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The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Curseproof

• NAME: Adrianna “Adri” (or “80”) Blake
• AGE: 32
• CONCEPT: curseproof police officer
• BACKGROUND: Adrianna’s parents both held disdain for the criminal justice system (her mother is a visible minority, her father was a delinquent in his youth) so she decided to Be The Change she wanted to see in the world. She went to university and double majored in criminal psychology and police studies. She thought she wanted to be a lawyer, but her time in school made her realize that she wanted to actually be right there in the thick of things, and possibly be able to actually do something, which led to her applying to the police department after she graduated.
  
  She had been a police officer for almost five years and had recently received her first transfer into the Homicide unit of her department when The Event happened. She and her partner of three months, Miles Kendall, were investigating a murder-suicide and it turned out to not be just an ordinary dispute. A cursed object had found its way into the possession of the perpetrator and had caused him to carry out the brutal actions he did. (At the time, of course, she didn’t know this.) It was the kind of object that would work its magic on anyone that opened it… and she and her partner both did.
  
  They both started seeing things and hearing voices that weren’t there, their torture increasing over the course of seven days. At the end of it, Adri woke up feeling like a fog had been lifted from her. Her partner, on the other hand, called her with a cryptic goodbye, and luckily she managed to get to him before his family did- she was the only other person that was around for him to try to kill before he ate his gun.
  
  The Sunday Club was there to cover everything up, and that was when she made the switch. She is a go-to for cursed objects, but enjoys the everyday work just as much. She is still Auntie Adri to the Kendall kids, and is still friends with his widow.
• PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: 5’ 6” with an athletic figure. She is on the smaller side, but she’s pretty sturdy (she keeps up with her police judo to this day). She has straight dark auburn hair that goes to her waist; she tries to wear it down sometimes, but inevitably it ends up tied or piled up somehow to get it out of the way. Her eyes are the colour of amber.
  
  Her favoured outfits are a fun tee shirt over tactical pants or a tactical skirt (she likes outfits that are cute and functional!), or “hungover fourth year college student” (consisting of an oversized hoodie and sweatpants with cuffs, the cuffs are a non-negotiable). When she has to be in uniform, she has it immaculate.
  
  She doesn’t use a lot of makeup, but she’s usually wearing something- colourful eyeliner or a lip colour in line with what she's feeling any given day.
• POWERS AND SKILLS:
  CURSEPROOF: Cursed objects have no direct physical effect on her, and mental effects are diminished. Any effects they might bring upon others when triggered by her do not happen. Anything she might be led to do to herself of to someone else doesn’t happen.
  
  FEAR IMMUNITY: Not so much a power as a necessary development considering what she’s seen. She has been through multiple instances of entities playing mind games with her for days and thus has nerves of steel when it comes to the supernatural and bizarre situations. (Of course, she is still afraid in other situations- probably even more afraid in some of them now, now that she knows about the world behind the world).
  
  MAGIC RESISTANCE: She's noticed that magic sometimes just doesn't seem to affect her the way it does everyone else. Injuries from magic aren't as severe; mental effects aren't as pronounced.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Curseproof

• NAME: Adrianna “Adri” (or “80”) Blake
• AGE: 32
• CONCEPT: curseproof police officer
• BACKGROUND: Adrianna’s parents both held disdain for the criminal justice system (her mother is a visible minority, her father was a delinquent in his youth) so she decided to Be The Change she wanted to see in the world. She went to university and double majored in criminal psychology and police studies. She thought she wanted to be a lawyer, but her time in school made her realize that she wanted to actually be right there in the thick of things, and possibly be able to actually do something, which led to her applying to the police department after she graduated.
  
  She had been a police officer for almost five years and had recently received her first transfer into the Homicide unit of her department when The Event happened. She and her partner of three months, Miles Kendall, were investigating a murder-suicide and it turned out to not be just an ordinary dispute. A cursed object had found its way into the possession of the perpetrator and had caused him to carry out the brutal actions he did. (At the time, of course, she didn’t know this.) It was the kind of object that would work its magic on anyone that opened it… and she and her partner both did.
  
  They both started seeing things and hearing voices that weren’t there, their torture increasing over the course of seven days. At the end of it, Adri woke up feeling like a fog had been lifted from her. Her partner, on the other hand, called her with a cryptic goodbye, and luckily she managed to get to him before his family did- she was the only other person that was around for him to try to kill before he ate his gun.
  
  The Sunday Club was there to cover everything up, and that was when she made the switch. She is a go-to for cursed objects, but enjoys the everyday work just as much. She is still Auntie Adri to the Kendall kids, and is still friends with his widow.
• PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: 5’ 6” with an athletic figure. She is on the smaller side, but she’s pretty sturdy (she keeps up with her police judo to this day). She has straight dark auburn hair that goes to her waist; she tries to wear it down sometimes, but inevitably it ends up tied or piled up somehow to get it out of the way. Her eyes are the colour of amber.
  
  Her favoured outfits are a fun tee shirt over tactical pants or a tactical skirt (she likes outfits that are cute and functional!), or “hungover fourth year college student” (consisting of an oversized hoodie and sweatpants with cuffs, the cuffs are a non-negotiable). When she has to be in uniform, she has it immaculate.
  
  She doesn’t use a lot of makeup, but she’s usually wearing something- colourful eyeliner or a lip colour in line with what she's feeling any given day.
• POWERS AND SKILLS:
  CURSEPROOF: Cursed objects have no direct physical effect on her, and mental effects are diminished. Any effects they might bring upon others when triggered by her do not happen. Anything she might be led to do to herself of to someone else doesn’t happen.
  
  FEAR IMMUNITY: Not so much a power as a necessary development considering what she’s seen. She has been through multiple instances of entities playing mind games with her for days and thus has nerves of steel when it comes to the supernatural and bizarre situations. (Of course, she is still afraid in other situations- probably even more afraid in some of them now, now that she knows about the world behind the world).
  
  MAGIC RESISTANCE: She's noticed that magic sometimes just doesn't seem to affect her the way it does everyone else. Injuries from magic aren't as severe; mental effects aren't as pronounced.

Paranormal Detectives

Also interested :)

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

Charynrae had heard of Vaasa and its empty expanse. It almost felt like home to her; just like the Underdark, it was cold and damp and little would grow. Despite all it lacked, the landscape had its own, strange beauty.

There was still a part of her that was wary of Amal. He had not killed her, but that could simply be because it was helpful to travel with someone when traversing the wilderness. And yet she trusted him more than she would have trusted any companion in the Underdark; utility could not always save you down there.

He was just as accustomed to discomfort as she was, it seemed, not that that was much of a surprise considering what she knew about him. What was a surprise was that he almost seemed to want her around. Truth be told, she was glad for it, not that she would admit it. This was possibly the least lonely she had felt in her entire life.

She squinted at the structure in the distance. “I will take your word for it,” she said. Between the light and the distance she was sure to get a headache if she stared at the wall for too long from here; at least the stone was dark, for pale colours were yet another thing her eyes did not quite like.

With the wisps of silver that peeked out from beneath the hood of her makeshift cloak, she might have simply been an old woman (and indeed by human standards she was). As her companion had discovered, she carefully rebraided her hair every morning. It was fortunate that she needed so little sleep, being a Drow, because some days she took quite some time on her work. Never enough to cut into their travel hours, she was careful of that; there was so little daylight as it was, and they needed it for travel.

“No, I will keep myself cloaked,” she murmured, ensuring her hands were tucked away and her face well hidden. “Just because I can survive out there does not mean it is enjoyable. You can do whatever talking is necessary, I presume.”

DeoXys: A next gen X-Men/Comic Superhero RP

I would be interested in taking on Milele Monroe if you end up getting this up and running!

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

Charynrae was precise, as evidenced by the crossbow bolt in the eye of the orc. Precision was key to many things in the Underdark, at least in her eyes. She sauntered over to the freshly dead orc first to retrieve the bolt, wiping any remaining matter off onto the corpse. She frowned down upon it- though she was good at it, she did not particularly enjoy killing. After that, it was over to the crates. She grabbed the dagger first- the more weapons, the better.

"I aimed for my spell to cause an echo. If all goes as it should, we have more time than you think," she said, her stance and movements projecting calm as she stuffed hardtack into her satchel. "Or he could already be frustrated and coming back this way in a rage." She would have heard if the ogre was that incensed by now, though of course, with them it was always a risk. "I suppose we will know soon enough."

Another crate held a variety of root vegetables and small bags of dried herbs. And, curiously, a bag with a small handful of polished stones, which she also took, of course. It could have been mistaken for a bag of herbs at first glance, though its weight gave away that it was not for culinary purposes.

She followed his movements, grabbing the remaining tarp, turning right into the path Amal had cleared for them... and the sunlight. She had adjusted well enough while it was just in the room, but directly in her eyes? She stood frozen, wide-eyed for a moment. The flash of fear was gone from her face as quickly as it came. "I cannot see," she hissed as she started moving tentatively towards the exit. She had some understanding of blindsight fighting, but she was no expert and this was a door she needed to get to, not a brawl.

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

Charynrae was making a mental map, envisioning the entire room in her mind based off Amal's description and the quick look she had taken. She could handle the unknown, but it was always better to gather information first. "Of course I do. It will be child's play."

Every drow was a warrior; she was a noble, so she also had to be a tactician. Not that this was a situation that required a particularly refined skill set. It was simple: Lure the ogre to the path on the right. Two orcs left. Amal would take whichever was closer, she would take the other.

She crept up to the passageway, locking her eyes on a specific spot in the right tunnel. "Ul'trin", she whispered, and just like that- voices in the tunnel. The ogre stood, club now in his hand.

"Who goes there?"

She had a moment of fear that the ogre had spotted her, but he turned to the tunnel. The voices stopped briefly. And then there they were again, this time, a little frantic, a little farther. (She wanted it to sound like some people trying to escape. Just like them.) The ogre growled, his grip tightening on his club. "Show yourself!" he bellowed as he stomped off into the right tunnel.

She readied her crossbow.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Go.

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

“Of course. I meant cities that are trade centres,” she said. Humans had a peculiar habit of apologizing when in her situation, even when there was no reason for remorse. Charynrae did not apologize.

She would have offered her cloak had she thought of it earlier. Next time. (Why did she think there would be a next time?) Having lived in a cavern most of her life, and being a drow, she knew the cold would bother her less than her companion. Much less, if his skin was any indication. Humans only became that colour in the sun. He was right, though, that she would need something more substantial if they were to make their escape.

Despite her time aboveground, Charynrae still had much difficulty with the sun. Her eyes narrowed against the daylight, her vision slowly, very slowly adjusting. Fortunately, the things-in-the-room were moving; that was always the first to adjust. She took no more than a quick glance around the corner after discovering the light.

Two orc. One ogre. Correct? she signed to Amal. She could not be entirely sure, but context suggested to her that she was indeed correct. Anywhere to lead them? If she could draw a couple of them off, they might be able to take out the one left behind. She carefully pulled out her crossbow, her movements almost silent. That was supposing someone stayed to watch the door. A distraction would still give them the upper hand.

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

Ah, the opinions on drow. Charynrae had experienced a variety of opinion in her time above ground. There were the cautious, who would be polite in public but concerned behind closed doors. And the outright fearful, who would freeze, or run, as if she were a predator. The firebrands that were convinced that all Drow were the enemy. The curious (mostly children). The ones who desired drow (sometimes, an incredibly easy way to make money).

The precious few that ignored drow the way they ignored everyone else were a treasure.

She had known of some cities not being open to all, but had not realized the extent. "I assumed that only the important cities were done as such," she said. It was no real surprise. The only real difference between beings above and below the surface were that denizens of the Underdark were honest. No creature of the shadows sincerely pretended to be worthy of trust. Humans, elves, what-have-you on the other hand- they would swear up and down they would never do you harm while plotting how to stab you in the back.

Even though she had seen many since leaving the Underdark, it took a moment for her to picture it: blue sky. Faerie fire could be blue, so it was one of the easier colours to place. Purple and green, too, and she knew yellow well only because it was almost painful to look at in many of its forms. She could spot the faintest difference in shades, but naming the tone of a thing was always a challenge. There was little variation in colour in the dark, and so it was not used as often to describe things, nor did it have to be as precise as it sometimes was on the surface.

She pondered their situation as they walked in silence. She had been walking in the shadows that fell across a wide path in a forested area, near a stream, but not the open water. She, too, remembered a flash; it had blinded her. And then… nothing.

“Are you not cold, Amal?” she asked, glancing back at him. He was incredibly bare for a human in these conditions; perhaps his bulk helped ward off the cold, but usually they all bundled up regardless. Her eyes flitted across the scars on his chest before she turned back to lead the way again. Scars in the Underdark brought mixed feelings to many, a sign that you weren’t fast enough, but you had survived.

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

She caught the satchel with ease. “I will not be trusting you,” she said as if the idea was preposterous. For a Drow, it was. She wasn’t entirely certain their kind had the capacity for trust at all. “But you are also of no concern to me. I will lead.” She had been following him for far too long, and it was better for the both of them if she went first, since she could actually see. She didn’t need him walking into a pit and making noise that might draw anything in the tunnels near.

She nodded at his gesture, readying an axe and turning to the exit. She could not help but be impressed by the ease with which he had picked up the signs- nor could she understand why she couldn’t let the fact go. “If you require more light at any time, tell me. If conditions permit I can create some.”

She gave him a look at his offer. Humans generally had no interest associating with the Drow outside of a handful of situations. “Hm,” was all she had to say. She was not interested in accepting a drink with him, but it could prove useful, so she couldn’t very well refuse it outright, not at the moment. “Why would the city not let you in?” she asked, sounding taken aback. He had been a thief, she supposed, but it seemed he had enough skill that she imagined he would avoid detection.

As she walked, she walked herself through what had happened. They were in some castle- Castle Perilous, in Vaasa. In Zhengyi’s lair. The goblins served a Master Fel’dregar, who served Master Zhengyi… who Fel’dregar was trying to… use?

“I think we were taken by a necromancer.”

He had been on a galley in the Moonsea, going away from Mulmaster. She was near the coast of the Moonsea heading towards Elmwood.

“What is the last thing you remember doing exactly? Before here, I mean."