Riven Wight

To Cure a Curse

Hope you got some good sleep! ^.^

Also, I apologize: I've been feeling rather anti-PM-social lately.

To Cure a Curse

Rayadell watched him with her usual, emotionless stare as Calanon reached into his pack. She leaned lightly on her staff until he sat the wrapped food on the ground between them. She stepped toward him and knelt, her hand running down the smooth, intricate carvings of the weapon.
She gave him a curious look when he went for the strips of cured, dried meat. She had met very few elves along her travels who chose to eat meat they did not at least know the origin of. She opened a couple of the smaller pouches to see what was inside, impatiently waiting for him to finish gathering his food. Once he had completed his sandwich, she tore off a chunk of the bread and cheese, and grabbed a fair portion of the jerky for a single meal.
Though she ate the cheese with the bread, she left the jerky on its own, happily sating the carnivorous side of her race last, enjoying the flavors of the mild salts and spices coating the meat.
Once she finished, she stood, offering only a stiff nod to Calanon’s observations of the food quality. Her brows rose as he went through a stretching regimen, a pang of jealousy momentarily flitting through her at his freedom to do so while her wings ever itched for the same release.
“Practicing to become a tumbler in a carnival, are you?” She smirked as she went to where her pack still lay by the now all but dead fire. She picked it up as he posed the question of their means of travel.
She glanced up through the trees, its leaves giving glimpses of the snow-capped mountains awaiting them. The wish to get up there, to be surrounded by the familiar cold and desirable altitude, made her antsy to arrive as quick as possible.
Instead of voicing her desire, she waved her staff dismissively as she turned her back to him, taking a couple slow steps toward the thicker trees. “Whichever you think best. Your elk traveled quite a ways yesterday. Should he need a longer rest, our feet are quite capable. You choose. I’ll return shortly.”
Rayadell hurried through the woods. Once sure she would be out of eye-shot, she removed her cloak, relieving her wings for a short moment in her own stretches, before placing her pack at her back. She reluctantly drew her wings in to her back as close as possible, then replaced the cloak around her shoulders.
She returned to their makeshift camp a couple minutes later, sure he heard her coming from a long ways off.
“Which will it be, then, Calanon?” she asked, her head cocking slightly, the strand of black-tipped white hair ever over her face shifting slightly.

Of Science and Magic

@Arista
Sorry, got a little long with two fights going on. Heh.

If I got any details wrong, let me know and I'll go in and edit.

Of Science and Magic

Bearded-man gave a triumphant, “Aha!” when the first, then second dart hit their mark. He readied a third, wicked determination in his pale blue eyes as Byrce nuzzled the narrow wounds the darts had inflicted. His smug expression twisted into a panicked scowl when fog rose around them, preventing him from getting another decent shot in.
He let out a yowl in a mix of pain and shock when Byrce’s teeth sunk into his arm, the thick leather of his coat the only thing preventing the werewolf’s sharp teeth from penetrating as deep as they could have.
Bearded-man released his hold on the gun-sword with that hand, transferring the weight of it to the opposite one. Gripping the handle incorporated into it, his teeth clenched, he moved to swipe the sharp side of the blade at Byrce, but the wolf thrashed his head, the jerking motion throwing him off balance and making him stumble downward with the beast’s tugging.
With a hiss of anger and pain as Byrce’s teeth tore at his sleeve and arm, he managed to make a swing at the wolf. But the wolf backed off. His weapon sliced through empty air, and he stumbled back at the sudden release of his arm.
“What does it take to drop you?!” Bearded-man growled as Byrce bore his sharp fangs at him. Then, a grin spread over his face as he took in the signs of weakening the wolf displayed before Byrce collapsed, the fog disappearing in a swirling burst. “That, I guess,” he answered his own question, amusement in his voice as he moved the sword-gun to point its barrel at him one last time.
Gritting his teeth as the movement of returning his hand to the weapon irked the bite mark, he pulled the lever quickly once, then twice, but the wolf still had enough strength left in him to call on his unusual power.
Glittering mist rushed in a wave from the wolf and spread upward as another dart shot through the air with a loud whoosh-bang. In the time it took for the dart to travel from man to wolf, the mist solidified into a glistening wall of ice, leaving a haze of fog hovering at its surface. The dart, its feathers caught in the frozen water, hung suspended mid-shot in the ice, its tip staring down at Byrce in perfect aim.
Meanwhile, Thea appeared to have gained the upper hand in the fight against Young-guy, each swing of her burned branch blocked as she directed the steps of her opponent. Trying to not glance at the log for fear of alerting him of its proximity and her plan, she made another swing at him that she hoped would be the last she needed to make him tumble backward.
Instead of blocking and stepping back as she anticipated, Young-guy ducked beneath her swing, moved to her side, and brought his metal rod hard across her back.
Thea shouted at the burst of pain that blossomed in the wake of the weapon, the force of the attack making her stumble forward. She tried to clear the fallen tree trunk, but her foot caught on it and sent her sprawling to the ground, her branch knocking from her hand.
Trying to collect herself as fast as she could, she reached for her branch, then rolled onto her back just as Young-guy leapt at her, bringing his rod down on her.
She raised her branch just in time. The groaning crack she had been afraid of hearing came at last from her branch as the wood gave, splitting nearly in two.
She kicked up at his stomach, making him stumbled back with an airy grunt.
Yes! she thought as, at last, he fell backwards over the fallen tree that had felled her.
She hurried to her feet, but he recovered quicker than she did. Raising his rod once more, he leapt over the log, murder in his eyes as a couple sparks of electricity spat sickly over the metal.
With her wooden weapon useless, Thea gasped, threw her arms up to protect her head, and tried to step out of the way of Young-guy’s raging path, though she knew it would do little good.
But he never collided with her. Instead, a loud thump rattled in front of her, making Thea look up. A thick wall of ice had spread between the two of them just in time, Young-guy’s weapon, then body smacking into it, hard. His form was warped from the other side of the ice, but she could just make him out as he bent over, a hand on his face where his nose had hit the ice.
“Byrce!” she called, looking around frantically for her friend. Instead, Bearded-man’s confused gaze turned to her from further down the winding ice wall, the wolf’s form just discernible on the opposite side of the elemental barrier.
She glanced to Zane, still lying unconscious on the ground not far from her.
“Well, hello, princess!” Bearded-man called, slowly aiming his weapon at her.
She looked once more to the blur that was Byrce, and licked her lips as Bearded-man cocked the weapon. If she could get to safety, she could get help for her friends. But that meant leaving them behind. She swallowed hard as her new opponent readied to fire the weapon, then ran.
A dart flew through where she had stood just a moment before as she wove through the woods as fast as she could. Alas, she did not get far.
“ENOUGH!” The annoyed, feminine voice echoed around the trees a moment before bright energy shot at Thea.
It wrapped over her, binding her legs together and arms at her sides as it formed shimmering ropes. She shouted when it pulled tight, sending her sliding to the ground.
A woman in a simple, hooded dress, its colors blending in with the forest, jumped from one of the trees to the top of Byrce’s ice wall as Young-guy rushed toward the weakened wolf.
The Scientists’ Mage had arrived.
The ice began to melt beneath the woman’s feet with a bubbling hiss, turning into steam that billowed around her.
“Never send a Scientist to do a Mage’s job,” she said through a condescending sigh.
“We’re doing all the work, you little—”
“Silence!” she snapped as she jumped from the break she had created in the ice, water dripping down what remained and pooling on the grass. “Finish off that werewolf.” She jerked her head toward Byrce as she stepped toward Thea, Young-guy keeping a careful eye on the wolf, ready to pounce should he try to attack. “I’ll get the princess back to the Sages.”
Bearded-man strode beside the woman near the gap, his weapon raised threateningly.
“If you don’t give us the credit we deserve—”
“I’ll make sure they know what happened, and all the work you put into her capture,” she reassured him, a smirk in her voice before she hurried to Thea.
Grumbling under his breath, Bearded-man hopped over what remained of the ice in the gap, and he and his partner converged on Byrce, weapons at the ready and gazes cautious.

MONSTORY

Izzy sighed, but shrugged with an expression that said, “Suit yourself,” at Riley’s second dismissal of her helping with his condition. She blinked at him when he went on to answer her questions.
There’s a college for this? she wondered, her brows raising. “The… circumstances?” she asked aloud instead.
She returned his stare, his gaze reminding her that he had been going against aberrations for who knew how long.
Izzy suppressed a groan when he said something had gone ‘exceptionally wrong.’ “What else is new?” she muttered under her breath as he continued, her concern for Trevor only deepening.
When Riley finished with his story, Izzy exhaled. “So basically, the Wolf’s feeding on and enhancing Trevor’s dark side?” She could only imagine what kind of suppressed emotions under that category he must have. Especially toward his so-called parents. Who had been the first people he had attacked. A thoughtful look crossed her eyes just before Riley spoke again.
She scowled at the thought of waiting even longer to do anything to help Trevor. It had already been about three days since she found him consumed by the White Wolf, and so far, all she had done was babysit.
“Safe,” she snorted. “Right.” Her own safety was not exactly at the top of her list, with Trevor in his current state, and her brothers determined to go after the Wolf if she so much as blinked too long.
Izzy gave a long, heavy sigh and glanced toward the floor. Remembering her pack and Riley’s recently cleaned shirt shoved inside, she retrieved it from where she had dropped it, opened it, and pulled out the borrowed pink aloha shirt.
“Here.” She handed it to him. “I’ve been busy keeping my brothers from getting themselves killed, but managed to get it washed.” She paused. “If the Wolf is part Trevor, does that mean it’ll be going after people he has some kind of repressed grudge against?”

To Cure a Curse

... I just realized I accidentally reused that name for a character in another RP. That just confused me more than it should have. xD

Maybe like jerky, dried fruits, bread, a bit of wrapped cheese... things that wouldn't go bad in a couple days. Whatever you want and think of, though!

They Live Among Us (Vampiricchild x Siaya)

When they reached the main road, Victoria flinched slightly and walked a bit closer to Alex when a car sped by. She gave a heavy sigh when he finished speaking, the passing cars making the volume of his voice seem to fluctuate.
“Because I’m pretty sure life’s out to get us,” she answered his rhetorical question. She glanced up at the sidewalk. A couple people walked ahead of them, but turned off into another section of the apartment complex Illyad called home. Her eyes followed the door as she and Alex passed, before shifting back to the sidewalk at her feet. “So. Any idea where we are?”

They Live Among Us (Vampiricchild x Siaya)

[Oops post.]

They Live Among Us (Vampiricchild x Siaya)

@vampiricchild

I've noticed that your last few replies have been rather shorter than usual, and not really done too much toward pushing us forward, story-wise. Then I realized that we haven't exactly talked much plot to know where to push forward to. So, I thought I would share the ideas I have, so we could combine thoughts and both work toward the end!

What I have mulling around my head (if you can excuse the relative cliché-ness of it) is that an ancient, supernatural being has awoken from a deep slumber he was cursed with. He has been rallying the supernaturals who want freedom from living in fear of humans, or just outright hate humans. But, even though it's been maybe about a year since he's started collecting people for his cause, creating a sort of hierarchy in his group, he's still weak. Stronger than a majority of supernaturals, but still not as much so as he once was. Because of this, he has been careful to keep his return as secret as possible, and most just know him as a leader to be feared. Which is where Alex and Victoria come in with their connection. Since he was locked away, what I'm thinking is that a good chunk of his power was stolen and given to two others, a human and a supernatural. However, that power could only fully be realized when they were together, creating a link between a human and a supernatural. How it manifests itself in the individual always varies from one person to the next. Through the ages, as the supernatural and human imbued with his powers die, they jump to the next set of people. Over the years, it's existence has practically been forgotten, but the powers continue to survive, sometimes being realized, others not, depending on if the two can be drawn together in time.

Anyway, if the ancient supernatural can get the linked human and supernatural on his side, then he can regain his full power. But if he doesn't, and both are against the eradication of humans and their supporters, then they could very well be the only ones who could stop him, and even potentially unite humans and supernaturals. He's after Victoria, because he found out who the human is, but has yet to find the supernatural counterpart, or if they've already been drawn together or not.

What do you think? Anything to add? Tweak?

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Anora gasped when the use of her magic brought yet another sensation lurking at her edges flooded through her. The sensation of a strength, of a power energized from slumbering for longer than she had been alive, forced into complete awareness.
She stumbled back in surprise when her abilities flared to an intensity unlike anything she had ever seen them before. Her backpack met the windowpane behind her as the whirling purple energy formed an angry, tornadic gale that wove its way through the apartment. Flashes of golden electricity enough to make the average man’s hairs stand on end flowed through the currents as they blew a couple pictures from the walls and sent her letter into a frenzied, air-born spiral.
She gritted her teeth and fought against the new strength rising and fighting in her, trying to force it back into submission, but it refused to listen in its excitement of no longer being dormant.
Then Pahn extinguished it with little more than a look. The sense of lost control changed to one of being virtually powerless as Pahn easily nullified her wild surge of magic. The pictures caught in the gale fell to the floor mid-flight, cracks webbing across the glass as they landed, while one soared into the wall and shattered on impact. Her letter floated to the floor near her feet, fluttering downward like a sickly bird shot from the sky as the dulled tinkle of glass falling on carpet filled the now still room. But that restless power still bubbled inside her, begging to be released.
Anora inhaled and held her breath, her attention turning to Pahn as he spoke.
Once he finished, she stared at him for a long moment, the crepuscular light shifting to a darkness that cast the apartment in shadow. The only light of the room came from Pahn himself and what little filtered through the window from the mysterious aurora borealis snaking through the skies, giving her just enough light to make out the familiar shapes of the room.
This was simply him existing. And someone—or something—out there had poisoned him. They wanted to weaken him. If Pahn could do this kind of damage just by being in his “natural state,” there was no telling what kind of evil would be daring enough to confront someone with a power of such magnitude.
She took a deep breath, her shoulders squaring when Pahn spoke again.
She did not answer immediately. Instead, she bent and picked up the envelope at her feet. She stepped back toward the coffee table as she smoothed the letter out, the coffee mug toppled over and teetering dangerously on the edge. Ignoring the mug, Anora placed the letter just beneath her phone, then strode toward the door.
“Then what are we waiting for, Mr. High-and-Mighty?” she asked as she pulled the door open, her brows raising. “Pigs to fly?”
With that, she stepped into the stairwell that linked the building’s floors. The lights that were always on lit the stairs. More litter than usual cluttered them, and she could hear a few people shouting further down, their voices echoing upward in frightened tones. She guessed she and Pahn had missed the initial panicked rush of other denizens of the apartment complex fleeing the building.
Frantic footsteps from above made her step out of the way as a woman pulling a child no older than seven behind her rushed down the stairs, followed by a man carrying a couple suitcases. They all looked confused and terrified as they raced down the stairs, sparing Anora little more than a fearful glance.
Her fists clenched again, but this time she was careful to keep her powers in check as well as she could. She hurried down the staircase, stopping only once to see if Pahn was behind her not.
Upstairs, her phone vibrated on the coffee table. The screen lit up with the word, “Mom” and a picture of a smiling woman with honey-brown hair somewhere in her early forties a second before the refrain of Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams” filled the apartment. One of her mother’s favorite 80s songs.
But Anora was not there to hear it.