SilverPaw

Nightland

Valerian Nico Alvarez-Knight

Valerian was startled by the arrival of the ever-loud Emily, who greeted everyone as per usual. Val’s lips quirked up, and they turned into her direction, nodding once firmly. Her ramblings were preferable to uncomfortable silences, and the best thing was that she didn’t even expect anyone (except perhaps Stanton) to pay attention, so Val didn’t have to feel guilty about it if their attention strayed.

Of those gathered, she was one of those they felt an affinity towards; Bernard, who seemed to have issues similar to both Emily and themselves, was another. Keandre was an interesting man, one they felt mildly curious about. They had felt an initial wariness towards Russel and Serena simply due to their profession, though that caution had mainly been dispersed until now. Alex was an unknown, troubled by something less well defined, yet Valerian had no urge to pry where it was unwanted.

Since they were turned towards the group, they noticed Linda beckoning them closer, and they abided, approaching. Then, the doctor’s assistant led them inside, and Val noted that it must be time to do so. Though it was not at all unusual that not every patient had chosen to come today, they couldn’t help but be uncharacteristically worried. Hope they’re alright, they inhaled sharply, sucking both cheeks between their teeth and biting once.

They trailed behind the others, though Linda insisted to go last for some reason. Upon entering the reception area, they removed their hood and shook it off. Valerian also loosened their scarf, pushing it below their chin, though they did not remove it yet. Instinctively, their palms clasped each other, and they looked down at them, pondering whether to remove the gloves or not. Before the decision could be made, Linda progressed towards the elevator, and they focused on following.

Honestly, they might prefer taking the stairs, but it’d take longer, and it would probably just make them more anxious on top. So, they went into the metal contraption, and stuck to one of the side walls, neither in front nor to the back. They ignored the presence of other people’s bodies so close to or intruding upon their personal space, which they were well-practiced at doing.

When the elevator doors opened, their head snapped up, and their breath stuttered. It was as if the scent of death invaded from the corridor, and there was a collective stillness; a deer-in-the-headlights look of startled prey. They…didn’t have much choice but to exit, Valerian supposed, even if the notion had their heart beating wildly. They could see what the hall was like; all damaged, and torn apart, as if something had clawed its way out. It was one of their most fearful delusions realized; blatant signs of shadowy creatures manifested, Eaters of light and people and everything one might hold dear.

With Linda in the lead, the group eventually spilled out, though Valerian still felt terribly reluctant. They had the brief thought of, Safety in numbers? but also, Easier to target…Every motion forward deepened their unease, the ominous creaking of the floor grating on their nerves. When they entered the office, and their gaze alighted on Stanton’s contorted form, all their suspicions were confirmed. “No,” the moan left their lips unbidden, a quiet whine of utter despair. “No, no, no, no,” they whispered, a feeble denial.

Their sight was blurring, and Valerian absently realized they were tearing up, crying near-silently. Under the utter horror, a fascination for the cor… – the piece emerged. It was set into one of the standard buddha poses. Left hand raised – shouldn’t it be right? Those fingers…pose odd? Fault of---of age? Artistic freedom? Purposeful? Stanton's eyes had been torn out, stolen. That fact left such a conflicting feeling of right-wrong that their stomach roiled in revulsion. Valerian closed their eyes, thinking better thoughts. May his soul be safe and let him rest in peace. A moment as they tried to collect their breathing, then they once again gazed at the human installation project, taking in further details.

Enlightenment, but perverted; forced by outside intervention; the subject did not have the opportunity to reach it on their own; a warning, punishment for seeking what one might not be prepared for? They walked slowly around the deceased, observing the body, noting a dark powder had been spread around. Metal rods to affix the spine; clever. Cause of death? They did not want to consider that notion too deeply. They did notice that the left arm did not need to be affixed in any way. Muscles locked in; rigor mortis?

Finally, they noticed the piece of paper, which had remained out of their awareness until then. The message…the message, oh god, the message. “They-they’re onto us,” Valerian whispered hoarsely, voice heavily affected by the swirl of negative emotions attempting to overtake their senses. They walked away from the soulless shell, stopping at the threshold they'd crossed not long ago, lingering by the office's door. Their inspection of Stanton was completed, and now they were turning their head left and right as they tried to take note of where everyone was. “We,” they coughed to clear their voice. “We should get out of here,” they advised; they attempted to sound firm, but though they were loud enough for those closest by to hear them, Val’s fear was likely evident.

Nightland

Valerian Nico Alvarez-Knight

Valerian woke from a fitful slumber, hazy impressions of eerie dreams fading into a gradual alertness. They had a few recollections immediately upon rousing; drowning in toxic yellowish gas, scrambling for breath, bodies mingling close-by facing the same predicament, a mechanical being – contraption? – emerging in their vision, a susurration of voices offering advice, guiding, tempting with forbidden knowledge, deceiving with the unknowable…

Val shook out of it with a sigh, nighttime hauntings morphing into the jittery anxiety of what they already recognized as the start of a Bad Day. Scratching at their inner upper arms, shallowly marking the already irritated skin, Valerian stumbled out of the bed. Thankfully, it was the only one in the cramped bedroom/living room of the dorm, though the bathroom the student shambled to was shared with one other. However, it was early enough that they did not have to wait to have access, and so they did their morning ritual of toilet, shower, tooth brushing, and hair combing, all without ever looking into the mirror. The clear, artificial reflective surfaces gave them the creeps; they always got the feeling that something else was lurking on the other side. Besides, ever since they nearly disassociated from staring into the reflection of their own eyes, they had all the more reason to refrain from checking their image unless absolutely necessary.

The next step was to check their daily agenda – it was a Thursday, which meant Stanton in the evening, thank God – taking their meds (and making a note that they did so), and getting ready for the rest of the day. The routine was mindless, their focus fleeting, thoughts skittering from topic to topic, but keenly drawn to various paranoid musings. Fuck, is it surveillance? Human or non-? Will they get me today? God, I don’t wanna be disappeared like that…A tremulous exhale as Valerian did their best to come to grips with reality, but sneakily checked for shadows that might be too long or too deep, the glint of cameras (or eyes), misplaced sounds. It felt like something was there, observing, hiding, watching; waiting to strike. Val hunched into themselves as they picked their attire, firmly thinking different thoughts. It would soon be Christmas; they still had to get gifts for the family…a family lacking Vivi. With a shudder, they bit their lip; her death was still fucking devastating even three years later (and counting). Closing their eyes, they offered a silent, wordless prayer. Then, a comforting thought. Right, it’s Stanton day. Just get through all else, and you can see him, talk to him. And the others, yeah. It’ll help.

And then you’ll be fine. Just fine. Right. Fine.

***

It was finally evening, and when Valerian stepped off the bus at the station just by the monument, they had a pressing need to meet with Stanton face to face. All day long they’d been plagued by whispers, nearly inaudible voices whispering to them or about them, laughing or urging, driving them to distraction even when they’d plugged their ears with buds and tried to drown out the auditory hallucinations with music. Every person they’d seen today had seemed more suspicious than usual, and they hadn’t been able to shake off the notion that they were being followed even when no one but them was there.

Their black boots crunched on the fresh layer of snow swiftly melting into indistinguishable slush on the salted sidewalk. Valerian paced steadily towards the meeting spot, head tilted down. They drew the coat (black, faux leather) tighter to their body, its hood offering additional protection, and their backpack (carrying a wallet, water, folding umbrella, bandages, gauze, and scissors) slid slightly down their right shoulder. They were glad for all the layers they’d put on for the evening; leather gloves (black, studded), two shirts and a pullover underneath the coat, thick jeans (black) shredded very lightly at the knees which revealed the crimson nylons (very warm) underneath. The wine red knitted scarf was wrapped around their neck and half their face, and the clammy breath being blown back into their face didn’t bother them as much as the cold would. The exposed piercings (eyebrow studs and two pairs of rings, cuff and chain industrial, as well as a pair of crimson crosses for the ears) were cooling quicker than their skin, and the effect was a startlingly cold pinched feeling, almost as if someone had pressed ice cubes there.

Though uncomfortable, the cold was grounding. It was a matter of a couple or so minutes before Valerian was at the monument, though their steps faltered when they saw Linda, the assistant, waiting along those who’d already arrived. Val wasn’t sure why, but seeing her there felt wrong. Still, they walked the remaining few steps towards the group, nodding at the gathering. They recognized all of them without having to look at their faces; Valerian was more familiar with their figure, attire, and – though most of those were currently covered – their hands. He very rarely looked at other people’s faces, and almost never directly into their eyes.

Rather than strike up a conversation, as a few had chosen to do, Valerian lingered on the outer boundaries of the group; still a part of them, but not directly involved with anyone there. They weren’t much for small talk, especially not today. Their gaze darted around quickly, biting their lower lip. They felt antsy, keyed up, tense, and high-strung. If they could, they would be scratching at their skin; they had a brief longing for something sharper. Instead, they crossed their arms over their chest, practically hugging their torso, and a light shiver overtook them. They weren’t certain it was just due to the cold.

Nightland

The Artist

》NAME: Valerian Nico Alvarez-Knight

》AGE: 21

》HEIGHT & WEIGHT: 178 cm || 68 kg

》APPEARANCE

Long and gangly, Val is blatantly a youth who has not quite grown into their frame yet. Though not underweight, they are thin and boney, lacking in both muscle and fat, which gives them an overall delicate look. They have a light tawny complexion, and a scattering of acne across their face which they tend to cover up with makeup. Their face is thin with round eyes, high cheekbones, a perky upturned nose, and a sharp chin. They sport a pixie cut, the bangs covering nearly their whole forehead and constantly falling into their eyes until they push it aside. Valerian’s naturally dark brown hair is dyed dark blue. Their eyebrows are trimmed thin, and their hazel eyes are accentuated by a black eyeliner. Both of Val’s ears are pierced multiple times (triple lobe, industrial, helix), their left brow twice, and their right nostril once. They own an assortment of earrings to accessorize with.

They wear punk inspired fashion; jeans (ripped and/or patched), printed shirts, leather jackets, studded belts, clip-on chains, black combat boots, and some fitting necklaces, bracelets, and rings. Naturally, they paint all their nails a matte black (sometimes adding some more oomph). Valerian usually walks quickly, furtively; shoulders stooped, gaze turned downwards and darting around, and though appearing self-absorbed, they move fluidly through crowds and quickly become alert when something relevant (such as being called upon by an acquaintance) or potentially dangerous happens. In such cases, they temporarily draw up to their full height, straightening their spine and lifting their head for the duration of whatever event drew their attention.

》THE ISSUE: Delusional disorder

There were certain instances of oddness in Valerian's childhood, but nothing that’d be remarked upon as outrageously unusual; a few vivid nightmares, a penchant for depicting monstrous and visceral imagery, a brief interest for the occult and paranormal. Since those practices waned (or perhaps became entirely a private thing of Val’s), they were considered just another child and adolescent in the family of many; and who didn’t have a few quirks, after all? However, after their outgoing counterpart, a twin named Vivian Marsh, died just after their graduation, things went downhill. Valerian suffered a brief psychotic disorder and was hospitalized for the duration (two and a half weeks) of it. Afterwards, they were left dealing with an intense grief, and began experiencing delusions to the point of being diagnosed once again. With medication, a gap year to attend to their health, and regular visitations of group theory, their mental state has stabilized…though no one could say it's gone back to ‘normal’. Accompanying their diagnosis are bouts of anxiety, stress, and self-harm.

》BEFORE

Valerian was the third child (and their twin, Vivian, the fourth) of Maria Alvarez-Knight and Nelson Knight, a working-class mother and middle-class father. With two older siblings, Alicia (the oldest by 7 years) and Isaac (second oldest by 4 years), and a fairly large extended family, things were often hectic, especially for the holidays. The family’s financial situation was neither enviable nor pitiable; mostly, they were managing, sometimes very decently, other times with some amount of struggle. The children grew up quickly, especially Alicia, who moved away at 18 to live with some friends. While Isaac remained at home longer (if intermittently), he grew distant and distracted by work. And as for the youngest duo, they were raised less strictly, and led generally happy lives…until Vivian’s death, that is.

That one unexpected event deepened the existing cracks in the family life, bringing a persistent haze of grief, misery, and tension upon them. Valerian was the one most obviously affected, though of course they weren’t the only one to suffer. They did come to feel that their prolonged symptoms were of a more visible nature, and it has also become clear that their family did not appreciate or understand their delusions in the least. Valerian was sure their sister’s death was nothing mundane, became convinced they’d realized a slim slice of the Great Truth, sure that the World was conspiring against them for their insight. They were certainly aware that their beliefs caused unneeded strain between them and their family, and thus kept their convictions and recovery mainly to themselves. They’ve been staying at a dorm since starting college, their independent if rocky life inevitably being swept along by the uncaring march of time.

》TALENTS

Digital Arts: Having enjoyed drawing since childhood, and branching into using a variety of media later on, Valerian eventually ended up going for a BA at uni. They also make some extra cash off of commissions.

Sewing: Val has done DIY on their clothes since early adolescence, so they've learned to use both needle and thread and a sewing machine skillfully.

Knowledge of human anatomy: Nico was decent at biology both in elementary and high school, and considered becoming a doctor at one point. However, the demands were too high, and their interest not intense enough to purse that path after all. They have retained some facts though.

》ACTIONS

Avoid Harm +3
Endure Injury +1
Keep It Together -1
Act Under Pressure +1 (+1 when giving first aid, patching up wounds)
Engage In Combat 0
Influence Others -2
Sixth Sense +2

Nightland

The Artist

》NAME: Valerian Nico Alvarez-Knight

》AGE: 21

》HEIGHT & WEIGHT: 178 cm || 68 kg

》APPEARANCE

Long and gangly, Val is blatantly a youth who has not quite grown into their frame yet. Though not underweight, they are thin and boney, lacking in both muscle and fat, which gives them an overall delicate look. They have a light tawny complexion, and a scattering of acne across their face which they tend to cover up with makeup. Their face is thin with round eyes, high cheekbones, a perky upturned nose, and a sharp chin. They sport a pixie cut, the bangs covering nearly their whole forehead and constantly falling into their eyes until they push it aside. Valerian’s naturally dark brown hair is dyed dark blue. Their eyebrows are trimmed thin, and their hazel eyes are accentuated by a black eyeliner. Both of Val’s ears are pierced multiple times (triple lobe, industrial, helix), their left brow twice, and their right nostril once. They own an assortment of earrings to accessorize with.

They wear punk inspired fashion; jeans (ripped and/or patched), printed shirts, leather jackets, studded belts, clip-on chains, black combat boots, and some fitting necklaces, bracelets, and rings. Naturally, they paint all their nails a matte black (sometimes adding some more oomph). Valerian usually walks quickly, furtively; shoulders stooped, gaze turned downwards and darting around, and though appearing self-absorbed, they move fluidly through crowds and quickly become alert when something relevant (such as being called upon by an acquaintance) or potentially dangerous happens. In such cases, they temporarily draw up to their full height, straightening their spine and lifting their head for the duration of whatever event drew their attention.

》THE ISSUE: Delusional disorder

There were certain instances of oddness in Valerian's childhood, but nothing that’d be remarked upon as outrageously unusual; a few vivid nightmares, a penchant for depicting monstrous and visceral imagery, a brief interest for the occult and paranormal. Since those practices waned (or perhaps became entirely a private thing of Val’s), they were considered just another child and adolescent in the family of many; and who didn’t have a few quirks, after all? However, after their outgoing counterpart, a twin named Vivian Marsh, died just after their graduation, things went downhill. Valerian suffered a brief psychotic disorder and was hospitalized for the duration (two and a half weeks) of it. Afterwards, they were left dealing with an intense grief, and began experiencing delusions to the point of being diagnosed once again. With medication, a gap year to attend to their health, and regular visitations of group theory, their mental state has stabilized…though no one could say it's gone back to ‘normal’. Accompanying their diagnosis are bouts of anxiety, stress, and self-harm.

》BEFORE

Valerian was the third child (and their twin, Vivian, the fourth) of Maria Alvarez-Knight and Nelson Knight, a working-class mother and middle-class father. With two older siblings, Alicia (the oldest by 7 years) and Isaac (second oldest by 4 years), and a fairly large extended family, things were often hectic, especially for the holidays. The family’s financial situation was neither enviable nor pitiable; mostly, they were managing, sometimes very decently, other times with some amount of struggle. The children grew up quickly, especially Alicia, who moved away at 18 to live with some friends. While Isaac remained at home longer (if intermittently), he grew distant and distracted by work. And as for the youngest duo, they were raised less strictly, and led generally happy lives…until Vivian’s death, that is.

That one unexpected event deepened the existing cracks in the family life, bringing a persistent haze of grief, misery, and tension upon them. Valerian was the one most obviously affected, though of course they weren’t the only one to suffer. They did come to feel that their prolonged symptoms were of a more visible nature, and it has also become clear that their family did not appreciate or understand their delusions in the least. Valerian was sure their sister’s death was nothing mundane, became convinced they’d realized a slim slice of the Great Truth, sure that the World was conspiring against them for their insight. They were certainly aware that their beliefs caused unneeded strain between them and their family, and thus kept their convictions and recovery mainly to themselves. They’ve been staying at a dorm since starting college, their independent if rocky life inevitably being swept along by the uncaring march of time.

》TALENTS

Digital Arts: Having enjoyed drawing since childhood, and branching into using a variety of media later on, Valerian eventually ended up going for a BA at uni. They also make some extra cash off of commissions.

Sewing: Val has done DIY on their clothes since early adolescence, so they've learned to use both needle and thread and a sewing machine skillfully.

Knowledge of human anatomy: Nico was decent at biology both in elementary and high school, and considered becoming a doctor at one point. However, the demands were too high, and their interest not intense enough to purse that path after all. They have retained some facts though.

》ACTIONS

Avoid Harm +3
Endure Injury +1
Keep It Together -1
Act Under Pressure +1 (+1 when giving first aid, patching up wounds)
Engage In Combat 0
Influence Others -2
Sixth Sense +2

Oh, btw, since I dislike using photos of actual people, I do hope a description will suffice.

Nightland — (modern, paranormal, urban mystery, horror)

Ooh, seems like it could be my thing.

From goblins to godhood (re:monster rp)

@Jangel13 Sorry to say, but I'm not really interested in this anymore. I was thinking about posting but it already feels like a chore, so since I'm meh about it, I'll be taking my leave.

To everyone who's spoken to Lexie, assume she went scouting and wandered too far. Also, sorry for any inconvenience.

From goblins to godhood (re:monster rp)

Lexie

---

Day 0 / Church -> Outside / Goblin

Interactions: @Crusader Lord@TheMushroomLord@Jangel13

---

“Thanks for the story, Elder, it was an interesting one,” she offered him a clouse-mothed smile. She memorized the info about the gods, and thought about it. Given Kir’s ability to copy weapons, and some of the hobgoblins’ actions, magic was obviously possible. So, maybe gods existed too. Or maybe they were just powerful (maybe also dead) beings who liked being worshipped.

Which Lexie wasn’t opposed to the concept of deities or worshipping them, as long as she got something useful out of doing so. The one that interested her the most was Duvelna, the goddess of death and night. She supposed she could ask about her or worshipping in general sometime later.

For now, Lexie grabbed one of the hides at his feet and wrapped it around herself like a skirt. Well, it was more of a furry toga if anything, but it’d keep her warm and unexposed.

She returned to her sisters. Aya was talking about a new plan for her traps. “An ambush and a trap? Sounds good to me,” she said. “As for the weapon, pick whatever you like,” she shrugged.

Suddenly and in the middle of their conversation, one of their brothers came back inside, a rabbit’s horn and hide in his arms. He shoved the items at Aya and began dragging her away. “Hey!” Lexie shouted at the abrupt goblin brother. Before she could do much but step forward, Kir already got involved, confronting Argos by bonking him on the head and insulting him.

Well, at least that got his intention. Lexie sighed, and walked over. “Do what you like, but if you want to involve others, you should ask before just dragging them away, you know,” she pointed out to Argos.

After he left, she turned to her sisters. “I don’t know if we’re a good match with that guy, though he could probably come in handy in some way,” she said, shrugging once more. “For now…it’s time to head out, huh?” she asked, and glanced towards the gobs before heading towards the open exit. At the church’s door, she waited for her sisters, but also looked outside. She went just a few steps further, enough to be able to observe what was going on in the vicinity.

Some of her siblings were already out there, chasing rabbits nearby. There was grass, there were bushes and trees, and she assumed there were rabbits there somewhere too. Lexie hoped the others weren’t so loud that they’d already scared the rabbits away. If they had, she and her sisters might have to head further away from the church. If they could, she’d much prefer to find their prey as near as possible. As such, Lexie looked closely around, noting what was where and who was where. She thought about where the rabbits might hide if they wanted to do so and about where and how she could hide to surprise and catch or intercept them.

Summary

Finishes her talk with gramps.
Takes one rabbit hide from gramps' stash and ties it around herself.
Goes to speak to Aya and Kir about hunting.
Offers a grumbling advice to Argos.
Suggests to the sisters that they should go outside.
Goes to the church’s door and takes a few steps outside.
Looks around, trying to get a scope of the land and the positions of any visible gobs and rabbits.
Considers where good hiding spots might be.

The Devil Hunter Agency

Hoshio Kikuchi

When Hoshio grabbed his bow and quiver, Maria questioned his lack of effort at a disguise. He looked her up and down, and nodded once. “You do look appropriately tourist-y and nonthreatening,” he stated matter-of-factly. “However, the two of us don’t have to go so far; we can just pretend to be martial artists, ya know. Kyudo and Iaido aren’t so rare around here,” he shrugged. Of course, it was still a bit odd, but most people weren’t willing to question a ‘practice’ weapon too much. And for those who did, Hoshio did in fact have a membership card for the nearest archery.

Mai then showed that she’d been thinking ahead, and had got a charm that could detect devils. Should have thought of that myself, Hoshio smiled wryly. He didn’t show the slight embarrassment he felt, though.

“Oh, awesome, Mai. Thanks,” Hoshio nodded approvingly and in gratitude to his coworker. The aforementioned bell rung once, and the hunter immediately tensed, then forcefully relaxed. In that moment, however, he’d switched to work mode, and he was already gazing up at the shrine. “Let’s go,” he stated. Maria had not even waited for his order, and had just rushed ahead. This time, Hoshio did not mind so much.

Soon after, screams could be heard. “Dammit,” Hoshio swore, and hurried up the stairs. By the time he arrived at the temple, Maria was already swinging her blazing weapon and knocking zombified civilians around. “Good going, but try not to burn down the shrine!” he shouted, hoping he’d be heard.

Hoshio swiftly notched the first arrow, and started to rain missiles down upon the swarm of monsters and rocks. He did frown at the infected people; there was no way all of those had been up here for the devil to change. So, where’d the leader get them? Did it lead them there or had it brought them there otherwise? He didn’t know, but he’d take care of as many of the little guys, the rocks they carried, and the scattered rocks as he could.

He’d noted the scales – a snake devil’s shed skin – but it was dormant for now, so he left it alone. Hoshio did find this whole thing odd though. Again, it seemed like two or more types of devils might be working together, and he wasn’t sure how much of it was a coincidence. Either they’d all come on their own because of the rocks, or perhaps some had already chosen to organize to get the rocks together? The latter option would be especially dangerous for the DHA, so Hoshio made a mental note to alert the higher ups of the possibility of devils cooperating.

From goblins to godhood (re:monster rp)

Yea, here. I am gonna post at some point, probably not today tho.

From goblins to godhood (re:monster rp)

Would you ladies like argos to help? His skull can force enemies into a confrontation thereby eliminating the problem of a target simply running away. He could literally direct the enemy to your traps

@Jangel13

Lexie wants to try ambushing at least one rabbit on her own. If they fail afterwards in the trapping attemps, help could be good. But this also brings to mind the following question: how is xp upon a kill distributed? Does everyone participating in it get the xp?