Actually, thinking it over, can you close Friend and Enemy for me @Mae?
- Last Seen: 7 mos ago
- Old Guild Username: RedXCross
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 290 (0.08 / day)
- VMs: 3
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Username history
- RedXCross 10 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
I feel so attractive right now.
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8 yrs ago
I've been clicking to come back to this page way too often...
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Bio
Writer and lover of writing, the written word is the best way for me to communicate for the words from the tongue may fail me.
Most Recent Posts
Eh, I'll leave all of them open. @Mae
@mae Can you explain to me something pleeeeaasse ? How do I do that Relationship Table thing ? I totally didn't understood what to do...unfortunately :(
You mean the sheet? All you need to do is find the relationships you rolled (which should be on the CS page in the header post) and sort through them, writing up a description for them to the best of your ability. This may involve discussing with other players how the relationship started. Essentially, you can delete the profiles of all the people that you don't know from the main relationship section, and you can delete all the people you do know from the strangers section.
After, this just becomes a place to document the information your character gains about other characters.
Did that clarify things?
Vesper
There really is no limit to the craziness surrounding this place, Vesper thought as a glowing eye emerged behind him. He was just running the mop across the floor and nearly dropped it as the voice boomed through the bar. Quickly, he turned back to Scarper.
”Pleasure to meet you, sir. My name’s Vesper. I’ve been running some odd jobs around here for a couple months now.” he stated brightly.
Vesper would’ve smiled had he a mouth of some kind, but his plasmatic body was still a little bit unusual even to himself. It had taken awhile to control the electricity surging from his body and keep it from severely harming those around him. Shaping the form was still a little beyond him. Having the armor helped to keep it in a humanoid form for the most part (though he still didn’t have legs. He didn’t really see a point in them). Instead, he’d last with just a pair of emotion-charged eyes on his electrically charged body.
The eye’s command seemed to grab Scarper’s attention, so Vesper quietly floated backwards to leave him be, and right before he could take off he heard another voice from behind him.
“Hello—lightning elemental, right?” the voice announced, and immediately Vesper spun back around, keeping the mop close so as to not whack someone with soaked, wet material. Vesper’s eyes widened upon seeing the image of a mostly-human woman with longer hair. The way she stared at him and the questions she asked quickly triggered the idea in his mind that she likely wasn’t human at all.
“The ‘heavens’? I don’t – oh…” Vesper sighed.
This wasn’t the first time he’d run into this situation. It was natural to assume that he was a lightning elemental like every other. He’d heard other airborne species discussing the likes of weather elementals in the skies and the time they spend controlling the natural elements.
His eyes cast a forlorn glow as the entirety of his body seemed to dim ever so slightly.
No. He wasn’t like them.
“I’ve never been in the skies, unfortunately. I’m not… I – I am not an elemental in the ‘natural’ sense, if you know what I mean…"
Thoughts flashed of magic energies and catalysts forging a form from nature. Of unnatural forces shaping lightning.
He thought of That Mage again with a sharp spark of electricity within himself.
Then his eyes perked up again, and luminescence returned to his body, Anyhow, you’re some type of nature-being too, then, right? A sylph, maybe?” he said, “I didn’t recognize it right away, but there’s a bit of ‘wispy-ness’ to you. You look quite… human."
@Dusksong
▶ ▷ ▸ ▹ ► ▻ ▼ ▽ ▾ ▿ ◀ ◁
"1903? Alas, I missed the turn of the century..." Aster sighed, his hand already coursing through is messy hair as he leaped from his pod-thing and landed directly in front of the stout professor.
The man reminded Aster of a good friend from his troupe, an excellent actor and a lover of the "mad scientist" archetype. Aster glanced at his goggled-eyes and grabbed the robe and flung it over his shoulders as he tied the rope loosely around his waste. It was likely the robes of a monk, assuming that this place remained in practice after all of these curious contraptions were implemented everywhere.
Aster wasn't that astute when it came to technology. His father's ships and all the boats from his town were powered by a mix of steam and clockwork, but beyond that he wasn't even sure if his father knew how the boats ran. He always left special effects to the ones who were good at it.
That being said, his eyes meandered around the expansive room as pod upon pod lay in a line, either used already or still containing a for that was potentially like himself: grey, unconscious, waiting.
"I'm not experiencing any headaches of the like, good doctor!" he announced, "Whatever process you executed has succeeded with flying colours! Why, I don't believe I've ever felt this good!"
His mind was reeling! He couldn't wait to start planning his next show, to find the tribe of actors with whom he could perform to his heart's content.
Though his heart slowed down as one question came to his mind. He was already making a few steps towards where he thought the door may be hiding, but this one thought caught him on his heel as he pivoted back to face the good doctor and the other people who've woken up that he'd clearly forgotten about entirely.
"Say, good sir... what is the state of Sink? When I... passed away, the political climate was rather hostile, so to speak. Has it changed? Has the state improved? And more importantly... why are we back?"
The man reminded Aster of a good friend from his troupe, an excellent actor and a lover of the "mad scientist" archetype. Aster glanced at his goggled-eyes and grabbed the robe and flung it over his shoulders as he tied the rope loosely around his waste. It was likely the robes of a monk, assuming that this place remained in practice after all of these curious contraptions were implemented everywhere.
Aster wasn't that astute when it came to technology. His father's ships and all the boats from his town were powered by a mix of steam and clockwork, but beyond that he wasn't even sure if his father knew how the boats ran. He always left special effects to the ones who were good at it.
That being said, his eyes meandered around the expansive room as pod upon pod lay in a line, either used already or still containing a for that was potentially like himself: grey, unconscious, waiting.
"I'm not experiencing any headaches of the like, good doctor!" he announced, "Whatever process you executed has succeeded with flying colours! Why, I don't believe I've ever felt this good!"
His mind was reeling! He couldn't wait to start planning his next show, to find the tribe of actors with whom he could perform to his heart's content.
Though his heart slowed down as one question came to his mind. He was already making a few steps towards where he thought the door may be hiding, but this one thought caught him on his heel as he pivoted back to face the good doctor and the other people who've woken up that he'd clearly forgotten about entirely.
"Say, good sir... what is the state of Sink? When I... passed away, the political climate was rather hostile, so to speak. Has it changed? Has the state improved? And more importantly... why are we back?"
Somehow, that Piper girl weaseled her way in with this Carver, and even more miraculously; she was shirking work to come “assist” in whatever way possible. Honestly, her work ethic disgusted him. If you had no pride in what you were doing there was no point in doing it. Even Carver seemed dedicated to whatever role he’d chosen for himself.
Still, throughout the entire conversation, Chris remained silent and chose instead to get inside his vehicle and at least make sure it was still turning on. When the engine roared to life just as Piper took her motorcycle from out behind the shop, Chris was already beginning to get back on the road, and again he sighed as he headed back in the direction he came from instead of back to the city he called him and the office that he called his work space. His head ached ever so slightly from the previous conversation as one of the veins in his wrist popped out for a moment, but Chris was like an arrowhead. With a target chosen, he was going straight towards it and not stopping for everything.
He didn’t know this “Cutter” fellow. From the sounds of it he was some washed-up human being who stopped be a productive member of society a while ago. Add drunkenness to the profile… Chris didn’t like this guy already, and he hadn’t even met him at this point.
The narrow road spiraled past small, decrepit houses and the occasional local business. The town central needed a fresh coat of paint and some TLC for sure as it felt as though no one had thought of fixing things for years, or rather no one had the money to fix it. Maybe there was one brand-name store sitting around, but Chris was here to do one thing in specific, which is why he pulled back into the parking lot of the police station and took what was probably a few more minutes than he should have to park the vehicle. Piper pulled in beside him, with Carver on the opposite side, but Chris was a few steps ahead of the other too even if they caught up rather quickly. Chris didn’t like working with other people. Regardless of what they’d said or done for him, he still couldn’t trust them. He couldn’t trust anyone, really. Not when all these people were despicable and lazy.
You’re a monster, too… a voice in his head murmured, but he pushed it away as he always did.
The station itself was tiny. A couple of chairs laid out to sit in at the front, next to an old, crochety desk at which one woman in uniform sat. Officer Trish was the junior officer around here, which wasn’t saying much because there were only two of them, but her face was angled and narrow and she seemed dedicated to protecting this hopeless state of decay they called a town. There was a bit of a cubicle divider in the back, as well a hallway of simple tiles that led back to their one holding cell. A coffee machine and a small box of breakfast pastries was sitting behind the reception desk, and, save for the hum of an air conditioning/heating unit, it was basically silent.
Officer Pierce was there to greet them. An older man whose hairline was receding. The paleness never seemed to leave his rotund features, and the incoming greyness that he tried to hide behind his cap was a marker that this man was probably only a couple years off of retiring. He was most likely hoping to drift through those last years without too much trouble.
Despicable.
“Oh, yer back!” He said surprised as he watched the trio pile in through the door, “Change your mind about the-uh, situation?”
“Pierce,” Chris sighed, “Your friend here suggested I come back and see the ‘victim’ one last time.”
He wasn’t fully aware of the context of his and Carver’s relationship and frankly; he didn’t care. What he did care about was setting things straight so he could go home.
His knuckles cracked as he pressed them under his thumbs.
“Well, if you think that will-“
“Shut up.” Chris snapped, causing Trish to step out of her chair. He ground his teeth and stared back at Pierce.
“Officer… I need to see it again, but you’re probably not going to like the conclusion I come to. Based on what Carver’s been telling me, you’ve been given a relatively similar conclusion from various different sources. Do you still have the pictures?”
The man grumbled and nodded, and after a few moments, he was waving them on through. Chris locked eyes with Carver for a moment as he consciously chose to ignore Piper’s presence as the group was led back into a small evidence room.
@Kidd@The Harbinger of Ferocity
Still, throughout the entire conversation, Chris remained silent and chose instead to get inside his vehicle and at least make sure it was still turning on. When the engine roared to life just as Piper took her motorcycle from out behind the shop, Chris was already beginning to get back on the road, and again he sighed as he headed back in the direction he came from instead of back to the city he called him and the office that he called his work space. His head ached ever so slightly from the previous conversation as one of the veins in his wrist popped out for a moment, but Chris was like an arrowhead. With a target chosen, he was going straight towards it and not stopping for everything.
He didn’t know this “Cutter” fellow. From the sounds of it he was some washed-up human being who stopped be a productive member of society a while ago. Add drunkenness to the profile… Chris didn’t like this guy already, and he hadn’t even met him at this point.
The narrow road spiraled past small, decrepit houses and the occasional local business. The town central needed a fresh coat of paint and some TLC for sure as it felt as though no one had thought of fixing things for years, or rather no one had the money to fix it. Maybe there was one brand-name store sitting around, but Chris was here to do one thing in specific, which is why he pulled back into the parking lot of the police station and took what was probably a few more minutes than he should have to park the vehicle. Piper pulled in beside him, with Carver on the opposite side, but Chris was a few steps ahead of the other too even if they caught up rather quickly. Chris didn’t like working with other people. Regardless of what they’d said or done for him, he still couldn’t trust them. He couldn’t trust anyone, really. Not when all these people were despicable and lazy.
You’re a monster, too… a voice in his head murmured, but he pushed it away as he always did.
The station itself was tiny. A couple of chairs laid out to sit in at the front, next to an old, crochety desk at which one woman in uniform sat. Officer Trish was the junior officer around here, which wasn’t saying much because there were only two of them, but her face was angled and narrow and she seemed dedicated to protecting this hopeless state of decay they called a town. There was a bit of a cubicle divider in the back, as well a hallway of simple tiles that led back to their one holding cell. A coffee machine and a small box of breakfast pastries was sitting behind the reception desk, and, save for the hum of an air conditioning/heating unit, it was basically silent.
Officer Pierce was there to greet them. An older man whose hairline was receding. The paleness never seemed to leave his rotund features, and the incoming greyness that he tried to hide behind his cap was a marker that this man was probably only a couple years off of retiring. He was most likely hoping to drift through those last years without too much trouble.
Despicable.
“Oh, yer back!” He said surprised as he watched the trio pile in through the door, “Change your mind about the-uh, situation?”
“Pierce,” Chris sighed, “Your friend here suggested I come back and see the ‘victim’ one last time.”
He wasn’t fully aware of the context of his and Carver’s relationship and frankly; he didn’t care. What he did care about was setting things straight so he could go home.
His knuckles cracked as he pressed them under his thumbs.
“Well, if you think that will-“
“Shut up.” Chris snapped, causing Trish to step out of her chair. He ground his teeth and stared back at Pierce.
“Officer… I need to see it again, but you’re probably not going to like the conclusion I come to. Based on what Carver’s been telling me, you’ve been given a relatively similar conclusion from various different sources. Do you still have the pictures?”
The man grumbled and nodded, and after a few moments, he was waving them on through. Chris locked eyes with Carver for a moment as he consciously chose to ignore Piper’s presence as the group was led back into a small evidence room.
@Kidd@The Harbinger of Ferocity
Thanks! Happy to tag along on this fantastical adventure!
Vesper
“Wearing some armour might help,” A child suggested to Vesper once, “At least then you won’t look like some scary ghost.”
Well, It’s a little heavy sometimes, but at least now people can see me without being scared.
Vesper sparked through the bar as his form levitated above the wooden surfaces. Those who were regulars since he got there were used to that prickly static sensation that drifted over their backs when he rushed by, but sometimes guests and newer people didn’t really know how to act around the lightning-personified. The armor buzzed with sparks and glowed neon blue like the rest of him as he pulled a bucket in one hand along with a mop in the other.
For someone that came into existence only a few years ago, with shockingly little information surrounding how the world worked, he did know how to work hard. In essence, he was created to be a servant, so things like sweeping and wiping tables and mopping floors came easily to him. Even now, just as the Lady Veda’s glass shattered against the floor; he was there a moment later with the mop at the ready, though it seemed that they’d already solved the problem just as he arrived there.
“Oh dear, a little slow on the upkeep, it seems,” Vesper sighed as he let the mop droop down just a little bit.
He’d been doing this for about a year now. Doing simple chores and odd jobs around the Inn to keep it looking tip-top. He rarely took requests on the board, and when he did usually it was to assist with research or simply to fetch something for someone else. To be honest, he only really did them for a sense of purpose. He didn’t need to eat or sleep really. Usually, all he had to do was go into a storm every few months and recharge by pulling the lightning towards him. They kept him around because he was so willing to help out, and, well, the rest of the world didn’t really know what to do for him.
Plus, having a living incarnation of magickal energy around to scare off some unruly patrons was usually a good thing.
In his moment of hesitation, he looked up to realize the man whose space he'd invaded. He tended to space out every now and again in his own reflection, leaving him staring both partially at the bartender and the man who was talking to Veda only moments before.
“Oh, uh… Hello. I’m sorry for rushing in here like this and I hope I didn’t surprise you!”
His voice exudes a level of sincerity, the like of which is akin to an eager adolescent ready to take on the world, but the living plasma isn’t quite ready for something like that yet.
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