Rook

Flatmates

You start@hagroden X

Flatmates

Oooooh fuck yeah

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Loraine

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Loraine had little trouble blending into the crowds. She hid underneath a thick, heavy, black coat that went down to her knee's that covered up her dual pistols and the red cross of her Church hidden beneath its thick layers. No one was any the wiser – for now she was a commoner. She wandered the market, eyeing the relatively common sight of demons aside God's children behind stalls and tents selling all manner of hellish foods and items. She kept her disgust, as she did with all other emotions, hidden behind her stone cold face - "With blinding rage you will smite Lucifer's children, but that which is the rage of God": a proverb she had been taught from a very young age. What she was looking for she was not entirely certain; the word of a demon was little to trust, but it was all she had. All she knew was this demons name, and that he would be found here - how it would be found was a task Loraine was attempting to construct.

She decided she would feign interest in the stalls and their wares, listen to the voices around her, the whispers of demons, for the name of 'Tazul' to be mentioned. She would keep an eye on the dark corners of the market, the streets that wound off deeper into the city that dotted the edges of the cacophony for any sign of individuals who looked like they ought not be there.

Her 'plan' went without event for some time; she made sure not to stay too long in one place to keep suspicion off of her. As she wandered she heard saplings of gossip smattered about the cocktail of people: "Have you heard? That big abandoned warehouse up north of here was raided!", "Get out of here", "Oh, it's true! I heard the gunshots! Something went down there", "Me too!", "Was it the Kradictron?", "I heard it was the Holy Terror" - and so it went on and on. 'Interesting', though Loraine. This would be something she'd have to look into, but not until her current task was done.

She had made her way to one of the borders of the market, the crowds far less dense here, the stalls far more rundown and 'shady' looking. As she strolled, she saw a small group of demons slowly edging their way into the market. She felt a power in her stir, and knew she must pursue within the shadows. It was God's will. She followed close behind.

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@hagroden I will post soon then - I'm really enjoying this RP! X

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@hagroden I've been wanting to make another post for a while but I thought it would be rude of me because some of the others have only made one post: I was waiting for them :S

The Two Covens

@GoddessSophia Really excited for when this starts! :'3

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@hagroden Sorry for the length of my post! It was mostly dialogue :( X

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Loraine

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"Please! Don't hurt me! I'll do whatever you want, just leave me in peace!"

The creature was quite pathetic. It crawled on it's hands and knees, green blood oozing from the gaping gash Loraine had carved with a powerful strike of her hand. It's luminescent yellow eyes wept with a blinding fear - something Loraine, bent upon the evil she thought she saw before her, could not see.

"Where is your leader?" She asked, without a trace of emotion.

They stood in a beat up apartment lit by a single, dim orange bulb that swayed gently from the draft of the broken window. The place would seem quite quaint and homely were it not for the shattered glass, strewn books and destroyed furniture that were the collateral of Loraine's rageless interrogation. Loraine, like the professional she was, had not received so much as a bruise from the encounter. She tucked a loose strange of sandy hair behind her ear as she loosened a heavy pistol, marked with the cross of her Church, from its holster and trained it upon the creatures head.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Gargled the alien, voice quivering with terror, muffled by it's screechy accent its species adorned.

"You are a member of the Kradictron. You will tell me where I can find your leader, or, if you cannot, where I can find another of your demon kindred who does." She cocked the hammer of her pistol.

"I'm not Kradictron, I swear! Believe me! I just want to live in peace! I know nothing!" It scratched at the floor at the base of Loraine's boots, pleading desperately. "Just please! Leave me alone!"

Loraine pressed the barrel of her pistol between the eyes of the demonic creature that lay before her. "Then tell me, who is Tazul?"

"T-Tazul?" Came a surprised stutter.

"Tazul! Your contact, your informant. The creature passing you notes, the demon whispering in your ear! Where is Tazul!" She bellowed without anger, but a passionate authority.

"I-I... I..." The creature tried to answer.

"Lie to me again", said Loraine, leaning in closer to examine the darkness of the creatures heart within its eyes. "... and you'll wish you hadn't."

"W-Will... will you let me go?" It bartered.

"I leave God to judge the guilty" Loraine tactfully asserted; purposefully disguising the fate she knew was left for this demon.

The creature paused a while, and pitifully spat a fresh smattering of its green blood across the floor, its claws fumbling together as if fingering a coin. "The East Market, outside Baltimore." Loraine stood from her crouching position, gun still trained against the creatures head.

"P-please!" it begged, "I know nothing more! I'm never given a specific place, it's all I know, I swear it! I swear it!" It let out a screechy sob, almost like a cricket calling out in pain.

"Your information will suffice."

"S-so... will you let me go?"

Loraine looked the creature dead in the eye, and paused a while, waiting for God's will to instruct her what to do. After what seemed an eternity, she began reciting the prayer.

"In the name of God, our benevolent Lord and protector-"

"No, no! Please! I've told you everything!"

"-I, Loraine Clerk, of the Holy Terror-"

"Please! PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU!"

"-cast you back into the darkness from whence you came-"

"PLEASE, PLEASE, NO, NOOOOO!"

"-begone, foul demon!"
BANG.

The wall was coated in the thick green blood that covered the floors. With a hollow thump, the creature collapsed, head now a gaping maw of flesh and exoskeleton.

To Baltimore, then thought Loraine, East Market.

Dresden Files RPG

RESERVING A PLACE

The Two Covens

Morgan Clayton

Age: 23 ~ Species: Witch

Appearance

Powers:
Aquakinesis
Necromancy of the recently deceased (Not yet strong enough for the long deceased)

Basic Witch Skills:
Casting spells/enchantments with the coven
Making potions/tonics
Skilled knowledge of herbs
Group healing

Other Skills:
Poetry
Blending into Crowds
Deciphering Ancient Text
Apt Climber
Persuasion/Bartering (Wordsmith)

Personality:
Rash
Distrustful
Cunning
Quiet

Morgan is fresh to the coven, and has kept mostly to herself speaking seldom to anyone. With a keen eye she is able to read individuals quite clearly without conversation which she can utilise to find weakness or present necessary compassion when she sees fit. Though beloved to her, Morgan is wary of the witches of her Coven – paranoid of rejection or betrayal. Trust comes from a great deal of time and patience alongside Morgan, however, generally, Morgan places the Coven before herself yet only after analysing every detail of the situation, and not before. She often reads alone.

Familiar: Jesus Lizard

Bio:
Morgan was raised in the Moorlands of Scotland alone with her father, Allaster Clayton, a warlock. Their life was one of solitude; Morgan had never even seen another soul until she was forced to flee. She spent most of her time studying dead and ancient languages in the depths of her father’s library. When she was not doing this her father would teach her the basics of alchemy and apothecary, whilst also slowly training her how to control her unique powers. Her father had always boasted of the purer life free from the conflicts of the world – Morgan’s inherent distrust towards anyone was founded by his teachings. She was never taught about the wider world beyond the endless grass plains; her father assured her she would never need to.

Until, one autumn eve, her father returned from his foraging ravaged with a sudden, blinding desire that seemed to border the edges of madness to contact the deceased: Morgan knew not who. Powerful as Allaster was, he was not strong enough for the depths of the void to continue. And so Morgan, a mere child of 14, watched her father writhe in agony for hours until he finally died. To this day she knows not what had grieved him so to perform such a dangerous task. She fled, now with nothing left for her here.

She spent the remainder of her life in, unusually, London. She had wandered the plains of Scotland for weeks without seeing a sole, before stumbling upon the village of Aviemore. Taken in by strangers, she endeavored to go where more people than she had ever seen before resided: she went to London. She quickly grew accustom to the lifestyle and lived in a tiny, dingy room above a raucous bar – here she carried on her reading and practiced her magic, desperate not to let go of the roots her father had so dearly treasured. Then, one day, mingling with the common people, as she rarely did, she was consumed by a bout of rage induced by a drunk’s persistence in sleeping with her. She, unintentionally, drained the water from his brain. On the run once more, her Coven found her then.