Saint Girralo

Secrets - Closed

I'd be interested in a reboot. I miss this and still reminisce about the good times.

Welcome to Nowhere

Guys I see cobwebs in the corner.

Fallout! (Sandbox)

I’m interested, but if we come up with a vault we should also come up with what the experiment was for that vault. After all most vaults had a specific experiment (I.E. Vault 111- Cryostasis) or is that what was meant by Vault quirk?

Welcome to Nowhere

James had dropped his stuff at home and gotten everything he would need minus the incense for the ritual. He also had food for the next few weeks which made things easier. Now he needed to figure out what he was going to do for the costume party later. He could easily do a World War Two soldier as he did have his old uniform intact. Or he could do a Viking warrior. He had the helm and some leather armour from a costume he did for a Renaissance Faire he and a couple of friends went to a few years back. He would have to do his offering before he went to the party though.

As daylight dwindled, he gathered the meats, fruits and the mead and made to the altar. With the high fence he could be in his dragon form at ground level without being seen. Plus the altar he built was semi-enclosed, further obscuring his draconic form from view. He began the ritual as he placed the meat and fruits on top of some kindling in an iron bowl on the altar and the mead onto the ground in front of it. As he prayed he kneeled and emptied a portion of the mead into the dirt. Finishing his prayer he inhaled, and a soft glow formed in the back of his mouth. As he exhaled, that soft glow turned into a roaring fire that was aimed into the iron bowl. He breathed fire onto the offering three times to ensureit would continue to burn as he finished the ritual. As he gave his thanks, he placed his left hand on a sharp edge he built into the altar and made a one inch wide cut in it. His blue blood flowed from the would and he lifted it over the offering bowl with its smouldering contents and let his blood drip into it. He bowed his head to finish the ritual and stood up shifting back to his human form. From start to finish the ritual lasted about half an hour.

Careful not to touch anything with his blood-soaked hand, he opened the door and made his way to the medicine cabinet and grabbed some gauze as well as a wrap to conceal the colour of his blood. He got dressed up in studded leather armour and his Viking helmet with some leather breeches, and almost walked out the door before remembering his bracers and heading back into his workshop to grab them and tie them to his forearm. He’d leave his forge hammer at home, nor would he bring the round shield he made; that would just be excessive. As he walked down the street he held the helmet in his hand by the eyeholes.

Welcome to Nowhere

Sorry it tools so long. I couldn’t exactly get it how I wanted until just now. So much I wanted to add but there is a better time to place the extra.

Welcome to Nowhere

I’m pretty sure everyone was waiting on someone else to make the first post after the time skip.

Welcome to Nowhere

As James got to Coffee Central, he was greeted by the wonderful scent of the elixir of the gods. Not the actual gods, but this wondrous liquid was what powered mundanes and even him on rough days. He managed to abstain from the addictive beverage while on vacation, but now that he was home… well the craving seemed to be back. Fortunately the line was short and he didn’t have to wait long to place his order.

“One Coffee, splash of cream, no sugar please.” He asked, setting a ten on the counter. “Sorry smallest bill I have.”

“That’s no problem. That’ll be right out. Here’s your change. Can I get a name?” The cashier asked.

“James. Thank you,” he replies. He stepped away from the counter and walked over towards the side and noticed the newspaper Bartholomew had. Then he overheard someone asking if Tholo was a mechanic. James smirked knowing that Tholo was a great mechanic, having fixed his truck more than a few times. James knew he didn’t need to interfere, nor did he feel particularly inclined to, but he still moved closer as he noticed a particular headline. There was another murder while he was away.

“Another one?” He scowled, backing away. This was bad. If hunters weren’t already looking into the situation in the area, they probably would be soon. He would definitely want to be prepared. Things were dangerous and if the murders weren’t solved soon, it was only going to get worse. Much worse. Memories from his first cycle flashes before his eyes, memories of war. He was only pulled out of it when he heard his name being called prompting him to step up to get his coffee. He sat down at a table near Bartholomew and began sipping at his coffee and taking deep breaths to try to slow his heart rate. ‘It won’t come to war, it won’t come to war’ He thought to himself, trying to calm down. He didn’t want to see another war first hand, having lost too many friends in World War Two. Granted most of those who died were lost either in Normandy when they stormed the beaches or after he was injured and sent home.

He sipped his coffee again and leaned back. He needed to think and he needed to prepare to make the offering… ‘The offering!’ He remembered, somewhat startling himself awake. He needed meats and fruits as well as a certain incense the name of which he was blanking on, but he would recognise the scent. He also wanted mead, but the only place to get good mead was nearly an hour away, and not open yet. He would have to go shopping, but it would have to wait until he dropped his stuff off at his house. He stood and walked toward the door, pausing for a second near Tholo to give a quick hello. He would make his way to his truck soon but he crisp fresh air was nice and he didn’t want to head home just yet, especially with the coffee working it’s way into his blood. He would just keep walking, maybe go to the park nearby for a bit and think.

@Argetlam350

Welcome to Nowhere

The drive back from the airport was relaxing. James had just spent the past two weeks in France paying his respects to fallen soldiers, people he had considered brothers, and culminating in a visit to the beaches of Normandy. Simply closing his eyes there transported him back seventy four years to that fateful day, D-Day. But that was another life, his previous one, his first one to be truthful. He was born as Alexander Marcus Reese and that was the name he used then during World War Two. The memories of that life left scars that he will carry the rest of his time on this Earth, not physically but they would be there. That was a benefit and a curse to being a dragon in this world. At the end of one cycle they would burst into flame, shedding the injuries of their past life and being reborn in a sense from the ashes, whole and unmarked. That was how he got his left leg back.

Shaking his head he banished those thoughts and thought instead about the new memories he was making. All the good he was doing in the community. He would return home and check in with the guys at the firehouse and see if there was any more murders had happened while he was away. It was scary and it brought the soldier mentality to the forefront of his mind. Eight murders in the past two months and this was just one town over in Roxbury. He would have to forge a knife when he got home. It wouldn’t be much but it would be something to protect himself with and something to help get his mind off the madness going on around him.

His Black 2007 Ford F-150 finally crossed the border to his hometown. It was good to be home again. The sights of Erehwon in the autumn as it prepared itself for the annual fall festival were something to behold. He pulled into the parking lot next to the fire department, just off of main and carefully pulled into the spot next to the Boss’ car. Putting the car in park he began to quietly make his way to the side entrance and scanned his key fob to let him in.

“Welcome back James!” Hollered a man’s voice from his left, just behind a closed door. This started off a chain reaction of all his coworkers coming in and clapping him on the back and welcoming him.

“How’d you know it was me Carl?”

“Your truck has a distinctive sound to it. Sounds like a piece of …”

“Woah woah woah. Don’t go dissing my truck. I take care of it and it still gets me from place to place so it’s good in my book.” He cut Carl off as most of the guys went back to what they were doing before hand.

“Just calling it like I see it man. It’s good to have you back. You enjoy your trip?” Carl asks as he walks out of the bathroom with a paper towel still in his hands. Carl Renard was a tall man, dark skinned and strong and was someone who enjoyed his job. Though a mundane, he is aware of the otherworldly nature that comprises a number of the town's citizens.

“Yeah. It was nice. First time I’ve been over there in a long time. Visited the Beaches, went to Paris. Relaxed.” He right ear twitched as he stated that last part.

“Yeah right, I somewhat doubt you would know what relaxation was if it went and smacked you in your face.” Carl shot back as embraced his friend.

“Yeah, I missed you too. Anyway I’m just stopping in to let you know I’m back and will be back on the clock tomorrow. I’m going to stop at the house and drop my stuff off, then head into town.” He said as he embraced his friend back quickly before backing off. He had jet lag real bad, but he would force himself to stay up so he could get a proper night’s sleep.

“Alright I’ll see you then. You be careful out there.” Carl told James.

“See you tomorrow, Boss.” James waved as he made his way back to the door. He had to stifle a yawn as he stepped outside. He looked out to the street and went to his truck. He needed coffee before he went anywhere else. Coffee Central was only few blocks away, he didn’t really need to drive there. He checked to see if he locked the door and began walking when he was confident that the truck was secure.

Welcome to Nowhere

Alexander Reese

Full Name: Alexander Marcus Reese

Nicknames/Alias/AKA:
Name Currently in use: James Alexander Reese

Age: (Cycle 2) 26

Gender: Male

DOB: 8-28-1921 2nd cycle 4-11-1992
Occupation:
Firefighter, Blacksmith (Kinda Hobby)

Race: Dragon

Hair Color: Bronze

Eye Color: Left Blue, Right Caramel

Height and Build: 6’
203Lbs Lean Muscle

Other Appearance: In his dragon form he has copper scales running up and down the top of his arms, and the entirety of his legs and torso, with large leathery wings and a tail that reaches 3 feet in length. He tends to carry a scorched black quarter around with him everywhere and his right ear sometimes (often) twitches when he lies. His voice is quite plain, if a little on the deeper end of tenor.

History: Born in 1921, James or as he went by back then, Alexander, appeared to be a normal boy. Well except for the fact that he occasionally had copper scales that coated his arms, legs and torso and large leathery wings growing out of his back. His first cycle saw him excelling in classes especially mathematics and English before beginning to learning carpentry as a career shortly after graduating from high school in 1939. When the United States joined WW2, He quickly enlisted and was trained in time to be sent to the Italian Front where he quickly climbed the ranks to Staff Sergeant for acts of Valor.

In time, Alexander’s squad was relocated to the UK awaiting the invasion of Normandy Beach. It was a nerve racking experience and the wait was terrible too. Landing on Gold Beach was awful, terrifying and would give him nightmares for years to come. The salt in the air. The sound of 155mm cannons pounding the surf and ships around him. The sound of machine guns firing. As the ramp dropped the coppery smell of blood filled the air as people dropped dead. Crawling up the sand, ducking behind tank barricades and into craters from the shelling. It was a harrowing day and he nearly got killed numerous times. Only luck saved him in his mind. As they pushed in on the Western Front, a few dozen miles outside of Paris, tragedy struck out at Alexander as a grenade tore his left leg apart just above the knee.

The mission was a joint operation with a local French Resistance Cell to capture an important town on the way into Paris, as well as gather any intel that might be left behind. Involved with the group were eight individuals in the know about supernatural beings, including an elf, an angel, and a shifter. The mission was a failure, enemy reinforcements had arrived to hold the town and in the chaos Alexander got separated from his unit and was running with the shifter and elf. In the fighting a grenade was tossed into the group, and Alex pushed the others away and was caught in the blast. His left leg was heavily injured and he had caught shrapnel across his body. The Shifter and Elf saw the blue blood of their ally and immediately made a tourniquet to stem the flow of blood. They began carrying him to the car they had stolen and parked outside of the town. They drove to their village where a healer experienced with dealing with supernatural beings lived. It was a struggle to save his life and he fought every hour of every day for the next week. His left leg was removed just above the knee and he would carry scars all across his body for the rest of that life.

Luck again saved his life, but he was upset. Upon becoming stable enough about four days later, they returned him to his regiment. He was going to be sent home, and would be leaving his those he considered brothers to finish the mission. And as expected, the Colonel he was working with thanked him for everything he had done and that he would be going home with an honourable discharge. The ride home was full of regrets and pain.

Getting home was easy, settling back in however was a different story. He was struggling to find work with his mobility issues and fell back on what he started to learn before joining the army, carpentry. He started by building himself a simple prosthetic leg to improve his ability to get from one place to another. Soon he was working towards finishing his apprenticeship with a respected teacher and began to work for himself. It wasn’t always easy, however he made enough money to own a respectable sized house. Ladies weren’t exactly lining up to date the scarred warrior, but he found a few who seemed to try and catch his attention. A small corner of his mind laughed at the idea of dating any of these mundane individual.

As he reached his fifties for the first time, Alexander moved closer to a place he felt at home, the magical community of Nowhere. He wasn’t about to die, and start his next cycle just yet, but he wanted to have plans and a support system in place. It was where his older sister was and she was getting older, and he wanted to be there for when she started her second cycle. He knew he was wearing a bit thin, especially with how he kept trying to push himself and hoped he could last until after his sister was old enough to hold down a job and take care of him when his second cycle started. He had invested wisely though and they wouldn’t hurt for money to take care of each other. He would be a great father when he finally got a chance to have his own, after all, his sister and he had made that an agreement, to take care of each other when they started their new cycle.

Alexander was young the first time he died, for a dragon anyway, at only the age of 71, shedding the pain of his first life in a brilliant blaze. It was April 11, 1992 and he had already told his sister the name he planned on going by the second time around, James. All the “trophies” he collected from WW2 were stored in a locked safe in the basement of the house he had “willed” to his sister. Growing up the second time was nearly as fun as the first time. As his memories started to return though so would the nightmares of what had happened. The beaches of Normandy stained red, the metallic scent of blood. On the bright side, he did great during that part of history class. He decided he wanted to help people this time, but he didn’t want to be a cop, nor did he feel he had the steady hands to be a doctor. He grew up wanting to be a firefighter and it was perfect for him in this life. When a friend growing up mentioned that he did metalwork, James got curious and began to do some reading and eventually gave it a try himself, finding some sort of affinity with it.

Family/Relationships:
Mother: Allison Reese (Deceased)
Father: Jacob Reese (Deceased)
Sister: Ashley Marie Jackson (2nd Cycle age 42)

Other/Extra: Has a few (3) trophy guns from WW2 that were willed to him by “His great grandfather” A P-08 pistol, a Kar98, and a demil-ed MP-40.

He is a protective person, especially of children and those he claims as his family. Attacking them or his honor are the quickest ways to anger him as his honor is another thing he holds in high regard. He enjoys a good laugh and being able to be his true self, with his wings, scales and tail. When not working, he’s often in his forge which he set up in his garage, out in the park exercising, or out checking out fishing spots. He is currently returning from a trip to France, where he went and visited Normandy Beach for the first time since his first life cycle.

Welcome to Nowhere

James Reese

Appearance:
Full Name: James Alexander Reese

Nicknames/Alias/AKA:
Born: Alexander Marcus Reese
Nicknames: None

Age: (Cycle 2) Physically 26

Gender: Male

DOB: 8-28-1921 Reborn 4-11-1992

Occupation:
Previous Incarnations; Soldier (WW2 Allies)(1st Cycle), Carpentry (Woodwork) (1st Cycle)
Current: Firefighter, Blacksmith (Kinda Hobby)

Race: Dragon

Hair Color: Bronze

Eye Color: Left Blue Right Caramel

Height and Build: 6’
203Lbs Lean Muscle

Other Appearance: (What their other/true form looks like. Scars, tattoos, etc. Quirks and habits. Sound of their voice. anything. if nothing just delete this part) Copper Scales running up and down the top of his arms, and the entirety of his legs and torso, with large leathery wings and a tail that reaches 3 feet in length. In his first life, which he still has pictures from, he lost his left leg above the knee and had quite a few scars from a German grenade. When he tends to carry a scorched black quarter around with him everywhere and his right ear sometimes (often) twitches when he lies. His voice is quite plain, if a little on the deeper end of tenor.

History: Born in 1921, James or as he went by back then, Alexander, appeared to be a normal boy. Well except for the fact that he occasionally had copper scales that coated his arms, legs and torso and large leathery wings growing out of his back. His first cycle saw him excelling in classes especially mathematics and English before beginning to learning Carpentry as a career shortly after graduating from high school in 1939. When the United States joined WW2, He quickly enlisted and was trained in time to be sent to the Italian Front where he quickly climbed the ranks to Staff Sergeant for acts of Valor.

In time Alexander’s squad was relocated to the UK awaiting the invasion of Normandy Beach. It was a nerve racking experience and the wait was terrible too. Landing on Gold Beach was awful, terrifying and would give him nightmares for years to come. The salt in the air. The sound of 155mm cannons pounding the surf and ships around him. The sound of machine guns firing. As the ramp dropped the coppery smell of blood filled the air as people dropped dead. Crawling up the sand, ducking behind tank barricades and into craters from the shelling. It was a harrowing day and he nearly got killed numerous times. Only luck saved him in his mind. As they pushed in on the Western Front, a few dozen miles outside of Paris, tragedy struck out at Alexander as a grenade tore his left leg apart just below the knee. It was a struggle to save his life and he fought every hour of every day for a couple weeks. His left leg was removed just above the knee and was heavily scarred across his body. Luck again saved his life, but he was upset. He was being sent home, and was leaving his those he considered brothers to finish the mission. The ride home was full of regrets and pain.

Getting home was easy, settling back in however was a different story. He was struggling to find work with his mobility issues and fell back on what he started to learn before joining the army, carpentry. He started by building himself a simple prosthetic leg to improve his ability to get from one place to another. Soon he was working towards finishing his apprenticeship with a respected teacher and began to work for himself. It wasn’t always easy however he made enough money to own a respectable sized house. Ladies weren’t exactly lining up to date the scarred warrior, but he found a few who seemed to try and catch his attention. A small corner of his mind laughed at the idea of dating any of these mundane individual.

As he reached his fifties for the day time, Alexander moved closer to a place he felt at home, the magical community of Nowhere. He wasn’t ready to be reborn just yet but he wanted to have plans in place. It was where his older sister was and she was getting ready for her first rebirth, he would try and wait until she was old enough to hold down a job and take care of him before he would start his next cycle. He had invested wisely though and they wouldn’t hurt for money to take care of each other. He would be a great father when he finally got a chance to have his own, after all, his sister and he had made that an agreement, to take care of each other when they had to be reborn.

Alexander had his first rebirth at the relatively young age, for a dragon anyway, of 71, shedding the pain of his first life in a brilliant blaze. It was April 11, 1992 and he had already told his sister the name he planned on going by the second time around, James. All the “trophies” he collected from WW2 were stored in a locked safe in the basement of the house he had “willed” to his sister. Growing up the second time was nearly as fun as the first time. As his memories started to return though so would the nightmares of what had happened. The beaches of Normandy stained red, the metallic scent of blood. He did great during that part of history class on the bright side. He decided he wanted to help people this time, but he didn’t want to be a cop, nor did he feel he had the steady hands to be a doctor. He grew up wanting to be a firefighter and it was perfect for him in this life. When a friend growing up mentions that he did metalwork, James got curious and began to do some reading and eventually gave it a try himself, finding some sort of affinity with it.

Family/Relationships: Mother: Allison Reese (Deceased)
Father: Jacob Reese (Deceased)
Sister: Ashley Marie Jackson (2nd Cycle age 42)

Other/Extra: Has a few (3) trophy guns from WW2 that were willed to him by “His great grandfather” A P-08 pistol, a Kar98, and a demil-ed MP-40.

He is a protective person, especially of children and those he claims as his family. Attacking them or his honour are the quickest ways to anger him as his honour is another thing he holds in high regard. He enjoys a good laugh and being able to let down his glamour. When not working, he’s often in his forge which he set up in his garage, out in the park exercising, or out checking out fishing spots. He is currently returning from a trip to France, where he went and visited Normandy Beach for the first time since his first life.

Wow I forgot how phone size font translated to computer. Anyway here is a character for review @Emma