Heya. Getting back into text based RP after a long binge of DND/Pathfinder as it's more schedule friendly and I happened upon this lovely site.
Down for most roleplays as I'm looking to improve my writing ability and connect with other cool people. Only really draw the line at erp as that's just not my cup of tea.
If you wanna chat, shoot me a dm! Would be more than happy to entertain anyone who stumbles upon this.
If you've got any recommendations about the site, that'd also be lovely to know! I'm very new here after all!
They say the world wasn’t always so dark, that we needn’t rely on aether lanterns to warm our homes and our streets. Before our people moved to this place, the ‘sun’ shone above the land and warmed the surface for half a day. A beautiful thing, supposedly, but not one that exists. For if we, the last vestiges of mankind, have not found it, then it is surely a myth no more real than dragons or angels.
Now, our society thrives in spite of the setbacks thrown at us. A sprawling city of twenty million souls. Starvation is a rarity, and nearly all have a home. But what if I told you a secret - one that very few people knew? What if I told you the lanterns that lit our streets, the trains that travel throughout Caligo, and the world we live in is fueled by the ‘gifted’. An ironic name, in truth.
You see, these ‘gifted’ possess a much larger pool of Aether to draw on. The fourth dimensional compound, they call it. We can’t see it, smell it, feel it, hear it, or taste it, but it’s there. There’s a reason we trade in gold, silver and jewels. For they are the conductors. The ‘gifted’, however, do not need these earthly things. They can use it. They can bring it to life, in what many describe as magic.
However, they are dangerous. A lack of control springs disasters to life, and kills hundreds of people. Whenever you see a news report about a ‘gas leak’ or an ‘earthquake’, it’s unlikely to be the truth. It’s usually that a new mage was born, and taken into custody, to the places that fuel this great metropolis. You see, this aether is not a naturally occurring substance. It is something directly harvested from these people, who live in vast prisons hidden throughout our city. Some are disguised among regular buildings, others are underground, but none are known to the general public.
I bet you’re wondering how I know this. It’s because my job is to hunt these people down. A selective program upon our police force is in place to find these hunters, though we’re known by the term Venators. It’s not an easy duty to accept. These people, aside from their strange eyes and hair, look, act and feel like us. But when you see the destruction that they’re capable of, and the benefits they bring to the rest of society by being in chains, it’s easier to become resistant to compassion when it serves no purpose.
Information
1. The Story - This is a story about a mage outbreak - a rare and incidental occurrence. Within this city, the ‘gifted’ are either not known about, or heavily stigmatised. And those who know what is good for them, hide their gifts to avoid the ‘Venators’, a force designated to hunt and capture renegades and freshly born mages. Will you adapt to the world or rebel against it? You will either be playing a group of ‘gifted’ or a group of freshly recruited Venators.
2. Character Creation - This roleplay is evoking middle fantasy elements, steampunk inspirations and a number of other things. It is however, not a wish fulfillment RP nor is it a high fantasy one. There are methods and systems to how things work, and they should be somewhat feasible, not simply hand waved away with “muh magic.” I’m fine with edge, melodramatics and whatnot but don’t overplay it. This isn’t supposed to be some insane anime plot where you killed your entire clan, I’d like to maintain a good degree of potential realism to the world.
There’s a lot of options in regards to races, though blood is often heavily diluted and rarely comes through heavily, so for the most part, you’re humans. As for art, I’m ok with anime art, but fantasy art is preferred to better reflect uniqueness.
3. Conduct - This is not a high activity RP, but one where I’d like people to be able to take time out of their day once every two to three weeks and make a good, well written post that serves a purpose. I don’t really think there’s a place for metagaming, powerplaying, asspulling, though it’s bound to happen to some degree with all of us because people are incapable of not doing it at least subconsciously.(myself included). That being said, this is a collaborative storytelling exercise, and if we have disagreements, we can usually solve it or result to the whims of the gods(a discord dicebot)
4. Death - It’s not something I’m looking to make happen, but if you make consistently bad/risky choices and get unlucky as a result, then it can. Like I said, asspulling and wish fulfillment are not the name of the RP. Should it happen though, we can always bring another character into the story within reason.
5. Magic - The system I’m going for is not largely concrete nor understood by the people of the world fully. I’m taking inspiration from things like Hunter X Hunter, Jujutsu Kaisen, Bleach, and trying to add a level of realism to them to make it feasible. Sometimes, I will not succeed in this task, though know that I am trying. This being said though, there is no asspull powerups. There is no gold experience requiem, or time reversal, or any other world breaking power that needs another world breaking power to defeat. That’s my primary goal in this experience.
Little Orchid Shopping Center - A place for the whole family to have some fun! It's lit brightly by rainbow aether lamps, and has a whole menagerie of activities to choose from, ranging from a spot of light shopping, to fairground rides fit for the whole family. Ferris wheels, bumper carts, merry-go-rounds, toy stores and candy shops galore! A children's paradise, with several getaways for the parents to leave their little tots to their fun. For the low price of 2 solidus a person entry fee(children under 12 go free when accompanied by a parent), it's a land of fun where dreams come true!
There's a secret to this place though. Beneath this family friendly theme park and mall, there's a 'daycare' or a 'warehouse' depending on who you ask and when you ask. Beneath the concrete runs thick aether-conducting cables that power many of the street lamps and attractions in the surrounding area. A correctional facility for the gifted of over one thousand people lies beneath. Darker still, it currently holds the largest amount of B+ graded gifted out of any such facility, meaning that the place where peoples children go and play on fairground rides, and mothers buy baby clothes, is right above one of the most dangerous places in the city.
Thankfully, it's very well secured. As all of you are familiar with by the heavy metal collars on your necks, bindings on your hands and the frequent exposure to needles and chemicals, your aether is subdued to a point of dormancy, only manifesting to be drawn into many of the massive platinum coils throughout the facility. It could be worse though. There's all the facilities a normal prison would have, and the food is far from the worst you've likely eaten in your lifetime. Supposedly, it's necessary to keep the aether flowing. It does not keep the guards from their cruelty though. Infightings are surprisingly common, despite the lack of difference between everyone.
And that's not to mention what the high grades have to go through. Only a few have seen them. Big tanks, filled to the brim with liquid metal and tubage to feed them. In a permanent state of sedation. Maybe it's better than what we go through. Or perhaps it's so much worse. We have no way of knowing. Regardless, life down here isn't good. It's not strictly bad either, if you think of the amount of suffering we endure. It's just nothing. And for some, nothing is ok.
But still, does freedom not call to you? Do your joints not ache from the bindings? Do you not wish to return to the homes and families you once had? Essentially, you're all going to be mages imprisoned at Little Orchid's 'Daycare', a ironic name for the sort of place it is. Your backstory should lead to your imprisonment here.
The World
The world that the roleplay takes place in has a lot of mystery behind it, and I’d like to keep a lot of that to OOC as well so that when reveals take place, there’s a greater degree of ‘oh shit’ than normal. However, there is plenty to be shared, especially general stuff about this city and the denizens who dwell within it. The general tech level that’s occurring is around the 1950s-1980s, with some things further along due to technology that utilizes Aether, and some are further behind. Expect trains, blimps, neon lights, skyscrapers and a sense of urban adventure to this dark fantasy.
A defining trait that is known by all is that the world is quite literally dark. There is no sun in the sky, only the stars and the aether lamps that both heat and brighten the city. In some private, richer districts, they have lamps so bright that they act as artificial suns but those are few and far between, and reserved for the wealthiest among society. Besides that, homelessness and hunger are not common happenings within Caligo. In spite of the land, the main problems that plague society are inequality and drug use. Homelessness and famine are lower than even todays standards in modern times simply due to the culture in place.
The City of Caligo is said to have come about from a great exodus. Apparently, many people saw a 'calamity' coming and migrated to this dark place to avoid such an occurance. Life was hard, made harder still when the waves of migration came. But, with hard times came great people who innovated and expanded the systems. The first Aether Lamps were built 300 years ago. Far more primitive and energy costly than the ones we have now, but it provided warmth to the first settlers. The remnants are at the hall of progress, where the initial designs are shown to the public. An innovation that has fueled this settlement to be sure.
When this calamity came, walls were erected. Supposedly, nothing remains outside of these lands but beasts and demons who dwell in the shadows. Not a pleasant thought and likely untrue, but there does remain the question of what lies beyond the walls. Occasionally, they're expanded to account for population growth, but that hasn't been done in the last 50 years. I wonder just how far they could go.
Every living being possesses Aether. It is, in some ways, an embodiment of the soul. To put it in video game terms, it’s your mana bar. However, the ‘gifted’ or mages have a venerable excess of this in varying degrees. It is not known what causes one to have more or less, but the amount you can hold at one time tends to be concrete for the most part. For those that are 'gifted', the body naturally restores it much quicker than a civilian, but it is by no means instant.
Aether cannot be senses by normal means. To those who possess it in great quantity however, the ability exists to 'see' it. However, the proof that it exists for your average person is that it can be stored by precious metals, to varying degrees. Gold, silver, platinum, precious jewels and the like are a valuable commodity because of this reason, but they must be pure in order to do so. A platinum core is essential in modern Aether Lamp designs due to its high melting point.
Using these materials in instruments is the only way for non-gifted to access their own personal supply of Aether. The main recipient of this is weaponry, though there is plenty of civilian applications. These have to be done sparingly, for a civilian fully depleting their supply of Aether can lead to serious health complications that most commonly result in death, so caution is highly advised when using such implements.
Fundamentally, magic is a miracle. It can make the impossible, well, possible. It is a 3 stage process. Conversion, Materialization, Release. Magic is by no means a simple thing to do or achieve, even to those that are 'gifted' but when realized, a mage is a truly terrifying thing to behold.
Conversion is taking the Aether that is latent to you, and transferring it into energy that you can use. Materialization is taking your thoughts and using the energy to manifest them into a technique or spell. Release, is well, emitting such a thing into the world. It sounds simple, but it is a difficult system to master. Convert too much, your body will implode from the energy. Materialize poorly and you simply won't have a spell. Release too late and you'll blow yourself up. There's inherent risk to using magic without fully understanding the 3 core principles.
The way we help these techniques is through components. Verbal, somatic and material are helpful, because our brains subconsciously do a lot of the work. It's often a cliche in TV shows for a hero to shout the name of his power and do a gesture, or swing a wand around, but it actually assists in the casting process by creating a relationship in your brain. Think of it as having a calculator to solve a complex math problem rather than working it out on a sheet of paper. Of course, there are advantages to skipping this process, such as being able to better hide your casting, but you're using a lot more brain power on such a thing.
Going from this, the usage of Aether in its innate form is simple. The first thing most mages learn before any cool mega fireballs, or summoning blades is emission, strengthening and fortification. Being able to strengthen your body is the most crucial thing, as being taken out by a bullet before you can get a spell off means you're not much of a threat. Strengthening the body allows you to outspeed and outmuscle those you shouldn't, simply by virtue of your magic, which is another crucial step. Emission is being able to fire magical energy at another. A simple, always useful technique. Though, in its formless state, it has much less blasting power than a mega fireball, it's still capable of taking people out.
Once these hurdles are gone through though, the possibilities of shaping your magic are infinite. Of course, creating a technique and spell takes time and a lot of brain power. There's only so many techniques you can actively use, and the more complex and powerful, the less space for others you have. Some people like to have a versatile toolbox of abilities to be able to pull from, and some like to have a bazooka. Whatever the case, know your limits when creating techniques.
As said before, techniques in some capacity are 'miracles'. They can manifest the abstract into reality. For instance, if you wanted to have a technique to generate ice, the aether will find a way to make it work. If you want your technique to heal, the aether will instinctively cause the body to clock in overdrive and cause the natural regeneration to take a matter of minutes rather than months, and perhaps it could go even beyond that. Even in the abstract, should someone want their technique to say, manifest a system of gambling in which they could receive a colossal amount of energy or lose it all, it COULD be done. It may be complex, but the manifestation of aether would make the impossible possible. So long as there are sufficient tradeoffs. The limit is imagination for the most part.
There is said to be a higher level of power said to be attainable once the technique has been mastered, a final release if you will, but it is a very rare phenomenon. A way to overcome the limits of your aether capacity, to amplify your technique to a new level. (More to be revealed)
-UNDER CONSTRUCTION-
-UNDER CONSTRUCTION-
There are ways to spot the gifted in a crowd. They posssess traits different to the average person as a result of their exceptional reserves of aether, and this usually manifests in strange colored hair, strange colorations on the eyes, heterochromia, strange pigmentations on the skin, gigantism, dwarfism, claws where nails should be, etc. It's said that aether is an extension of the soul, and these manifest because of that, a truer self emerges, but that could just be hearsay from mages that wish to justify themselves. Those born with these differentials are often extremely unlucky and constantly discriminated against, but alas, they're far from the prisons once the truth of their nature is out.
What potentially makes it not hearsay, is 'restrictions'. A trade of the soul to the body. Oftentimes, these are pure 50/50 exchanges. The loss of use of the legs in return for a greater than average aether supply. Poor vision in exchange for supernatural hearing. An inability to manifest magic in return for a superhuman body. Regardless, they exist and are usually designated from birth, and doing so intentionally has never really been manifested. They break all known laws of science, and yet they are present, giving some weight to the theory.
Because of these abnormalities however, there exists a rather large black market within the city for contraband that allows the user to mask these traits. Hair dye, wigs and contact lenses are the big sellers, as is cosmetic surgery. These practices and items have been banned by the official government of Caligo, but of course, where there is interest and money, there is sales. What seems silly could help save a trip to the cells after all.
Within the dark world of Mages and Venators, officials have been given rankings and grades corresponding to their level of capability. All mages are ranked from F to S, S being kept for those who are exceptions to the rules, ones who could truly threaten the city as a whole. These rankings can change, and for mages, they are mostly based on the amount of Aether they possess. For Venators, it is the innate capabilities they are capable of, and as a result, the rankings are far more flexible and based on accomplishments.
A general idea of what the rankings represent for mages are such, by official Venator handbook rules:
F - Barely above civilian level. Does not constitute a significant threat even if free. E - A low level mage, could kill a fresh Venator without sufficient preparation. Could kill a number of civilians before response if free. D - A threat to multiple low ranking Venators, but not much to a highly seasoned one with preperation. C - A genuine threat, and a mine of Aether. These mages need to be kept secure within second level of any cells they're in, and closely monitored. Could, without interference, destroy an entire neighborhood before a sufficient response could be organized. B - If free, requires at least an A rank Venator to respond to the issue. They possess a genuinely terrifying reserve of aether and have the capacity to develop truly lethal techniques. If left untethered, could destroy an entire city block before sufficient responses could call in. A - The creme of the crop. Requires either multiple A-Rank Venators or an S rank to deal with. At this point, the potential for development of techniques requires only their imagination. With the amount of Aether they possess, they could fuel a good chunk of their city based on their own supply. If let free, they would pose a remarkable challenge to re-contain. S - The exceptions to the rules. These mages are to be discovered and kept locked away, and used for the betterment of the city. It would require an S rank Venator to kill or contain them before the manifestation of a technique, and a team at minimum afterward. These should not be allowed to walk free from containment, for their value to the city is equivalent to one hundred C's at minimum.
On a general level, we will be playing characters at C+
-UNDER CONSTRUCTION-
Character Sheets
Full Name
A character quote or motto
Age | Gender | Assigned Grade
P E R S O N A L I T Y
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So, I know that your conception of your character can change as the story moves along or even as you write this application and get a feel for her. The purpose of this exercise is to try to think of five (or possibly more) essential traits, followed by a brief paragraph below the bullet points to summarize what your character is like and how we can expect her to interact with others.
C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E
What does your character look like? How does he dress? How old is he? What are his defining features? Does he have any particularly noteworthy traits, birthmarks, possessions, or scars?
M A G I C
-UNDER CONSTRUCTION-
B A C K S T O R Y
M O T I V A T I O N
I N V E N T O R Y
-UNDER CONSTRUCTION-
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S
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W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S
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Nobody's perfect. What are some things that your character just tends to struggle with? What are some personality traits of his that may cause problems for himself and others? Is there anything that most people might expect him to know that he doesn't?
S T A T S
These reflect capabilities that your character has. These scale from 1-10, with 3 being around the level of a civilian(save for aether control/reserves). They are broad, but help define a characters skillset. For instance, a high dexterity/agility character will be an apt lockpick, or stealthier than average. A high wisdom character will be generally more perceptive/insightful etc. You will have 40 points to distribute across the board as you see fit. These may change throughout the course of your RP, this is just your starting point!
Anything not covered above goes here. You can leave this blank if you like.
It's not all bad. I'm told when to wake up, when to eat, when to shit, and when to sleep, but I'm alive and fed. The walls are white, blindingly so. And the collar is too tight sometimes. I've developed a new method of sleeping because of it. If you don't get your 8 hours, you tend to drop. I've seen a few people go that way, newbies and kids. Never seen what happens to the bodies, but if you've got a vivid imagination, you can take a guess.
These inner conflicts I've been having with myself - was it really my fault? Aside from having a strange tint to my eyes, and a few streaks of red in my hair, there was never any signs to it. I was a construction worker, like everyone else. Supposedly, I manifested it later than others but was I really responsible for their deaths? I went to work on the new buildings in Eltmer Square like everyone else that day. Had my lunch, some banter with the colleagues. James and Mike were always a good chat, they were ribbing me for not asking out the receptionist at Fergusons. I got embarrassed about it and told 'em to stop. Stubbed my toe on a toolbox. Next thing I knew, I woke up to corpses on a scaffold and I was surrounded by people in suits.
Turns out I have aether in excess. They say I'm 'gifted'. Living like this doesn't really seem like a gift though. If I killed them, why did I do it? It's easy to say you're a good person - but I am, or was? I lived responsibly. Looked after my grandma. Fed stray cats on my way to work. I refuse to believe I'd ever do that - and if they know how to supress this 'gift', then why am I still here? I miss the outside world, the lights, having a drink with my friends. Could I not wear this big cumbersome collar at my own house? Why am I living like a chicken in one of those highrise farms?
I know the answer, and it's one I'm not comfortable accepting. This is how the city runs. They need people like us to fuel it. And I think I've come to realize I'm not the good person I thought I was. So long as it didn't harm me, I was alright doing shit for others. But, I can't live like this, treated like a stray dog that'd bite the hand of others. The others are arranging a breakout, and I'm joining them. We've been planning it for months. Some of the others know how to use their gifts. They've made techniques - spells - magics with them. Supposedly, it can be controlled. And if I get out of here, perhaps I can go back to a normal life. Maybe I'll see that pretty receptionist again. Or maybe I'll be hunted down like a dog by those people in suits. Whatever it is, it's better than this. I'm tired of living in a cage.
Tommy is someone who fears nothing. Not because he is brave, but because he does not understand the consequences to his actions. He lives as he wishes, and relishes in the joys that the world has to offer. Gambling? What a thrill. Fighting? Exhilarating. Debauchery? He's all for it. What defines him is a continuous search for excitement, pleasure and joy in the world he's been so lucky to survive in as a commoner, all the while he continues to expand power and accumulate such wondrous experiences. A dilemma rests within his crass, confident personality though. Is he slowly becoming a member of the ruling class that he once so despised? Should he seek its downfall, when he lies so close to truly joining that circle that's so far away?
Tommy is an unshakeable confident guy, yet he does not mind being the underdog. He lets people underestimate him, jeer, jape, laugh behind his back. He lets them think he's a dumb commoner scumbag that was stealing rings and horses before getting a lucky scholarship here because he takes pride in who he is, and makes no attempt to deny it. And it makes him look all the more better when he knocks them flat on their ass. Tommy loves who he is, he loves his family and he loves the way of life he follows.
C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E
Tommy isn't the picture of beauty, but it's not like he's ugly either. Messy brown hair, grey eyes and sharp cheekbones carry a decent chunk of the load, and to be quite honest, he's probably one of the better looking people in his family. He stands on the shorter side(around 5'7), but doesn't display the typical insecurity by a shorter man, but revels in it. Besides that, the man has an exceptional physique, one that both holds an extraordinary amount of musculature and yet looks very aesthetically pleasing. What is even more odd is that he is not the type to train in that regard. Do drunken bar brawls really give you that kind of build?
His dress differs greatly depending on what he's aiming to accomplish. Strutting through lessons, or going about his business? Loose, casual attire. Trying to impress a highborn lady? The only suit he owns, perfume, the works. The man knows little about fashion sense, and usually looks for advice on the matter, but does have a love for jewellery when he's not on the job. Rings, chains, necklaces, the works.
Tommy was born to a mother on the streets of Barrowton, a middling city in the state of Enth, in a rather large family of travelers. He grew up in a massive household, with over 7 siblings, typical of a peasant. But he was somewhat special, in that he had a latent magical ability. Only a couple of his siblings could say the same, and he was the youngest. Surprisingly enough, also the only trueborn human of the group. For among his siblings counted a menagerie of halfbreeds, and nary a father that stayed among them. Perhaps it was because such a large family kept on expanding, growing bigger and bigger. For the Kavanagh's did not move alone, but as a unit. Uncles, aunts, grandparents, the troupe stayed together whenever and wherever they went.
Even though Tommy knew he was special among his family for possessing the rare gift of magic, he believed he was special for another reason. His mother told him that she had only bore children of important and special men, and that he was one such child. A bastard son of Prince John of Enth, who had visited her bed. Whether this is true is something that is highly questionable, even given the Prince's demeanor and antics, but there is something of a resemblance in the two. Besides, he had a bloodtype! Isn't that something only those fancy noble folks get?
And growing up around his vast family in the rougher parts of Enth, Tommy quickly learned what it was like to go to bed with an empty stomach. The thrill of stealing a horse from some middling merchant, and eating securely for a week. He became something of a myth in Barrowton, or so he says. The truth of the matter remains, he learned a lot of the tricks of the trade in that not so lovely part of the world. Thievery, gambling, drinking, spending every spare coin he got on a sneaky trip to a brothel, it was more than enough for him to live happily.
One day, the Kavanagh's packed their bags and set off on a boat to the city of Ersand'Enise. He was upset to leave his hometown behind, but the way of their people dictated that they travel, and so they did. This city was nicer, richer, but they never saw much of inside the walls. Instead, they worked in Moli's emporium in Mudville. A pleasant enough place, not too dissimilar to his homeland despite better weather. Surprisingly, he adapted far better to this climate than to his former homes.
Job security was snatched away from him when Moli's was destroyed by a band of rampaging noble kids. He saw a lot of it. As did his family. Thankfully, they never lost anyone, but a lot of people he cared about perished in the fires and collapses that occurred. It was not something the school could so easily sweep under the rug. And having lost their jobs, his parents were given a boon to stay silent. A free ride for one of your kids to attend the prodigious academy, if they had the manas. His sister would have been a prime candidate, a half-yasoi, but she sadly was a couple years too old. He, however, was in the prime age range. 17 years old and just enough manas to pass the test, he was admitted in.
The next year of school was a grand old time. He learned a lot of magic, and his innate ability helped with that learning, but the books were still an issue. It took him a while to learn how to read properly, He made plenty of comrades, and enemies in the beer hall. A drunken night lead to something special, and he emerged from that night significantly more confident, for what reason is yet to be seen.
A fateful night also came when he got a stipend from his scholarship. A vast amount of money for a commoner of his station, meant to be spent on living expenses. What the school didn’t account for is the impulsive brain of Tommy. He took that paycheck and spent it at the Vermillion Swirl, on a rather pretty Eeiako. A night of fun, japes and joking, and once again, he emerged more confident and enriched from the experience. A friendship made over pleasures of the flesh.
Now, he awaits the next year. A chance to show off in the trials.
M O T I V A T I O N
Tommy is here because he's a lucky bastard. When Mudville was wrecked, he was given this chance as one of the only kids with RAS to stay hush about the whole event, and he intends to make good on this scholarship. Before school, he was a traveling carnie, thief, bruiser, whatever people would pay him to be. Here? He gets to mix with the upper crust, romance some pretty noble ladies, beat up some highborn lads with little consequences and enjoy life to its fullest, all the while gaining strength and experience. What better reason could someone have?
I N V E N T O R Y
❖Brass Knuckles ❖A butterfly knife ❖A hand crossbow ❖A pistol ❖Tripwire ❖One decent suit ❖Bottle of too strong cologne ❖Some firecrackers and smoke bombs. ❖A comb
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S
❖Peak physicality - Even though he’s got a good muscle mass and a rather aesthetic body, he’s strong. Immensely strong. Beyond human strength, reaching into the realm of monsters like sanguinaires and wildbloods. Not that he even knows what those are, or why he has such immense strength. His speed and senses also add onto this in combination, making him an exceptional physical threat.
❖Seasoned Criminal - Growing up in a place as impoverished as Barrowton leaves a man with scars, but also with a lot of skills. Tommy is stealthy and savvy as a result of his upbringing, and is no stranger to criminal activity. He can pick locks, break into houses, sneak around damn near silently and possesses the willpower to do things that people wouldn't ordinarily do for the right price.
❖Seasoned brawler - Tommy is a fighter. He’s fought in more than a fare share of drunken bar brawls, street fights, pits, boxing matches, the works. He has a good instinct for battle, and definitely knows how to throw a punch
❖Confident - Belief in oneself is paramount to success. For if you do not believe in your own abilities, you’ll never take risks or try. Tommy’s always willing to take those risks. He’s always willing to talk to a girl that’s way out of his league. And simply because of that, those many swings will eventually lead to a hit. That’s how he’s got by in life, and that’s how he intends to keep living. His mindset doesn’t allow the possibility of defeat, and even if it occurs, it was simply unlucky, or out of his control.
❖Sturdy - Not only is he immensely strong and fast, he’s got a ridiculous constitution. Being brought up on the filthy streets of Barrowton, he’s had his run ins with disease, and sickness, and not once has he succumbed in a significant way. He has a strong tolerance for alcohol, pretty much never gets sick and can function on very little sleep.
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S
❖ Arrogant - Facts are, the guy believes in himself. A bit too much. At the end of the day, he’s a low ras commoner flaunting around power and one day, he’s going to get squished like a bug because he’s not careful in who he picks a fight with.
❖Crass - The guy is not a eloquent speaker. He tries to be, if there’s incentive, but he doesn’t understand court etiquette, nor does he really show people the respect they probably deserve.
❖Uneducated - He’s not had a formal education. He’s worldly wise to an extent, but as far as actual knowledge goes? He’s got almost nothing there. Sciences, languages, etc are foreign to him.
❖Impulsive - Tommy doesn’t ask, he acts. He’s rash and headstrong, and doesn’t understand danger because he doesn’t believe that he could lose. He’ll happily drag people down with him due to his bad decisions.
❖Overclocked - The downside to being an unleashed is he is prone to mental instability. An overworked mind leads to him seeking pleasures to soothe it, whether that be of the flesh, drugs, gambling, or whatever else. He’s prone to addiction by virtue of his being, as well as being somewhat unstable.
M I S C E L L A N E O U S
Guy has a massive fucking family. Like 30+ members. All here, in Mudville. Nearly all his siblings are half-breeds of some kind. Half yasoi, half-eeiako, the works. Color Code = Gray
Yuliya was not wrong about the fighting continuing. She had little time to waste as they begun their search for the boxes and the marbles. They bounded through the city, Penny being left behind as they made their way to the center with Volti in hot pursuit. It was a Magusjaeger that had earned her ire though, one that had continuously stumped her. She'd been on a breakthrough of using her temporal magic, getting those boxes back to the only place she could trust, her concentration was shattered by a bullet that did not wish to stop. She was forced to leap aside, letting her teleportation spell split. The first of many frustrations as the group began their counter offensive against this marauding group of terrorists.
They fought well. The Volti were absolutely no chumps, and even the weakest of them were putting dents and cracks in their armor and plans. The weakest among them had been reduced to deaths door, as had Yuli by the continued assault by Soldato, a man she'd swore vengeance upon. Time and time again he had laid eyes on her with the rifle, the grenade, etc. and he had almost always found his mark. She was bleeding, rather profusely through the armour, until Khaliun had time to spare her binding wisdom upon her, which rejuvenated what was left. Then came Sven's berserker rampage, as he tore through ranks of Volti until reaching the Magusjaeger. A beatdown ensued, but he collapsed to the strength of the wildblood before he could finish the job. There he stood, lifeless as the body of Soldato snuck away, the group seldom making a gain as she attempted to cast the same spell that Penny had in vain. It was then she begun to realize her own mortality. That death was in reach of her. That was when she resolved to use it, the ultimate weapon.
And so, she pressed Khaliun for hers first, but her hand was forced to use her own as another bullet came her way. She plucked it from the doll and looked at that Magusjaeger as time slowed, aiming carefully as she flung the bead of pure destruction his way. Collateral damage was not in her mind. It had never been in her mind. That was why such trouble had occurred during the fight with Brother Ash. The marble found its way past the oncoming bullet. The Magusjaeger lept into it, hoping to block the damage. And then, time stopped. Even she was caught unawares.
And when it came to once more, she saw her ancestor. Radomir, the legendary protector of Vossoriya, standing before the remaining volti, telling them to leave as the body of the magusjaeger made its way into the ocean. Were she not so deep into a survival focused mindset, she would have laughed. They'd won! But, had they? His appearance could only mean one thing. That there was a genuine threat, one more insidious than a bunch of Volti that they had managed to stand on somewhat even footing with. Where was the rest of the council, or the progenitor? A shiver ran up her spine as she looked up at him, pleading for confidentiality and answers, only softly speaking in her native tongue.
"Почему ты здесь, сэр??"(Why are you here, sir?) she kneeled as she spoke. To any who knew her true identity, such a gesture would seem proposterous, but this man held great reverence in her heart. And of any Vossoriyan who would recognize his face. A man who had saved this country from destruction more than once, earning the worthy epithet "The Legendary Protector."
Tommy is someone who fears nothing. Not because he is brave, but because he does not understand the consequences to his actions. He lives as he wishes, and relishes in the joys that the world has to offer. Gambling? What a thrill. Fighting? Exhilarating. Debauchery? He's all for it. What defines him is a continuous search for excitement, pleasure and joy in the world he's been so lucky to survive in as a commoner, all the while he continues to expand power and accumulate such wondrous experiences. A dilemma rests within his crass, confident personality though. Is he slowly becoming a member of the ruling class that he once so despised? Should he seek its downfall, when he lies so close to truly joining that circle that's so far away?
Tommy is an unshakeable confident guy, yet he does not mind being the underdog. He lets people underestimate him, jeer, jape, laugh behind his back. He lets them think he's a dumb commoner scumbag that was stealing rings and horses before getting a lucky scholarship here because he takes pride in who he is, and makes no attempt to deny it. And it makes him look all the more better when he knocks them flat on their ass. Tommy loves who he is, he loves his family and he loves the way of life he follows.
C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E
Tommy isn't the picture of beauty, but it's not like he's ugly either. Messy brown hair, grey eyes and sharp cheekbones carry a decent chunk of the load, and to be quite honest, he's probably one of the better looking people in his family. He stands on the shorter side(around 5'7), but doesn't display the typical insecurity by a shorter man, but revels in it. Besides that, the man has an exceptional physique, one that both holds an extraordinary amount of musculature and yet looks very aesthetically pleasing. What is even more odd is that he is not the type to train in that regard. Do drunken bar brawls really give you that kind of build?
His dress differs greatly depending on what he's aiming to accomplish. Strutting through lessons, or going about his business? Loose, casual attire. Trying to impress a highborn lady? The only suit he owns, perfume, the works. The man knows little about fashion sense, and usually looks for advice on the matter, but does have a love for jewellery when he's not on the job. Rings, chains, necklaces, the works.
Tommy was born to a mother on the streets of Barrowton, a middling city in the state of Enth, in a rather large family of travelers. He grew up in a massive household, with over 7 siblings, typical of a peasant. But he was somewhat special, in that he had a latent magical ability. Only a couple of his siblings could say the same, and he was the youngest. Surprisingly enough, also the only trueborn human of the group. For among his siblings counted a menagerie of halfbreeds, and nary a father that stayed among them. Perhaps it was because such a large family kept on expanding, growing bigger and bigger. For the Kavanagh's did not move alone, but as a unit. Uncles, aunts, grandparents, the troupe stayed together whenever and wherever they went.
Even though Tommy knew he was special among his family for possessing the rare gift of magic, he believed he was special for another reason. His mother told him that she had only bore children of important and special men, and that he was one such child. A bastard son of Prince John of Enth, who had visited her bed. Whether this is true is something that is highly questionable, even given the Prince's demeanor and antics, but there is something of a resemblance in the two. Besides, he had a bloodtype! Isn't that something only those fancy noble folks get?
And growing up around his vast family in the rougher parts of Enth, Tommy quickly learned what it was like to go to bed with an empty stomach. The thrill of stealing a horse from some middling merchant, and eating securely for a week. He became something of a myth in Barrowton, or so he says. The truth of the matter remains, he learned a lot of the tricks of the trade in that not so lovely part of the world. Thievery, gambling, drinking, spending every spare coin he got on a sneaky trip to a brothel, it was more than enough for him to live happily.
One day, the Kavanagh's packed their bags and set off on a boat to the city of Ersand'Enise. He was upset to leave his hometown behind, but the way of their people dictated that they travel, and so they did. This city was nicer, richer, but they never saw much of inside the walls. Instead, they worked in Moli's emporium in Mudville. A pleasant enough place, not too dissimilar to his homeland despite better weather. Surprisingly, he adapted far better to this climate than to his former homes.
Job security was snatched away from him when Moli's was destroyed by a band of rampaging noble kids. He saw a lot of it. As did his family. Thankfully, they never lost anyone, but a lot of people he cared about perished in the fires and collapses that occurred. It was not something the school could so easily sweep under the rug. And having lost their jobs, his parents were given a boon to stay silent. A free ride for one of your kids to attend the prodigious academy, if they had the manas. His sister would have been a prime candidate, a half-yasoi, but she sadly was a couple years too old. He, however, was in the prime age range. 17 years old and just enough manas to pass the test, he was admitted in.
The next year of school was a grand old time. He learned a lot of magic, and his innate ability helped with that learning, but the books were still an issue. It took him a while to learn how to read properly, He made plenty of comrades, and enemies in the beer hall. A drunken night lead to something special, and he emerged from that night significantly more confident, for what reason is yet to be seen.
A fateful night also came when he got a stipend from his scholarship. A vast amount of money for a commoner of his station, meant to be spent on living expenses. What the school didn’t account for is the impulsive brain of Tommy. He took that paycheck and spent it at the Vermillion Swirl, on a rather pretty Eeiako. A night of fun, japes and joking, and once again, he emerged more confident and enriched from the experience. A friendship made over pleasures of the flesh.
Now, he awaits the next year. A chance to show off in the trials.
M O T I V A T I O N
Tommy is here because he's a lucky bastard. When Mudville was wrecked, he was given this chance as one of the only kids with RAS to stay hush about the whole event, and he intends to make good on this scholarship. Before school, he was a traveling carnie, thief, bruiser, whatever people would pay him to be. Here? He gets to mix with the upper crust, romance some pretty noble ladies, beat up some highborn lads with little consequences and enjoy life to its fullest, all the while gaining strength and experience. What better reason could someone have?
I N V E N T O R Y
❖Brass Knuckles ❖A butterfly knife ❖A hand crossbow ❖A pistol ❖Tripwire ❖One decent suit ❖Bottle of too strong cologne ❖Some firecrackers and smoke bombs. ❖A comb
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S
❖Peak physicality - Even though he’s got a good muscle mass and a rather aesthetic body, he’s strong. Immensely strong. Beyond human strength, reaching into the realm of monsters like sanguinaires and wildbloods. Not that he even knows what those are, or why he has such immense strength.
❖Incredible instincts - As a result of being an unleashed, Tommy has beyond human reflexes, instincts and overall awareness. What some describe as a ‘sixth sense’ or ‘the zone’ is in constant application in the man’s life.
❖Seasoned brawler - Tommy is a fighter. He’s fought in more than a fare share of drunken bar brawls, street fights, pits, boxing matches, the works. He has a good instinct for battle, and definitely knows how to throw a punch
❖Confident - Belief in oneself is paramount to success. For if you do not believe in your own abilities, you’ll never take risks or try. Tommy’s always willing to take those risks. He’s always willing to talk to a girl that’s way out of his league. And simply because of that, those many swings will eventually lead to a hit. That’s how he’s got by in life, and that’s how he intends to keep living. His mindset doesn’t allow the possibility of defeat, and even if it occurs, it was simply unlucky, or out of his control.
❖Sturdy - Not only is he immensely strong and fast, he’s got a ridiculous constitution. Being brought up on the filthy streets of Barrowton, he’s had his run ins with disease, and sickness, and not once has he succumbed in a significant way. He has a strong tolerance for alcohol, pretty much never gets sick and can function on very little sleep.
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S
❖ Arrogant - Facts are, the guy believes in himself. A bit too much. At the end of the day, he’s a low ras commoner flaunting around power and one day, he’s going to get squished like a bug because he’s not careful in who he picks a fight with.
❖Crass - The guy is not a eloquent speaker. He tries to be, if there’s incentive, but he doesn’t understand court etiquette, nor does he really show people the respect they probably deserve.
❖Uneducated - He’s not had a formal education. He’s worldly wise to an extent, but as far as actual knowledge goes? He’s got almost nothing there. Sciences, languages, etc are foreign to him.
❖Impulsive - Tommy doesn’t ask, he acts. He’s rash and headstrong, and doesn’t understand danger because he doesn’t believe that he could lose. He’ll happily drag people down with him due to his bad decisions.
❖Overclocked - The downside to being an unleashed is he is prone to mental instability. An overworked mind leads to him seeking pleasures to soothe it, whether that be of the flesh, drugs, gambling, or whatever else. He’s prone to addiction by virtue of his being, as well as being somewhat unstable.
M I S C E L L A N E O U S
Guy has a massive fucking family. Like 30+ members. All here, in Mudville. Nearly all his siblings are half-breeds of some kind. Half yasoi, half-eeiako, the works. Color Code = Gray
When Yuli had gone to this monastery, she had expected good, godly men to face her and provide answers and explanations. What she found instead, was a disgusting farce. Pretenders, hiding answers, keeping a friend under lock and key. She was ready for the fight, the manas returning her sense of clarity, her body no longer fighting against itself but working in unison, as it should. A mana brew aided her vessel greatly, and she felt strong once more. In fact, feeling was not necessary. She WAS strong. As was Penny. The battle had begun in earnest now, as the monk attempted to eliminate her friend.
A fierce fight ensued. There was an even number of combatants, but the difference in strength between them was palpable. The hegumen and black cap were by far the biggest threats, but even they struggled to defend themselves against the fierce blows of Yuliya, Khaliun, Penny and Yvain. The other, less strong members of the group had held out well as well, covering for each others weaknesses and preventing significant injury. However, a most interesting phenomenon occurred. Penny had made use of the gift from the gods they had been bestowed, and a monk fell to injury. She seemed horrified, but Yuli was proud. A baptism in blood, there was no more fitting use of this gift than to remove the false.
More monks fell in what was quickly becoming a slaughter, and most of her comrades were horrified, but Yuliya was not. Many years had passed since her first kill, and her stomach had long since settled at such a gory display. Her eyes met a familiar pair when Yvain 'poached' her kill, but she recognized in him a similar expression. One that had no qualm with the death of others. She nodded at the boy, but she had no time for words or trouble with the theft, as a runaway explosion had quickly begun. And their magic had disappeared. Fear set into her heart for the first time in this battle, but just as quickly as it was gone, it was back. And boy was she glad that she had taken such a notice in this school, else she may not have survived the ensuing carnage. And when it was over, she looked not to her friends first to check for their safety, but for the body of that Abbott, to make sure he was dead for good. She would ensure he would be remembered in infamy. And when she did not find him, she turned her gaze to Marz, as hegelans emerged from the salt and smoke of the collapse, wielding a great glowing warhammer that seemed to shift and warp reality. Thank Oraff she thought, as the tension left her body and she sat down in the rubble, the tension finally leaving her. She was sure that this would not be the last of it, however.
Seki dresses in a way befitting a man of the faith, who has not forgotten his homeland. Whilst many in his profession opt for armor and the like, Seki feels as if it blinds his body from seeing. Quite often, he is in a loose fitting Samue, which he can easily disrobe on the top half to better enable his ‘sight’. He is also usually barefoot, though in places that require decorum, he will opt for geta(sandals).
He is not an overwhelmingly tall man, though larger in stature than most peers of his heritage. Broad shoulders and a muscular frame show years of dedication and training to his craft. He bears long hair that is usually tied into a ponytail, maintains some facial hair and usually wears a wide brimmed straw hat, most of the time to cover his eyes. On occasion, he will cover his eyes with a black band of silk, but usually, they remain closed. What remains underneath is a mystery to almost all.
L A N G U A G E S
Nikanese - Native Avincean - Fluent spoken and written Retanese - Fluent spoken, no writing skill. Perrench - Advanced spoken, no writing skill.
T H E G I F T
Seki is a rare case in regards to the gift. Being born with a single mana type is rare, but two is an anomaly. Especially when the two synergize as well as his. Skinspeaker has been his saving grace, ever since he has lost his sight, being as it allows him to 'see' through a complex system of echolocation that he has developed via the use of sonic magic. Brutalist would normally be a downside in this regard, but he has managed to extend his effective casting range outside of touch to the range of his sword, making his effective range far less than a great many other mages, but providing himself enough space to react to oncoming threats.
❖ [Arcane: 5 - Luminescent] - Seki cannot see. He cannot be blinded by light, nor threatened by darkness, so manipulation of these facets of the school work greatly to his favor. ❖ [Binding: 0] ❖ [Chemical: 0] ❖ [Kinetic: 6 - Enhancement] - Most of Seki's training with Kinetic was to make him a stronger swordsman, but as of recent time, he has trained in echolocation, combining it with his skinspeaker manas to gauge distance. A year studying bats in the coastal cave systems of a cave in Retan gave him the idea to hone this technique. ❖ [Magnetic: 6 - Internal] - While a focused mind is enough to keep rudimentary illusions and threats at bay, Seki utilizes this school as a defensive counter to illusory based magics affecting his senses. Due to the limitations of a brutalist's range, he will never be capable of launching bolts of arc lightning, but he is capable of localized disintegration should his blade miss its mark. ❖ [Atomic: 5 - Radiative] - Another school that Seki primarily uses as a defensive one. It would be utter foolishness to expose himself to the effects of a large scale explosion, but he can localize tiny explosions, splitting the atoms to create distortions and defensive shockwaves to fend off attackers. Reapers Aura is something he is fond of for maintaining his defenses. ❖ [Blood: 0] ❖ [Temporal: ?] ❖ [Dark: ?] ❖ [Command: ?] ❖ [Primordial: ?]
B A C K G R O U N D
Seki had long served his daimyo faithfully. A naturally gifted Samurai, one with particular talent in the gift made him a standout amongst his peers. He served, protecting his lords port city of Kosaten ever since he became a man. A faith unshaken until a ship from the twin continents arrived. A missionary ship, headed to Retan, had been found at port. The decree forbade foreigners, especially those with religious aims from entering the island after the scare from the Darhannics 80 years ago. An order from his Daimyo was decreed, and he set out to deal with the interlopers.
A samurai boarded that ship, ready to make good on his promise to his liege lord, but quickly found his mind changed. These were not warriors or invaders, but honorable men and women with conviction behind their words. Even as he drew his blade, they would not fight or resist him, believing that to do so was to sully their very mission. It was then he made a very difficult choice. Disobey his lord, or disregard his principles in absolute loyalty. He chose the former. He returned, and delivered the news, that he would not slaughter these Quentics, for they did not mean to convert the people of their nation, but of their neighbor, and so, did not have good reason to mete out justice. Alas, his lord was furious. Not at the fact that these Quentics were still alive, but that his order was questioned and refused. He was given a second chance to atone, and set out with a heavy heart, knowing that refusal this time would mean his death. By the time he returned, the ship was there, but the people were not. Wherever they had gone, he would find them.
Eventually, he caught up to them. His hands were not steady once again, and he found himself once again unwilling. He’d already compromised his loyalty, and the only thing that followed would be death. Perhaps he’d be asked to commit Seppuku for this treason, but he was unwilling to kill them. So he crossed the rubicon. He would see these people finish their mission, and he would finish his, even at the cost of his own life. And as they walked, talked and travelled, he found more meaning to their words, books and symbols. A great, unshakeable belief, dissimilar to his own, regardless of what he thought prior.
They were caught, attempting to seize a vessel to escape, and taken before his Daimyo once again. They had no leg to stand on, no lies to hide behind, nor would he. He was a proud samurai, not a sneakthief. It was then that a punishment was meted out. A chance for these men and women to save themselves, but a humiliation. Images of the pentad were placed upon the ground, their holy symbols, scriptures, relics and the Menanne. The first refused, and was executed on the spot. One by one, brothers and sisters in faith fell before Seki, as he watched them, scared as they were, refuse to compromise on their belief even for the potential of survival. It was then and there he knew - that to believe in something so unshakably - it must be true. That was the moment of his conversion - as the last martyr fell, and he was called up to do the same, to prove that he had not been turned by enemies of the God Emperor. And he refused. But his Daimyo, in his wrath, refused him the honorable death of Seppuku, or execution. Nay, he had a fate much worse in mind. In a swift motion, he was blinded with the swing of a sword, and exiled from the nation in the same vessel he had attempted to take, doomed forever to be a wanderer.
Years of training followed, hardening his resolve and faith. Demons and enemies of the Pentad fell to his blade in the corrupted nation of Retan, yet one chance encounter, a fierce duel had led him to follow a saint down the path of righteousness.
M O T I V A T I O N
Seki is a fierce believer in the Quentic faith. Ever since his exile, it has shaped his philosophy and reason for being. To spread this faith, to complete the mission of the martyrs and to eliminate the fiends that stalk in the shadow of the world and feed on the weak.
I N V E N T O R Y
- #10th Masterwork of Kagemitsu Kenshin: Shiroi Hamon (White Ripple) - 32 manas - Gourd filled with Hegelan prime shots. - His humble clothes - A copy of a Menanna - A symbol of the Pentad.
Silas was gone. Nazih was gone. Marz was gone. She knew of two of their fates, but only truly cared for one. Marz was someone she valued and cared about. He'd crafted her first real weapon, a thing of beauty that had been lost to that wretched creature she'd fought at the proving grounds. Now, it was time to get her back, and they had to stock up for the mission ahead. Kirimansk had many stalls, it was a trading port, and one of the most important in her country. They couldn't rely on their magics any longer, they needed steel, bullets and black powder to fall back on. So she went with the others to gear herself up for the coming trial, only to find that Yvain and her were not welcome for her hijinks the other days. So, she disguised herself. A quick trick of Khaliun's altered her eye colour, and she dressed herself down, hiding her hair in a shawl. She'd played plenty at being a merchant in Ersand'Enise, it would not be hard to hide her air of importance.
And so, she shopped. Both to hide from the security of the venue, and to obtain information, power and equipment. As did her crew, though they did not need to dance around the shadows of stalls and remain occupied as she did. She was beginning to hate it. Hiding from the others, hiding her status, true nature, thoughts, skulking around the shadows like a common cutpurse. Yet it was a necessary evil. Not all would be so kind as Zarina and Penny. Not all would understand the burdens she bore, the price of such a power. Alas, in certain places within this complex, she did not have to hide. She found kinship with a few of the merchants, namely Fat Yuri. A portly man, and a great salesman. She enjoyed the bartering, the conversation and he was even so kind to put a good word for her at another store she intended to visit. A prime example of an ideal subject, one that it was her job to protect.
Her motley crew danced around the place and spent vast amounts of coin. Khaliun had managed to win the lottery with some shenanigans, and that other native girl, Oksana, had also enjoyed some luck in that regard. They proved the most prolific spenders, but Yuli did not find herself needing their coin, for she had plenty of her own. So, she went and bought most of what she needed. That was until she'd noticed an unusual book, marked with the seal of Verrano. Her and Penny both proved interested in the item, and so did Yvain, but the royals curiosity proved too much in this regard, and they went ahead and bought it, preparing to delve into the contents together.
Penny arrives at The Annex. She's nibbling on some mouillettes, dunking her toast in it, covered in Yuri's Special Sauce. She offers some to Yuliya and the two of them eat and talk. "That book is something special, I'm telling you," she was saying, as they loitered outside the Annex. "That's the seal of the Holy See of Verrano." She cast about for Yvain, but he wasn't there yet. She sighed and finished off the last of her food. They could always just share it with him later, she supposed. "Ya ready, bloodsucker?" she whispered mischievously, leaning in. She licked her fingers and dusted the crumbs off of her chest.
Yuli smiled as she finished her last bite of egg and bread, as she too was intrigued in this little book. "I thought so. I wanted because it seemed holy, but if is holy seal, then is special, no? Is that your city, or Revidian? I get confused."
[color-pink]"Ready as you, peggy. Let go!"[/color] she spoke excitedly. She simply wanted to preserve what seemed to be the word of the gods, but if this truly was special, then she wondered. Just what could be inside?
Penny mock glared. "It's the worse one," she replied. Then Yuliya had a new nickname for her. "Fair play," she grumbled, walking up to the counter, where the book in question was one of the few behind it in a glass case. "Hello, good sir, we'd like to take a look at that one." She pointed, speaking slowly and simply.
She grinned all the while, heading to the Annex where she happened upon the book alongside Penny. "That one might be too much for her, I don't suppose you have a copy with colourful drawings and a nice water resistant cover to drool on?" she teased, as she pinched Penny's cheek and too gestured to the book they were after.
"I don't know the words, conasse, but I know the tone." She stuck her tongue out. She looked at the merchant, who looked back, unamused. She smiled sweetly. "We'll take it!" With a disapproving look, he turned, took out a keyring, and unlocked it, carefully extracting the tome within. He held it out with both hands to the two young women before him, eyes momentarily flicking downwards. "The price is two-hundred oubles." he said simply, hands clasped reverently around it. Penny leaned in as they tried to negotiate, low-cut dress sliding partway off of one of her shoulders with a sneaky bit of coaxing. They got it for 40% off of what he'd been asking. Each paid ₽60 and they made their way over to a small sofa, Yuliya holding the book."We should do it at the same time," Penny advised. "Better chance that way, I think." Yuli nodded and anxiously placed her hand alongside Penny's. Her hands were trembling slightly with excitement. Would this be another encounter like the tower?
The cover seemed to resist them at first, but not as if it were glued shut or bound shut or even sealed with some sort of traditional magic. Then, both got their fingers under it and... it opened. Then, Penelope Pellegrin and Yuliya Ilyanovna Vassilieva were in a garden. The hedges were high and there was a man there in priestly robes, bending over some roses. He was unusually tall or... they were unusually small? Penny looked over at Yuliya and, in her place was a little blonde girl. She looked down at herself. None of the bosom she had leaned in with a minute earlier was present. She was... a child as well. The man snipped at the bush with some shears.
"Penny? Yuli exclaimed in shock. She was.. a kid? What was this? Illusions? But they were in a no magic zone. And the man was so tall, no, she was shorter. This was different. She'd know if it was a trick. "Yuli," Penny confirmed. She twisted to face the man, leaning on... it was her old crutch: the wooden one she'd had as a kid. This was no illusion. "Père, excusé moi..." she began, and he turned suddenly, as if startled. The priest blinked and they could see that he was no ordinary priest. He was, in fact, an archbishop. "Young ladies?" He held the shears in one hand and a rose the colour of his robes in the other. "When did you get here? I must've missed you." Penny managed her best curtsy. It was less than perfect. In the same breath, Yuli realized the truth as well. She too saw the priest, tending to the garden. It did not feel familiar, yet she did not feel unwanted in this place, however foreign it might have been. She bowed in respect.
"Where are we, Patri?" she spoke, not knowing how to address the foreign yet familiar garb of the man "l'Archevêque," Penny whispered, voice ripe with reverence. The man smiled at both of the children. "You are in a very special place: one that is very real, or perhaps was. You are children, by the way, because you are learners here, just setting out on a journey." He nodded, bringing the rose to his face and sniffing momentarily. "It seems that my warding spell has somehow found two of you worthy. That," he mused aloud, "or you are particularly clever, and that is a worthiness in its own right, I suppose."
Yuli gasped. She knew of two instances that held magic of this scope, the aberration and the forked tower. Both of which involved the divine. It was true. She was chosen. It had been proven time and time again, perhaps they had more for her to carry out their will, as their vessel on earth. She immediately went onto her knees in reverance, even moreso than before. She had plenty of respect for priests and their ilk, but this was beyond that. She wanted to ask, but she could not find the words, so the only sound that left her lips was a simple gesture, one that she had not spoken much in her life.
"Thank you."
Small-Penny's eyes flashed towards small-Yuliya's and she, too, sunk to her single knee. This was magic well beyond their scope, like that of the Pulsating aberration or even beyond. "Holy Father," she asked tentatively, "If I may be so bold as to ask, who are you and what are we learning?" "Oh, do stand up, girls, please," he repied, making his way over to a small table. There was the book upon it. He placed the shears to one side and the rose to the other. "and come sit with me." There were two chairs. Penny could've sworn there had been one before.
Yuli got to her feet, noticing the table there. She wiped the grass off her dress, and took Penny by the hand, leading her to the seat first, before taking one herself. He waited until both were seated, and then clasped his hands over the open book and began. They may have noticed that it appeared substantially newer than it had when they'd first gotten it. "My name is Remi Alonsius Picard, though you may know me as St. Remi," the archbishop began. "We are in my garden and this book here is my word. It teaches one of a study I delved into in my youth: it involves manas themselves and how the Gods allow us to commune with and exert control over them." Penny's eyes widened. They flashed Yuliya's way. Yuli's eyes followed suit as she listened to the Saint's words. He couldn't mean... surely not. She'd seen it in action, both when she uncovered Jocasta's secret and at the showdown between Hugo and the Progenitor. That was... magic that made monsters kneel before him, it was inconceivable. She turned back towards Penny, just as shocked, before realizing the immense opportunity that had been afforded to both of them.
"I am ready, Saint Remi. her shock quickly turned to determination and confidence.
Penny bowed her head. "I, too, am ready if you find us worthy." He smiled beatifically and reached out with both hands. "Very well," St. Remi replied. He placed a hand on each of their heads and then there was the perception if not the sight of a flash. The manas swirled inside of their bodies, burning and tingling. Then, they were sitting their on the sofa in The Annex. Following that extraordinary series of events, Yuli felt just as she had prior. This anti-magic zone sucked, and the sooner she could be rid of it, the better she would feel. Her and Penny regrouped with the others, to exchange information and find their comrade. And if she had to use this new power to destroy the enemies of the gods, and reunite with her friends, then she would do so gladly. For her encounters so far had proven her divine right, the judgement of Dami would be exercised through the crowns of men today, tomorrow and forevermore. For they would not fail with the gods on their side.
I'd been here quite a while at this point. Mandelein had gone from a quiet little village in the Kerreman countryside into a living apocalypse, brought about by vile creatures of the night and the movement of the 5 moons, is what we'd discovered. Once again, I'd been cooped up in the church for a final stand, this time at least accompanied by the idiot Jamboi, yet I'd found his prowess in combat useful. He was far more.. primitive than I was, perhaps due to his Constantian heritage and I wondered several times throughout the various encountes with the beasts whether he feared death at all. Or rather, it was as if he knew he wouldn't die in such a place. I did not have the same confidence.
I was not the valiant knight in shining armour that these people needed. And I know this to be true now through the words of my teacher. You can fake confidence, emotion, sincerity. But there is not a man alive who can fake being brave. And I was not brave. I stood behind my comrades, and let them take the blows for me, boosting them up for them to conduct their slaughter. And the killing, was something I did not have the stomach for. I don't think I'll ever have the stomach for it. It raised questions for me - knowing what was to come, would I be ready to stand by my brothers and sisters? Would I ever be useful for the task at hand? Oceans more blood was yet to spill, and I was still unprepared to grasp the reigns as my comrades had.
Leonhardt and the others proved a vicious foe, but through the use of dark magic, demons spilled from the great void beyond came to our aid and met them blow for blow, until our time to escape had come, of course. Ashon once again had dealt a final blow to the beast, and shortly after, an opportunity to leave arose. I could have let my comrades go first. I did not. Away from the prying eyes of that blood-crazed nun, I made my getaway long before the others who needed it more, and I felt no guilt, only fear for my own safety. Fear for retribution if they had learned of my cowardice. And fear of what was to come at our final destination, Castle Mandelein. More than once, I found myself changing the adrenaline surging through my system into relaxants, just to keep my heart from leaping through my chest. What would my great ancestors think of their descendants in this moment? I was so strong, yet so afraid whereas weaker men were willing to leap into danger for the sake of righteousness.
Heya. Getting back into text based RP after a long binge of DND/Pathfinder as it's more schedule friendly and I happened upon this lovely site.
Down for most roleplays as I'm looking to improve my writing ability and connect with other cool people. Only really draw the line at erp as that's just not my cup of tea.
If you wanna chat, shoot me a dm! Would be more than happy to entertain anyone who stumbles upon this.
If you've got any recommendations about the site, that'd also be lovely to know! I'm very new here after all!
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Heya. Getting back into text based RP after a long binge of DND/Pathfinder as it's more schedule friendly and I happened upon this lovely site. <br><br>Down for most roleplays as I'm looking to improve my writing ability and connect with other cool people. Only really draw the line at erp as that's just not my cup of tea.<br><br>If you wanna chat, shoot me a dm! Would be more than happy to entertain anyone who stumbles upon this.<br><br>If you've got any recommendations about the site, that'd also be lovely to know! I'm very new here after all!</div>
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