PatientBean

ʜᴀᴡᴛʜᴏʀɴᴇ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍʏ [A Murder Mystery, Supernatural Dark Academia RP]

This sounds cool. Putting my interest forward

Power Rangers - Legacy of the Dragon

Hi, I'm into this :)

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Forest Interactions ⋗ Zhalia @Benzaiten, Simon @Prosaic, Phalko @CasLink, Scott @Blizz School of Magic ⋗ Enchantment, Abjuration & Divination Items ⋗ N/A

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Manon traversed the forest to the best of her ability, but the terrain was not ideal for a chase. They had gone in here to collect ingredients and ended up on the run. She hadn't expected the surrounding area to be dangerous, but she had grown soft. What would her family think? She chastised herself, vowing that if she survived this ordeal she would devote herself to improving her ability to combat dangers.

As she ran along with the others, Zhalia stopped. Or rather, fell. Manon turned quickly to help the girl up, eyeing the creature that seemed to move with speed and precision. "A hunter stalking its prey," she thought. However, the girl screamed for them to run. Manon knew it would ensure their survival if they left Zhalia there. The creature would have an easy target. But she knew better. She had no intention of leaving anyone behind.

Thankfully, it seemed Scott had the same idea, helping the girl up to her feet. "We are all leaving this forest," she said to the others. She turned back and began to run forward, waiting for the others to come up. She knew Scott dealing with Simon, so she did her best to stay in-step with him and Zhalia. She prepared to throw up a shield, or heal if need be, but she knew the creature was more cunning. Hopefully, Phalko had found someone in the village and help was coming.

Otherwise, this night would turn into a bloodbath.

Titans Academy

I am scared and mildly aroused.

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Forest Interactions ⋗ Zhalia @Benzaiten, Simon @Prosaic, Phalko @CasLink, Scott @Blizz School of Magic ⋗ Enchantment, Abjuration & Divination Items ⋗ N/A

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14 years ago

Madame Blanchet, a delicate name for a sturdy woman, clapped her walking stick on the board in front of her in a vain attempt to catch the attention of her students. "Attention, s'il vous plaît!" the woman uttered. "What you learn here may save your life." Manon glanced around the room that she sat in with other students, all from prominent families. While most children were taking lessons on history or math, her and her pupils were learning the ins and outs of magic as it applies to this realm. Specifically, the dangers that lurk. Her family felt it best that her and her siblings all go through this as members of the court that aid in protecting France.

"When you encounter an enemy that is more powerful than you, that you know little of, that no amount of magic or weaponry can defeat, it is best to retreat." Snickers were heard around the room. Manon assumed it was due to the nature of France not being a country known for its bravery. Most associated France with pastries and fashion, overlooking the bloody pages of the history book. Madame Blanchet smacked her stick on the desk in front of her, where two girls sat. They squeaked, eyeing the teacher with a look that said "Do you know who my parents are?" Manon hated them.

Madame Blanchet glared back. "Your lineage means little when your family receives little more than your tattered remains because you chose to joke rather than listen." Madame Blanchet went back to the front, leaving the two girls to look incredulous. Manon smirked.

"Battles may be lost, but wars can be won even so."

---

Present

The creature had attacked the barrier, sending ripples through it. It would not last much longer, if Scott were to be believed. And even then, the necrotic nature of the beast meant that it could still attack them. Phalko ran ahead of them, in what Manon felt was a vain attempt to get help, but retreat was necessary. She wasn't stupid enough to believe they could take on the creature. Simon was in no state. Scott had began to aid him in leaving, allowing Manon to turn and run back towards the keep. There, they could at least figure out what to do next. If the creature had done anything in the meantime, she could help heal and cleanse if need be.

Manon played the situation in her head, like her parents taught her. Realistically, there was little they could do. Manon, as she ran, stuck close to Scott and Simon. The two of them, together, posed a more viable target, especially Simon.

The barrier wouldn't hold longer. They just needed to be farther away when the beast got past it. If they got through this, Manon had many questions for the others.

If they got through this, of course.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

”The Least Of These” - Part 5

Part 5 of a JP/Collab from @Xandrya, @PatientBean, @Bugman, @Gunther, @wanderingwolf, and @sail3695

Quill had set up a station for herself. She provided resources when needed, of course, but that was not the best use of her skillset. Instead, she opted to provide the refugees with something thay maybe had precious few of, if any. Hope. Comfort. Like a therapist, she offered to listen to their problems, their struggles, but also their hopes and dreams. This was different than her usual clientele, of course, but it hit the same veins. People needed to vent. It was all well and good to have a belly full of food and a warm place to sleep, but it meant little if your mind was not free from its hangups also.

Quill was finishing up with one of the refugees, a young woman who has a child and not much else to her name. Quill sympathized with her story. The love can have for a child and the decision to do anything, ANYTHING, to ensure that child had the best possible life. The woman cried a lot and Quill used her skills to provide some comfort to her, through guided meditation and breathing. Soon after, the woman was calmer and left.

Quill glanced around, waiting to see who else would approach her or to see if she could be valuable elsewhere.

Elias had spotted the woman, and seeing she had been chatting everyone she could up he figured that she certainly wouldn’t have anything better to do than helping out his likely difficult request. Approaching her, he repeated the drill of first using his hands to sign “Can you help me?”, and immediately after pulling out his blackboard and chalk to write down a brief message assuming that just like the rest of the crew, she would not be able to read sign language. Thus he presented the chalk markings on his black square reading “DO YOU HAVE A PAGER OR SOMETHING SIMILAR ON BOARD? IT IS VERY DIFFICULT TO COMMUNICATE WITH NONE OF YOU HAVING LEARNED ASL.” He looked up meaningfully, hoping his counterpart would be able to understand his predicament and aid quickly.

Quill watched the man come up to her. Expecting him to say something, it caught her a tad off guard when he started signing to her. She mentally chastised herself for assuming as the man stopped and grabbed a blackboard and wrote on it.

A companion is someone who makes clients feel cared for and relaxed. This often meant that, along with classes on dancing, etiquette, and so on, they were also taught languages. She knew many. ASL was one that some companions scoffed at privately. How many clients would use ASL to speak when it was the action they were after? Sure, some could use it, but they most likely had enough wealth to have technology at their disposal that could communicate if need be.

This man did not strike her as such. So she could imagine his surprise when Quill, doing her best, signed back “I can help you. Please, come sit.” She did not know a lot. She was definitely more well-versed in other languages, but she knew some. She would not speak as to why (that was her own private story) but at least it would help in this instance. She gestured for the man to follow her into a private room, so they could talk and listen privately.

Truth be told the man was the slightest bit surprised at the response he got, but then raising an eyebrow some realization dawned as he cycled through the other bits of information he had regarding his counterpart. Her talkativeness and paired charm, the instant offer to help, and her undeniably broad knowledge… as he concluded her profession, he couldn’t help but shift a little bit uncomfortably from one leg to the other whilst praising God his facial wrap concealed a rather childish blush.

Yet, to the actual contents of her reply was a slightly different response from the man. He had to suppress an urge to pinch the bridge of his nose; while it was always somewhat annoying to be stereotyped as deaf for his use of sign language, it would also be very stupid to show any degree of ingratitude to his spaceborne saviours.

Instead, he simply signed back: “I am mute, but I can hear you, you can speak. I don’t need privacy, I was just hoping you had a pager or similar on board for text to speech. I’m sure you can by now assume the rest of your crew does not have your skill.”

Quill had wrongly assumed the man was deaf and that was on her. “I apologize, my intention may have been good but I still should not have assumed. I am afraid I do not have any such technology on board, but I am sure one of the other crew members here should have something.”

Quill figured that the others wouldn’t know ASL, but surely they had some technological means of communication. Not everyone spoke English or Cantonese. “I am sorry I could not be of help in that matter, but I have been talking to the refugees, listening to their stories and providing what assistance I could. If you would like to share your story, if even for a moment, I would listen. Otherwise, we can see about someone else on the crew having some device for you.”

The galley was full of happy faces as the Captain strode through like a ghost among the living. Each ruddy face was being fed, and Hook was doing his damnedest to make it so–along with the statuesque Imani who looked to be making some of the boys blush. He continued until he found another such vision among the activity: The silent and brutish Anabaptist sat with the beautiful Quill, him making movements with his hands, she comprehending and responding. From a leaning perch, he curiously watched their exchange.

The man waved a hand when the woman apologized, vaguely shorthanding that statement to not bother. When told about talking to listening to stories, he coughed out a suppressed chuckle. All the Anabaptists were glad to tell sob stories it seemed, but Elias? Traveling the stars just like the crew of the China Doll, he certainly didn’t have any to tell. None he’d be happy to, anyway. “Sorry, miss. I’m a bit of an ugly soul, my stories would just ruin your day. Who would have such a bit of electronics, then?”

Quill felt saddened at the man’s words (or rather, hand movements). “Everyone has stories, be they good or bad. You would be surprised at what I have heard and helped others get through. Again, the offer is there if you want it, but I will not force you to share.”

Quill pondered a bit. “I’m fairly certain we have an AI onboard, though I have not spoken to it. I am sure the Captain could allow you to, if asked.”

Cal failed to comprehend the man’s signs, but he did catch Quill’s reply. Seemed to him she might be writing a check she couldn’t cash. Though it was surely true that among the China Doll, S.A.M.N.T.H.A. wasn’t exactly a guarded secret, even if the Captain himself wasn’t one-hundred-percent on all the inner workings of the Alliance-born artificial intelligence. Thus far, SAM had proven she could be trusted, and as Quill pulled toward their common goal here, much the same could be said about the Companion.

Again there was a very brief chuckle, the tongueless sound reminiscent of a coughing fit. “Well thank you but I’ll politely decline. There’s already very healthy ways to deal with trauma like drinking or jumping off a skyscraper.” Elias signed, hoping the bit of gallows humour would be a refusal without insult.

But at the mention of an AI his brow creased. He had served on a pretty damn top of the line boat, and it had nothing of the sort. For a second he considered dismissing it as the woman simply being out of her depth, but given all the things he had seen in the verse he decided to not make the same sort of assumption that lead Quill to believe he was deaf. Looks are deceiving, right?

Instead he simply signed “You mean artificial intelligence? I am something of an Engineer by trade and truth be told I have seen nothing of the sort on most vessels. I’d want to see that, even if just out of professional curiosity.”

Quill could appreciate a good joke, even at the expense of herself. But considering where the refugees had come from and what they had faced, but grew more concerned over the man’s words. “Well, the option is there if you want to use it. We don’t even have to talk. There are other ways to process trauma than speaking about it or ‘jumping off a skyscraper’ as you put it.”

The man seemed interested in the A.I. and Quill felt a bit out of her depth. She hadn’t interacted with the thing thus far and, perhaps, she overextended her reach. “I am afraid that would be the Captain’s decision. I am sure he would be willing to show you if you asked.” Quill was curious about the man’s time as an engineer, but felt it best not to probe him. “Shall we go see him together? Provided there is nothing else you wish to ask of me?”

The man frowned the slightest bit behind his mask at the reproach he got. He didn’t want to be a hardass pretending to be emotionless, but he knew for a fact all the prodding about whatever he had faced wasn’t going to make him feel any better. Hoping to end the subject the way with (admittedly proverbial) silence, he simply went on to the more interesting subject.

“Well, if he could afford the time, this would certainly be something to witness.” He would reply.

The Captain’s mind was made up as he approached Quill and the big fella. Arms crossed, Cal intoned to the Companion, “Can I talk to you a second?” It wasn’t a request, even as his tone did nothing to conceal his ire. He moved a few steps away from Elias as he began his tirade.

“Look, I appreciate what you’re doin’ here for the group, but that don’t change you’re a guest in my house. What and who’s in my house is my business. As I hear ‘discretion’’s one of your buzzwords, I’d prize a mite when a fella I don’t know gets mightily interested in my boat, Dohn luh mah?” (trans. ‘Are we clear?’)

Quill followed the Captain, leaving Elias alone. Given the Captain’s demeanour, she expected he was not pleased with their interaction. However, Quill had done nothing wrong. At least, not to her. So to be told off like a child didn’t sit well.

“Well Captain, I respect your authority. But I would like to point out a few things. As you said, I am a guest on your ship, which I appreciate. I did pay for passage. You came to everyone on the ship asking for help in this matter, both crew and passenger alike. You came to me, specifically, asking for help with a pass. As far as I can see, we have long since moved past me being a simple guest on your ship. I am here offering services to these poor folks, that man included. There is something dark underlying him, but I can’t get him to open up, so I made a suggestion. I had no intention of letting him run amok and had intended to speak to you before I allowed anything. And if we are speaking about discretion, standing close to where we are talking, listening to our conversation falls way out of discretion. I apologize if I am stepping too far, but you asked me for help and I follow through with promises I give, even if my methods don’t align with yours in all the same ways. We want the same thing, even if you can’t see that just yet.”

Quill folded her own arms and looked directly into the Captain’s eyes. “Hope I made that clear enough for you Captain.”

The Captain watched, his arms still folded, as the Companion said her piece. The fire in this one was hot enough to singe, that much was for certain. She made several good points with her assertions, sure, but Cal sensed a fine line between dressing down and her so-called respect for him. The way a teacher might address a student. Or a doctor levels with a patient. All them smarts in her quiver was enough to make a man wall up.

“If you wanted to apologize, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ does the trick. Apology accepted,” he said, with a pat on her pristine arm. With that good and proper captain-ing sorted and stowed, Cal left her side with a nod to the silent giant beside them.

Having stood exactly where he was left, Elias couldn’t exactly hear much, but he certainly wasn’t stupid to not notice the changes in body language and expression among both the Captain and the companion. He would shake his head, realizing that there was no chance that he’d get what he had asked for and thus simply slunk off to the shadows to check up on the other Anabaptists. Well, at least to pass the time there would be the entertainment of trying to figure out if the Anabaptists had been able to discern what Quill’s profession was.

...TO BE CONTINUED…

Titans Academy

_{Location: Midway City, - Michigan}

Episode #3: The War Room

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_{Interaction(s): @Omega Man - The Shield | @Birdboy - Shuriken | @Hillan - Accelerate | @Damo021 - Flamebird | @YourNameHere - Apparition | @Blizz - Shattercrash | @PapaOso - Sacrifice | @Mistress Dizzy - Origami | @Zaibatsu - Gravitas | @rocketrobie2 - Chemaxzord}

Post #3.05: Where Is My Super Suit?

The mission had ended in failure. Well, not a total failure. They managed to get people out, but the bad guy got away, making them look bad. They didn't work together as a team. Hell, one of their own attempted to obliterate the entire building with all of them inside. Did she blame her? If Kennedy was being honest with herself? Yeah. She understood that Shattercrash needed to do that so she didn't get severely injured, but there was another factor. And how long did it take the girl to decide to save her own life at the risk of everyone else?

Perhaps she was looking too much into it. The fact of the matter was...for their first mission, they all sucked.

Kennedy felt a burning shame that didn't dissipate, even when they made it back to the Tower. She more or less kept to herself. She felt sad at not handling things properly, mad that no one listened to each other, and above all...she kind of wanted to go back home and quit playing the hero.

---

To top off how crappy she was feeling, Blitz's father pulled him away. Kennedy didn't even get to say goodbye. She understood, of course, even if it was unfair. Following the others to the War Room, she listened as Cyborg and Arsenal outlined what they would be doing. She felt even worse about herself. Her powers were not combat-intuitive. Turning invisible made for good stealth and defense and seeing the future was great for predicting outcomes, but she had never considered how she would use it in a combat scenario. Thankfully, she at least had some time to think on it as Shattercrash and Shuriken opted to head in.

Kennedy eyed the suit-making procedure with awe. It was kind of awesome to see a super suit made in an instant based on the user's desires. She hadn't thought about what kind of suit she would want.

Once the two went to the War Room to prep for their simulation, Arsenal called for someone else to try the digitizer. Kennedy glanced around, seeing if anyone would jump at the chance. She raised her hand. "I'll do it." She made her way towards it, eyeing Arsenal in case he told her to not even bother.

But he hadn't so she stepped up. She closed her eyes and pictured what suit she would want. She wanted something that would be good for stealth, but also had some flair to it. She pictured a skintight black and gray suit with pink trim and a pink mask to cover her identity. The suit was made of a mix of leather and cotton, offering movement when needed, but mild protection. It served as some defense, but she would have to rely on her powers more to make use of it.

Once the image was set in her mind, the digitizer set to work. She stepped out once it was done and looked at her outfit. She had to admit, it made her feel the tiniest bit better. She still felt like this was a waste for her since she was not combat-ready, but she looked the part.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked no one in particular. She stepped over to the viewing screens to get ready to watch Shattercrash and Shuriken duke it out. She expected Shattercrash to run with it, but she was open to being surprised.

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Forest Interactions ⋗ Zhalia @Benzaiten, Simon @Prosaic, Phalko @CasLink, Scott @Blizz School of Magic ⋗ Enchantment, Abjuration & Divination Items ⋗ N/A

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Manon knew deep within her that there was no way they could fight back against this creature. She had no real offensive magic (though some could be used in a pinch), and she expected that the others didn't have much to help either. Simon even voiced that he didn't fight. She felt a bit of shame coming from a family of well-known protectors of the French countryside and, here she was, faced with danger with no hope of quelling it.

Zhalia, on the other hand, appeared, unlike the others. While she was filled with a deep fear, Zhalia appeared almost....calm? Scott noticed it too and voiced his opinion. Manon glanced at Zhalia, waiting for a response.

"A cloak may not work. If word about this thing is to be believed, the fact we have already seen it means we are in danger. I can also throw up some barriers as backup, but I highly suggest we leave now. The more time we waste, the faster we become prey." Manon stepped back a bit, her eyes still on Zhalia. Waiting for the girl to respond to either the creature or the question posed.

Manon felt unease now. Not just for the creature, but now for those, she was traveling and living with.

The Sunday Group

I'll be getting a post up tomorrow :)

The Witches Of Shipden Peak

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Location ⋗ The Forest Interactions ⋗ Zhalia @Benzaiten, Simon @Prosaic, Phalko @CasLink, Scott @Blizz School of Magic ⋗ Enchantment, Abjuration & Divination Items ⋗ N/A

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Manon filtered out the comments from the others as her Danger Sense continued to run. Manon scanned her surroundings. The forest, often in lore and history, was a place of mystery and danger. How many times had a young girl gone missing only to have her body found in the forest? How many cults have had meetings to discuss dark dealings with their chosen leader in the forest? How many sacrifices to deities beyond their comprehension have happened in a dark forest?

However, the forest, despite its dark setting, did not really frighten Manon. When you grew up with a family o those who often ran towards darkness, you learned that a simple environment could not cause fear.

It was the things the forest hid that one should be afraid of.

As if on cue from some unreliable narrator, the fog around their ankles gave way to a shadow. "No," thought Manon, "Not a shadow. A monster." Before them, the shadow gave way to a form. Manon felt her Danger Sense go ravage. The creature before them appeared like a black dog. Manon called upon some of her knowledge of otherworldly forces, but this being was something the average user, especially one versed in Divination, could recognize. A Black Shuck, often associated with death, meant dark things were on the horizon.

Manon knew they would not be able to fight this thing. Though one of them (the handsome wizard named Scott) had pulled up a shield. Quick thinking, to be sure, but it would not last. "I suggest we leave the forest and tell someone. If this creature is skulking in the forest, it is best if the community is made aware to set up protection." Manon backed up a bit. She glanced at Zhalia, who by all accounts, appeared unfazed by the creature before them. "What is her deal?" Manon thought to herself.

If they had any hopes of surviving this encounter, they needed to be gone before the creature got through that shield.