundred more scowls.
Name: Nodah Listig
Class: Gravitin
Race: Human
Appearance: Lanky and tall. Light hazel hair is always tousled and messy. 175 centimeters tall, and 54 kilogrammes heavy. Light on his feet, with dexterous fingers. Looks delicate, but is more than capable of holding his own. Default eye colour is blue. (Any Other Info)
Power Ranking: A
Elective Classes: Magical History; Potion Making
Character's Characteristics: Nodah is a diplomat at heart. His policy is one of caution: never burn bridges before you have walked them. He follows whatever means necessary to attain what he desires. To him, life is to be played as a game. His humour is sly, and his deeds always coldly-calculated. Nodah is wont to keep his distance, while exuding undisputed and amiable confidence. He grins easily. He is skilled and well-versed with his powers, but would rather appear as one of the best rather than the best.
Main Power(s): Manipulating the movement of objects, and summoning them. He enjoys making merchandise fly off shelves in shops, out of mischief, boredom, or a partnership of both.
Backstory: He came from parents who were so enthralled in the throes of their dissolving marriage, that their son ceased to hold significant importance in their eyes. Nodah despised being invisible to them as they erupted and then tiptoed, brawled and then retreated, drunk and strung high on the destructive nature of their clashes. While they were occupied with their perpetual tango, he focused on discovering his powers. For a boy who’d known only camouflage and dismissal, the magic he wielded was his one crutch, and saving grace. He has come to highly-value his powers, for they gave him first belief in his worth.
Any Other Info: Nodah is in reality deeply insecure, and is subject to nightmares and anxiety often. Not that he would let anyone know, however. Also, with his volatile emotions, his eye colour is subject to changes according to his mood. It is a quirk he is unable to properly explain.
@Mivuli Yes anyone can put their approved character in the character section :)
And you made an NPC? It just came to mind~
Okay, thanks, I'll move Nodah then!
And no, I didn't. I was just worried that my second post might have seemed like there was an NPC. Thanks!
@Mivuli
I hadn't put much though into doom mates yet :3 So you're free to look around and see who would want to room with your character.
I see. So it's free-rooming then? Thanks!
Isabelle Chia
Cafe/Dorm
When Elise leant down to take Isabelle's hand in her own, she had to laugh a little, hiding the small swell of bashfulness. "Well, that was really a figure of speech, but this," she raised their linked hands. "I'll be positively sure not to get lost now." With another grin at Elise - whom she, quite decidedly, rather liked - she allowed herself to be led away. Hearing her mention the topic of roommates, Isabelle cast her gaze around at the trees and shrubs that lined the way to the dormitories. "I would not mind that," she said, wistfully weighing the odds of her stumbling upon a Samaritan as obliging as Elise.
"I suppose there aren't many people compatible with me, hehe." Isabelle tilted her head to the side, and thought. "Well, that could mean that whoever your match, it'll be well-won, and fitting."
"What kind of person am I hoping for?" she echoed. Elise had raised a fair question, one that had not occurred to Isabelle before. "Why, just about anyone, I think." Frowning, she gave it further consideration, adjusting the strap of her canvas bag filled with items of both sentiment and practicality. Unexpectedly, a memory came to her and dislodged a laugh from the back of her throat. "Someone used to tell me that I was a right old fool." Saying it brought a sweet taste to her mouth, and the corners of her lips crept upwards. But it dissolved quickly, leaving nothing but a faint ghost on her tongue to remember it by.
"I haven't got my sights set too high, but someone my parents could approve of would be preferable," she conceded, and she laughed again. "Isn't it sad that that is a critical point in any of my potential relationships? My parent's approval?" They were approaching a three-storied block of buildings, that had to be the dormitory. "How about you?" Isabelle asked, wondering what sort of match Elise desired.
They walked through the glass front doors, and Isabelle looked around her with unconcealed wonder. Here she would live for the next year and beyond. It was a strange feeling, to know and think that in conjunction with anywhere but the house she had grown up in over the course of sixteen years. At the reception counter, a woman smiled in warm greeting and gave her a form. Isabelle looked to Elise. "Do you need one too?"
Taking a pen into her grip, the hand holding onto Elise's absent-mindedly grew loose, but did not drop of its own accord. Once done with writing her name, age as of the first of January, birthday, and personal particulars, Isabelle looked up to the receptionist and smiled, handing her the form. In return she was given the keys to her room. The key jangled as she turned it around in her palms, looking for the room number.
@Konica
Cafe/Dorm
When Elise leant down to take Isabelle's hand in her own, she had to laugh a little, hiding the small swell of bashfulness. "Well, that was really a figure of speech, but this," she raised their linked hands. "I'll be positively sure not to get lost now." With another grin at Elise - whom she, quite decidedly, rather liked - she allowed herself to be led away. Hearing her mention the topic of roommates, Isabelle cast her gaze around at the trees and shrubs that lined the way to the dormitories. "I would not mind that," she said, wistfully weighing the odds of her stumbling upon a Samaritan as obliging as Elise.
"I suppose there aren't many people compatible with me, hehe." Isabelle tilted her head to the side, and thought. "Well, that could mean that whoever your match, it'll be well-won, and fitting."
"What kind of person am I hoping for?" she echoed. Elise had raised a fair question, one that had not occurred to Isabelle before. "Why, just about anyone, I think." Frowning, she gave it further consideration, adjusting the strap of her canvas bag filled with items of both sentiment and practicality. Unexpectedly, a memory came to her and dislodged a laugh from the back of her throat. "Someone used to tell me that I was a right old fool." Saying it brought a sweet taste to her mouth, and the corners of her lips crept upwards. But it dissolved quickly, leaving nothing but a faint ghost on her tongue to remember it by.
"I haven't got my sights set too high, but someone my parents could approve of would be preferable," she conceded, and she laughed again. "Isn't it sad that that is a critical point in any of my potential relationships? My parent's approval?" They were approaching a three-storied block of buildings, that had to be the dormitory. "How about you?" Isabelle asked, wondering what sort of match Elise desired.
They walked through the glass front doors, and Isabelle looked around her with unconcealed wonder. Here she would live for the next year and beyond. It was a strange feeling, to know and think that in conjunction with anywhere but the house she had grown up in over the course of sixteen years. At the reception counter, a woman smiled in warm greeting and gave her a form. Isabelle looked to Elise. "Do you need one too?"
Taking a pen into her grip, the hand holding onto Elise's absent-mindedly grew loose, but did not drop of its own accord. Once done with writing her name, age as of the first of January, birthday, and personal particulars, Isabelle looked up to the receptionist and smiled, handing her the form. In return she was given the keys to her room. The key jangled as she turned it around in her palms, looking for the room number.
@Konica
@The ghost in black Yes if you want to go ahead~
Could the rest of us as well?
BTW if you want to add an NPC ask me first please~
Oh, and was it because of my second post?
@ViolentViolet Sorry, but is there a procedure when checking into your dormitories?
Yup, definitely still interested!
Nodah Listig
With a small sound of surprise in the back of his throat, Nodah lurched forward, and had to maintain his balance by rocking back on the balls of his feet. He felt his muscles tense without volunteer, as hands slithered around his middle, entrapping him in their iniquitous hold. He lost his breath for a moment, the air had thickened. In the corner of his eye, a wispy strand of blue hair waved like a ribbon.
“Pardon the intrusion,” he heard a girl say. Fingers found his iced skin beneath his shirt. Their tips felt sunbaked. His jaw locked almost painfully, Nodah’s eyelids fluttered closed, the warm press of a body against his stiff back. It would be the easiest thing to throw this girl off of him, and send her sprawling to the dirt, leave an impression or two as due penalty for her callous infraction. But that was un-chivalrous, and recollections of the gallantry lessons his mother had drilled into him with her brittle voice hammered a dull ache in his head, driving him to maddening confusion. Preservation, or patience? Retaliation, or restraint?
Nodah’s eyes sprang open. They burned in their sockets, turned the warmest ocher, with a frozen nugget of ice encased in each center of their heat. “Of course,” he lied breathily, forcing his muscles to relax beneath the girl's blanketing warmth. Nodah's mask of indifference returned to him, betraying not a trace of the upset that hadn't roots in the risqué nature of the druid’s actions. His elbow was touched, and no inspection was required to know that the girl had healed the superficial scratch. A druid, then, and a succubus as well.
Once she pranced away to the pixie, Nodah felt true relief. He straightened to his feet, and when the pixie was returned to the world of the living - leaving with haste - Nodah turned to the succubus.
“My thanks, fair lady,” he murmured. Despite this, the flecks of cold in his irises began to burgeon, unbidden. Like weeds, their crystal tendrils overran his pupils, until wintry blue had besieged what had been tawny eyes. At odds with his gaze, Nodah released a wane smile. "Though I must ask that you keep your affections away from a bashful man. You are beautiful; I find myself undeserving," glibly, he said. Poisonous thoughts rose like fumes in his mind, intangible to only him. His eyes were the only indications that they existed at all. Cast yourself upon me once more, and you shan't find me clement. This, he kept to himself. He must. Nodah did not burn bridges - be they inflammably wooden or crumbling stone - before he'd crossed them.
Nodah held the succubus' gaze a second longer, before turning to walk, his strides long. "A good day." By the time he came to the building, his broiling stomach had settled.
He saw that the pixie had unlocked the doors, and Nodah slipped in after him. With a light “Hm,” of appraisal, he raised his vision to the ceiling, sweeping downwards and taking in the extravagant interior. He tossed a glance at the queue of people he joined, heard Yayo Fiji address the pixie, and the pixie leave high-spirited, a Nocturne in his wake.
Nodah slid into place behind a horned demon and a youth on rollerblades – what curious company Rosewood kept – and fingered the strap of his bag, hands working restlessly as he amassed his thoughts (a nasty business). For several heartbeats in that copse of trees, he had been a skittish colt, vulnerable to the harmless, and which startled at every touch. That feeble cloak which had draped heavily over Nodah – atrophying his muscles and robbing his strength – had not only laid Nodah as bare as was conceivable, but had also brought forth memories of a scrawny youth, whom Nodah spent every waking moment running away from, but could never outpace and evade. The boy refused adamantly to be evicted, to be buried. In eternal preference to the cloak, Nodah donned his mask; yet, at times, the reins slipped from his knuckles, and he was forced to flounder and grope the floor for them, like a crippled beggar without his crutches. It did not matter that Nodah had thrashed only privately, only briefly. He had. And that was reminder enough that the boy - that loathsome being Nodah had once been in a life past - remained within him.
There wasn’t time to contemplate the riddle; people were stepping forward to Yayo Fiji’s desk. When it came to Nodah’s turn, he kept his eyes on the elf’s tapered fingers as he typed. “Nodah Listig. Human. Gravitin. Rank A.” Blue eyes flashed green at Yayo Fiji. “Though you might know that, seeing as you did just assign us our ranks at the gate.” He received a bright chuckle in return - the kind that compels you to tuck into the pocket of a summer coat, so that you might retrieve it while winter rages and feel your centre warm again - and Nodah allowed a smirk. “Magical History, as well as Potion Making.”
“Welcome to Rosewood, Mr Listig,” declared Yayo Fiji, his voice embroiled in warmth, soft and gentle as cotton. Nodah could learn to be fond of the man who ran the school. He held out an open palm to receive his necklace. Minute gold links joined hands to form a thin circuitous chain that glittered. The gold pendant was moulded to be a bird. At first glance, it took the specific shape of a lark, limitless and immortalised in a laugh. But Nodah peered closer, and the outstretched wingspan and hooked beak came together, like pieces of a puzzle, to form an eagle instead; frozen in mid-flight and mid-caw; no larger than half his thumb; cut from winking gold with intricate details, easy to overlook but combining to please the sight. A masterpiece, and no less.
He caught Yayo’s eyes as he slipped the necklace over his head. Tucked beneath his shirt, the kiss of gold felt cool against his heartbeat. “Thank you.” Nodah said, sincerity tasting odd on his tongue, before walking to the portal. As he waited for the next ride up to the tenth floor, he wondered at the reflection he had seen beneath the pendant’s unblemished golden surface.
With a small sound of surprise in the back of his throat, Nodah lurched forward, and had to maintain his balance by rocking back on the balls of his feet. He felt his muscles tense without volunteer, as hands slithered around his middle, entrapping him in their iniquitous hold. He lost his breath for a moment, the air had thickened. In the corner of his eye, a wispy strand of blue hair waved like a ribbon.
“Pardon the intrusion,” he heard a girl say. Fingers found his iced skin beneath his shirt. Their tips felt sunbaked. His jaw locked almost painfully, Nodah’s eyelids fluttered closed, the warm press of a body against his stiff back. It would be the easiest thing to throw this girl off of him, and send her sprawling to the dirt, leave an impression or two as due penalty for her callous infraction. But that was un-chivalrous, and recollections of the gallantry lessons his mother had drilled into him with her brittle voice hammered a dull ache in his head, driving him to maddening confusion. Preservation, or patience? Retaliation, or restraint?
Nodah’s eyes sprang open. They burned in their sockets, turned the warmest ocher, with a frozen nugget of ice encased in each center of their heat. “Of course,” he lied breathily, forcing his muscles to relax beneath the girl's blanketing warmth. Nodah's mask of indifference returned to him, betraying not a trace of the upset that hadn't roots in the risqué nature of the druid’s actions. His elbow was touched, and no inspection was required to know that the girl had healed the superficial scratch. A druid, then, and a succubus as well.
Once she pranced away to the pixie, Nodah felt true relief. He straightened to his feet, and when the pixie was returned to the world of the living - leaving with haste - Nodah turned to the succubus.
“My thanks, fair lady,” he murmured. Despite this, the flecks of cold in his irises began to burgeon, unbidden. Like weeds, their crystal tendrils overran his pupils, until wintry blue had besieged what had been tawny eyes. At odds with his gaze, Nodah released a wane smile. "Though I must ask that you keep your affections away from a bashful man. You are beautiful; I find myself undeserving," glibly, he said. Poisonous thoughts rose like fumes in his mind, intangible to only him. His eyes were the only indications that they existed at all. Cast yourself upon me once more, and you shan't find me clement. This, he kept to himself. He must. Nodah did not burn bridges - be they inflammably wooden or crumbling stone - before he'd crossed them.
Nodah held the succubus' gaze a second longer, before turning to walk, his strides long. "A good day." By the time he came to the building, his broiling stomach had settled.
He saw that the pixie had unlocked the doors, and Nodah slipped in after him. With a light “Hm,” of appraisal, he raised his vision to the ceiling, sweeping downwards and taking in the extravagant interior. He tossed a glance at the queue of people he joined, heard Yayo Fiji address the pixie, and the pixie leave high-spirited, a Nocturne in his wake.
Nodah slid into place behind a horned demon and a youth on rollerblades – what curious company Rosewood kept – and fingered the strap of his bag, hands working restlessly as he amassed his thoughts (a nasty business). For several heartbeats in that copse of trees, he had been a skittish colt, vulnerable to the harmless, and which startled at every touch. That feeble cloak which had draped heavily over Nodah – atrophying his muscles and robbing his strength – had not only laid Nodah as bare as was conceivable, but had also brought forth memories of a scrawny youth, whom Nodah spent every waking moment running away from, but could never outpace and evade. The boy refused adamantly to be evicted, to be buried. In eternal preference to the cloak, Nodah donned his mask; yet, at times, the reins slipped from his knuckles, and he was forced to flounder and grope the floor for them, like a crippled beggar without his crutches. It did not matter that Nodah had thrashed only privately, only briefly. He had. And that was reminder enough that the boy - that loathsome being Nodah had once been in a life past - remained within him.
There wasn’t time to contemplate the riddle; people were stepping forward to Yayo Fiji’s desk. When it came to Nodah’s turn, he kept his eyes on the elf’s tapered fingers as he typed. “Nodah Listig. Human. Gravitin. Rank A.” Blue eyes flashed green at Yayo Fiji. “Though you might know that, seeing as you did just assign us our ranks at the gate.” He received a bright chuckle in return - the kind that compels you to tuck into the pocket of a summer coat, so that you might retrieve it while winter rages and feel your centre warm again - and Nodah allowed a smirk. “Magical History, as well as Potion Making.”
“Welcome to Rosewood, Mr Listig,” declared Yayo Fiji, his voice embroiled in warmth, soft and gentle as cotton. Nodah could learn to be fond of the man who ran the school. He held out an open palm to receive his necklace. Minute gold links joined hands to form a thin circuitous chain that glittered. The gold pendant was moulded to be a bird. At first glance, it took the specific shape of a lark, limitless and immortalised in a laugh. But Nodah peered closer, and the outstretched wingspan and hooked beak came together, like pieces of a puzzle, to form an eagle instead; frozen in mid-flight and mid-caw; no larger than half his thumb; cut from winking gold with intricate details, easy to overlook but combining to please the sight. A masterpiece, and no less.
He caught Yayo’s eyes as he slipped the necklace over his head. Tucked beneath his shirt, the kiss of gold felt cool against his heartbeat. “Thank you.” Nodah said, sincerity tasting odd on his tongue, before walking to the portal. As he waited for the next ride up to the tenth floor, he wondered at the reflection he had seen beneath the pendant’s unblemished golden surface.
Isabelle Chia
Cafe
Isabelle could not restrain the unabashed beam that broke through at Elise's words. "Will you?" she said, relief and glee combining to make her voice breathy. "Thank you, that's very kind of you!" She glanced down at herself and the canvas bag she was toting, taking a moment to thank whatever deity there was that Elise was helpful to a mere stranger. "I have to settle into a dormitory, I suppose." A crease formed between her eyebrows as she frowned, and then looked up to the taller girl. "But should I register to someone beforehand?"
Shaking her head, Isabelle laughed a small laugh. "I apologise, you may have to guide me by the hand through this school for now. I hope that's all right with you," she said, as it occurred to her that Elise's time might not be hers to take. "Do you have a match?" she asked, looking around the cafe.
@Konica
Cafe
Isabelle could not restrain the unabashed beam that broke through at Elise's words. "Will you?" she said, relief and glee combining to make her voice breathy. "Thank you, that's very kind of you!" She glanced down at herself and the canvas bag she was toting, taking a moment to thank whatever deity there was that Elise was helpful to a mere stranger. "I have to settle into a dormitory, I suppose." A crease formed between her eyebrows as she frowned, and then looked up to the taller girl. "But should I register to someone beforehand?"
Shaking her head, Isabelle laughed a small laugh. "I apologise, you may have to guide me by the hand through this school for now. I hope that's all right with you," she said, as it occurred to her that Elise's time might not be hers to take. "Do you have a match?" she asked, looking around the cafe.
@Konica
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