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Tentatively interested :) still looking the ooc over
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- Qia 5 yrs ago
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PrinceAlexus,
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Status
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1 day ago
Current
Why do all good things come to an end?
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likes
6 days ago
I can't believe I binge watched this show. But damn Dark is so good.
23 days ago
Or maybe melons>>> lemons?
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23 days ago
God now I have Daddy Cop stuck in my head. My fault xD
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24 days ago
And gave a big 'ol grin at the camera too. "Hey Drake." LMAO
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Bio
Hi, Qia here <3. I'm a gamer and RP fan just looking to have a good time.
Most Recent Posts
Interactions: Loni (@FernStone)
Elena let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she watched Luciana curl deeper into her mother’s embrace as if the very world outside that warmth ceased to exist. “I’ll take it as a yes, then.” Her gaze lingered for a moment, absorbing the tenderness of the scene—one she had no part in but somehow felt tethered to. Then, a soft breath slipped past her lips as she took a step back toward the door. “I’ll text you. And if I ever need anything, I’ll know where to find you.”
With a final nod, she pulled open the door and stepped out, leaving behind the new connection that, somehow, felt like it had been waiting to happen.
The transition back into the hallway was a sudden severance, however. The air was cooler and thinner as if the walls themselves exhaled in relief at her departure. Alone now, she felt the slow ebb of adrenaline, the tide withdrawing and leaving behind something restless and raw. A quiet itch crawled along the edges of her mind, a thing with claws that refused to be dismissed.
It wasn’t just the fight. Wasn’t just the aftermath.
It was the why.
The bakery hadn’t been chosen at random. It couldn't have been. Beasts didn’t just prowl into the city on a whim, and even if they did, a modest bakery wasn’t exactly a beacon for carnage. There were better targets—crowded districts, places brimming with movement and magic, places that mattered in the grander scheme of things. So why there? Why then? The question lodged itself in her mind like a splinter, small but impossible to ignore.
Elijah had been thinking it too, she realized. And if she was being honest, she wasn’t ready to let it go either.
Her feet slowed at the building’s exit, her breath curling faintly in the crisp air as she weighed her options. She could go home, let the whole thing settle, but that wasn’t her style. Not when there were still questions.
With a quiet sigh, she adjusted the strap of her bag and turned on her heel, retracing the path that had led her here in the first place.
Back to the bakery.
Maybe she wouldn’t find anything useful. Maybe the place would be locked up, closed off, swept clean of any trace of what had happened. But then again… maybe it wouldn’t.
And maybe she wasn’t the only one who wanted answers.
With a final nod, she pulled open the door and stepped out, leaving behind the new connection that, somehow, felt like it had been waiting to happen.
The transition back into the hallway was a sudden severance, however. The air was cooler and thinner as if the walls themselves exhaled in relief at her departure. Alone now, she felt the slow ebb of adrenaline, the tide withdrawing and leaving behind something restless and raw. A quiet itch crawled along the edges of her mind, a thing with claws that refused to be dismissed.
It wasn’t just the fight. Wasn’t just the aftermath.
It was the why.
The bakery hadn’t been chosen at random. It couldn't have been. Beasts didn’t just prowl into the city on a whim, and even if they did, a modest bakery wasn’t exactly a beacon for carnage. There were better targets—crowded districts, places brimming with movement and magic, places that mattered in the grander scheme of things. So why there? Why then? The question lodged itself in her mind like a splinter, small but impossible to ignore.
Elijah had been thinking it too, she realized. And if she was being honest, she wasn’t ready to let it go either.
Her feet slowed at the building’s exit, her breath curling faintly in the crisp air as she weighed her options. She could go home, let the whole thing settle, but that wasn’t her style. Not when there were still questions.
With a quiet sigh, she adjusted the strap of her bag and turned on her heel, retracing the path that had led her here in the first place.
Back to the bakery.
Maybe she wouldn’t find anything useful. Maybe the place would be locked up, closed off, swept clean of any trace of what had happened. But then again… maybe it wouldn’t.
And maybe she wasn’t the only one who wanted answers.
Dare to be brave, dare to venture, dare to go where no leader has gone before~
<Snipped quote by Estylwen>
Sounds like a trap.
I mean...what's the worst that could happen? :)
Oh wonderful~ @ERode, you can make Vincent's beating even more severe now!
Edit:
Take us for a ride, Sporko. 🤩
How is everyone doing? ;)
I'm hoping to unveil collabs with Flux tomorrow or the day after, and the White Pine collab doc is still going strong! Though, if anyone wants to help ERode, they might need it. ;>
I mean Bella and crew should still be there/I'm always down to write/collab more. :)
A
A barely had time to parse the discord before the world around her unravelled into sheer bedlam.
The shriek of AE rifles detonated through the air, each shot punctuated by bursts of searing light. Ghost Corps answered in kind, their retaliation swift and brutal. Bodies crumpled on both sides, lifeblood spilling onto scorched earth as the acrid stench of burning flesh and spent gunpowder thickened the air. The heat clung to her skin, feverish and suffocating, as if the very atmosphere recoiled from the carnage.
She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath until VV moved.
Her friend’s parting glance and words struck like a verdict.
We’re definitely not.
Then VV was gone—peeling away from the vehicle, her presence unravelling into something vast and insidious. Shadows coiled around her, slithering toward Vin like living tendrils, responding to her outstretched hand with eerie sentience. In an instant, the darkness closed around him, unyielding, an executioner’s grip made manifest.
A’s pulse thundered against her ribs, her body caught between instinct and hesitation. But before reason could intervene—before doubt could sink its teeth into her resolve—she was moving too.
Her boots struck the ground hard as she vaulted from the jeep, her body coiled tight with urgency. Gunfire split the air, hot metal slicing past her ears in erratic, deadly whines. Savio’s inferno pulsed outward in waves of molten gold and black, distorting the battlefield into a shifting hellscape. Every breath felt like inhaling embers, scorching her throat as she pushed forward.
Her gaze locked onto VV through the chaos, and she sprinted, weaving between wreckage and fallen bodies.
A twisted her wrist, feeling the hum of her power in her veins, restless, waiting. She skidded to a stop near VV, voice cutting through the chaos with fierce urgency. “How long can you hold him?” she asked, sparing a glance at Vin’s struggling form as he twitched against the suffocating grip of the shadows.
Before VV could answer, another hail of bullets rained toward them. A reacted on instinct, her power surging forward before she could second-guess it. The effort sent a lance of pain through her skull, but she gritted her teeth against the dizziness that followed.
She barely had time to steady herself before speaking again.
“We need to end this. Fast.”
The shriek of AE rifles detonated through the air, each shot punctuated by bursts of searing light. Ghost Corps answered in kind, their retaliation swift and brutal. Bodies crumpled on both sides, lifeblood spilling onto scorched earth as the acrid stench of burning flesh and spent gunpowder thickened the air. The heat clung to her skin, feverish and suffocating, as if the very atmosphere recoiled from the carnage.
She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath until VV moved.
Her friend’s parting glance and words struck like a verdict.
We’re definitely not.
Then VV was gone—peeling away from the vehicle, her presence unravelling into something vast and insidious. Shadows coiled around her, slithering toward Vin like living tendrils, responding to her outstretched hand with eerie sentience. In an instant, the darkness closed around him, unyielding, an executioner’s grip made manifest.
A’s pulse thundered against her ribs, her body caught between instinct and hesitation. But before reason could intervene—before doubt could sink its teeth into her resolve—she was moving too.
Her boots struck the ground hard as she vaulted from the jeep, her body coiled tight with urgency. Gunfire split the air, hot metal slicing past her ears in erratic, deadly whines. Savio’s inferno pulsed outward in waves of molten gold and black, distorting the battlefield into a shifting hellscape. Every breath felt like inhaling embers, scorching her throat as she pushed forward.
Her gaze locked onto VV through the chaos, and she sprinted, weaving between wreckage and fallen bodies.
A twisted her wrist, feeling the hum of her power in her veins, restless, waiting. She skidded to a stop near VV, voice cutting through the chaos with fierce urgency. “How long can you hold him?” she asked, sparing a glance at Vin’s struggling form as he twitched against the suffocating grip of the shadows.
Before VV could answer, another hail of bullets rained toward them. A reacted on instinct, her power surging forward before she could second-guess it. The effort sent a lance of pain through her skull, but she gritted her teeth against the dizziness that followed.
She barely had time to steady herself before speaking again.
“We need to end this. Fast.”
Fire post, Herald! Now it's just Qia, then I'll be my turn again. :>
I should have my post out hopefully tonight.
Good news, Lougham and Riverbend are essentially done,it's just White Pine now. :>
Now, I have a strong feeling we are going to want to do some more actions this day IC-wise, like checking out the warehouse officially in Heavy Crossguard. Would we like today to be in two parts? Like, conclude the wars, then I'll give points and make it evening? Or I can give points and make it the next day, entirely up to you guys. :>
Either or works for me. Based on what happens in White Pine especially there's a lot I can do in either case.
Location: Eye of the Beholder
Interactions/Mentions: Sya (@PrinceAlexus)
Thalia watched the Blightborn woman carefully, arms loosely crossed, her weight shifting slightly as Sya addressed Lark first. The innkeeper’s attempt at friendliness was… unexpected, but not unwelcome.
Lark, as ever, remained unruffled. He regarded Sya with the same equanimity he offered all strangers—his head tilting thoughtfully, ears flicking like the soft flutter of a candle’s flame. A subtle twitch ran through his tail, but there was no telltale bristle, no wary withdrawal. He had been reared amid the restless stir of farmsteads, accustomed to the mingled scent of beasts and earth, to hands both rough and gentle. If he harboured an opinion on Sya’s special attributes, he kept it well-guarded beneath his thick coat.
Thalia, however, was still adjusting to the sheer oddity of Dawnhaven. Back home, Blightborn weren’t exactly common company, nor were they welcome in all honesty.
“Good?” Thalia echoed dryly, glancing at Lark before returning her gaze to Sya. “He’s more useful than most men I’ve met, but he knows that already.”
Lark let out a chuff as if confirming the statement.
The mention of gold earned Sya the faintest smirk, the corner of Thalia’s lips curving upward. “And yet, I’ve met men who’d do exactly that. Charge you to get in, charge you to get out. Swindlers tend to be the most resourceful people alive.”
There was an easy confidence in her voice, but her mind remained fixed on the innkeeper’s earlier words. It’s a real alarm. It’s not a drill. Thalia had suspected as much, but to hear it confirmed was like a hammer driving a nail deeper into the back of her skull.
An attack inside the town walls. And they’d only just gotten to the place too.
Still, there was little merit in prying when Sya had already drawn a firm line in the dirt. No one in. No one out. Which meant that for the moment, Thalia was trapped.
She loathed the feeling.
“Morning at most, then,” she murmured, half to Sya, half to herself. That meant waiting. And waiting, in her book, was only a shade better than being caught unarmed.
But then—abruptly—the conversation veered, snapping to something wholly different with the enthusiasm of a cart careening down an unexpected incline. Breakfast ingots.
Thalia blinked. The sheer absurdity of it, juxtaposed against their prior exchange, nearly forced a laugh from her throat. Instead, she exhaled a soft breath, something between amusement and bemusement, levelling Sya with a look that was as much incredulous as it was vaguely entertained.
“You do realize that sounds like something you’d make for horses, don’t you?” Her tone was dry, but not cruel. “That said, I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve actually tried one. Who knows? Maybe you’ll revolutionize the way people eat in the morning.”
Thalia tilted her head slightly, watching as Sya moved. “It’s odd,” she mused. “I half-expected this place to be more on edge. Instead, I’m being offered baked goods.”
Lark, as ever, remained unruffled. He regarded Sya with the same equanimity he offered all strangers—his head tilting thoughtfully, ears flicking like the soft flutter of a candle’s flame. A subtle twitch ran through his tail, but there was no telltale bristle, no wary withdrawal. He had been reared amid the restless stir of farmsteads, accustomed to the mingled scent of beasts and earth, to hands both rough and gentle. If he harboured an opinion on Sya’s special attributes, he kept it well-guarded beneath his thick coat.
Thalia, however, was still adjusting to the sheer oddity of Dawnhaven. Back home, Blightborn weren’t exactly common company, nor were they welcome in all honesty.
“Good?” Thalia echoed dryly, glancing at Lark before returning her gaze to Sya. “He’s more useful than most men I’ve met, but he knows that already.”
Lark let out a chuff as if confirming the statement.
The mention of gold earned Sya the faintest smirk, the corner of Thalia’s lips curving upward. “And yet, I’ve met men who’d do exactly that. Charge you to get in, charge you to get out. Swindlers tend to be the most resourceful people alive.”
There was an easy confidence in her voice, but her mind remained fixed on the innkeeper’s earlier words. It’s a real alarm. It’s not a drill. Thalia had suspected as much, but to hear it confirmed was like a hammer driving a nail deeper into the back of her skull.
An attack inside the town walls. And they’d only just gotten to the place too.
Still, there was little merit in prying when Sya had already drawn a firm line in the dirt. No one in. No one out. Which meant that for the moment, Thalia was trapped.
She loathed the feeling.
“Morning at most, then,” she murmured, half to Sya, half to herself. That meant waiting. And waiting, in her book, was only a shade better than being caught unarmed.
But then—abruptly—the conversation veered, snapping to something wholly different with the enthusiasm of a cart careening down an unexpected incline. Breakfast ingots.
Thalia blinked. The sheer absurdity of it, juxtaposed against their prior exchange, nearly forced a laugh from her throat. Instead, she exhaled a soft breath, something between amusement and bemusement, levelling Sya with a look that was as much incredulous as it was vaguely entertained.
“You do realize that sounds like something you’d make for horses, don’t you?” Her tone was dry, but not cruel. “That said, I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve actually tried one. Who knows? Maybe you’ll revolutionize the way people eat in the morning.”
Thalia tilted her head slightly, watching as Sya moved. “It’s odd,” she mused. “I half-expected this place to be more on edge. Instead, I’m being offered baked goods.”
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