Hey gang. Going to my local comic con today, but should be making the OOC right after. Probably by 8pm EST unless something goes wrong IRL.
Trinais Member
STATUS: To all my RP buddies, I'm gearing up for Camp Nanowrimo in July! My RPs will be slowing down this month and next. PM me for a quick response to an RP I'm in! 9 yrs ago
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- Trinais 11 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
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To all my RP buddies, I'm gearing up for Camp Nanowrimo in July! My RPs will be slowing down this month and next. PM me for a quick response to an RP I'm in!
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10 yrs ago
Back to the grind! Unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Your Fortune: You will find something lost long ago!
10 yrs ago
Working tonight! Unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Stay classy, Guildies!
10 yrs ago
Work tonight! I'll be unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Will check threads and posts during breaks.
10 yrs ago
Work tonight! I'll be unavailable to post from 3:30 to 11 PM EST!
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Bio
Roleplay addict, I work two jobs which unfortunately cuts back on my roleplay time.
In my limited free time I GM one ONLY WAR tabletop game, play a shopaholic Zeltron in a Star Wars game, and try to resist the urge to write long stories as the aftermath usually plunges me into a dark and unhappy depressed state.
Or maybe that's normal!
In my limited free time I GM one ONLY WAR tabletop game, play a shopaholic Zeltron in a Star Wars game, and try to resist the urge to write long stories as the aftermath usually plunges me into a dark and unhappy depressed state.
Or maybe that's normal!
Most Recent Posts
In
~~~The Harlequin's Shadow ~~~ A Supernatural Circus RP
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Parry gave Rikive a hug back, steadying his breathing as best he could after that burst of memory from Charles Gordon. It was quickly apparent to him that any memories he could hit Charles with, Charles packed an equal punch to throw back with the caveat that the vampiric sociopath didn't give a flying shit about. Parry could show him the extinction of a dozen cities and it would be no skin off that man's nose.
Meanwhile, Parry would have to sit there and take it if Charles decided to send any more delightful memories through the sword.
After Rikive left, Parry took a second to gather up his emotions and thoughts, along with his clothes. The absence of Charles' tainted fingers on his sword didn't change the fact that Parry felt his soul was forever dirtied by it. Sooner or later, Charles or his associate would lay hands on the sword again and the feeling would return. Parry would have to live with it. Just like he would have to live with whatever they did with the weapon.
Like that image he had of the sword- his sword- slicing through Billy Rikker's spine like a knife through water.
When he followed Rikive down the hall of the bunker and into the "interrogation room" where their vampire was being held, Parry had his hair in a ponytail, his skin still scrubbed red and smelling of expensive melon soap, and his jeans and Gucci shirt were horribly damp.
"Shower's free," he said to the vampire. "And news flash to the group. Charles Gordon used my personal sword to kill Billy Rikker. Whoever the fuck Charles Gordon is."
Meanwhile, Parry would have to sit there and take it if Charles decided to send any more delightful memories through the sword.
After Rikive left, Parry took a second to gather up his emotions and thoughts, along with his clothes. The absence of Charles' tainted fingers on his sword didn't change the fact that Parry felt his soul was forever dirtied by it. Sooner or later, Charles or his associate would lay hands on the sword again and the feeling would return. Parry would have to live with it. Just like he would have to live with whatever they did with the weapon.
Like that image he had of the sword- his sword- slicing through Billy Rikker's spine like a knife through water.
When he followed Rikive down the hall of the bunker and into the "interrogation room" where their vampire was being held, Parry had his hair in a ponytail, his skin still scrubbed red and smelling of expensive melon soap, and his jeans and Gucci shirt were horribly damp.
"Shower's free," he said to the vampire. "And news flash to the group. Charles Gordon used my personal sword to kill Billy Rikker. Whoever the fuck Charles Gordon is."
Will adjust momentarily!
Very cool, boss!
I'm heading to work soon. Will be off at 6:30 EST. See ya then!
I'm heading to work soon. Will be off at 6:30 EST. See ya then!
Parry squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing hitching as the memories poured into him. Fire and death. That was what followed the bearer of his sword, everywhere he went. The man (definitely a man, he'd picked up on that much) was an efficient and calculating warrior, not shirking from brutality if it was required. Not ancient like Nemsemet, but definitely old.
As far as Parry could tell, the vision he'd thrown through the connection of the plagued city was either ignored or accepted as fact. One way or another, the bearer of his sword didn't care a whit about that sight. It was an everyday occurrence to him- a drop in the metaphysical bucket. Shit like that happened every day in the real world, so why would he care?
The thought, the memory, came clear as day at the end. Transmitted like a line of text over the internet. And then Parry had a name to put on the dark soul that kept laying hands on him. Charles Gordon.
And just like that, the dark presence in his core retreated and vanished, leaving Parry curled up on the toilet with Rikive's hands on his shoulders, his face wet with his own tears while he couldn't get enough air in his own lungs.
"They're playing with it," Parry said, gritting his teeth as he hugged himself harder. "Studying it. I don't- I don't know what he's going to do with it, but they know what they have. Charles Gordon knows what he has."
As far as Parry could tell, the vision he'd thrown through the connection of the plagued city was either ignored or accepted as fact. One way or another, the bearer of his sword didn't care a whit about that sight. It was an everyday occurrence to him- a drop in the metaphysical bucket. Shit like that happened every day in the real world, so why would he care?
The thought, the memory, came clear as day at the end. Transmitted like a line of text over the internet. And then Parry had a name to put on the dark soul that kept laying hands on him. Charles Gordon.
And just like that, the dark presence in his core retreated and vanished, leaving Parry curled up on the toilet with Rikive's hands on his shoulders, his face wet with his own tears while he couldn't get enough air in his own lungs.
"They're playing with it," Parry said, gritting his teeth as he hugged himself harder. "Studying it. I don't- I don't know what he's going to do with it, but they know what they have. Charles Gordon knows what he has."
GREAT BUDDHA'S BEARD!
Also: 6!66! THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST!
Also: 6!66! THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST!
"I'm sorry," Parry said, finally breaking down when Rikive took his hand. "I keep fucking up. I'm not... I'm impossible. I'm not pulling my weight. Getting in everyone else's way. I'm just-"
'Over a barrel' wasn't the most pleasant phrase, but it was exactly how Parry felt right now. He'd tried some freaky shit in the past 500 years (and an awful lot in the last 500 days) but it was always consensual and fun. Right now he could only wait and hope that whoever had his sword wasn't sure what it could do or how they might use it. Truthfully, the blade was just a blade in any mortal's hands. Dangerous and impossibly sharp for something that looked like it'd been dug up in an archaeological dig. Still deadly.
Any hope of that happening, of someone being completely unaware of what they held ran out the window and into another zip code as he felt that dark touch at his core retract, just like it had when passed between the two dark forces, but quickly exploded outward into his veins, up his muscles, down to the tips of his toes and the length of his hair.
Not an attack spell or a curse.
A probe.
Whoever had his sword was sweeping through him and would know for a fact what he was. Where he was? Probably not. Magic was powerful but it didn't hold a candle to GPS. Still, Parry forced himself to shut his eyes in case whoever was "scanning" him could see through him.
"Riki, I need you to go," he all but yelled. "I need you to leave. I want you to stay- I do- but if you want to be safe, you need to go now!"
Any wards Parry might put on himself were useless so long as Nemsemet had the Dawn Blade. He was over a barrel.
And the enemy had an open door to him.
'Over a barrel' wasn't the most pleasant phrase, but it was exactly how Parry felt right now. He'd tried some freaky shit in the past 500 years (and an awful lot in the last 500 days) but it was always consensual and fun. Right now he could only wait and hope that whoever had his sword wasn't sure what it could do or how they might use it. Truthfully, the blade was just a blade in any mortal's hands. Dangerous and impossibly sharp for something that looked like it'd been dug up in an archaeological dig. Still deadly.
Any hope of that happening, of someone being completely unaware of what they held ran out the window and into another zip code as he felt that dark touch at his core retract, just like it had when passed between the two dark forces, but quickly exploded outward into his veins, up his muscles, down to the tips of his toes and the length of his hair.
Not an attack spell or a curse.
A probe.
Whoever had his sword was sweeping through him and would know for a fact what he was. Where he was? Probably not. Magic was powerful but it didn't hold a candle to GPS. Still, Parry forced himself to shut his eyes in case whoever was "scanning" him could see through him.
"Riki, I need you to go," he all but yelled. "I need you to leave. I want you to stay- I do- but if you want to be safe, you need to go now!"
Any wards Parry might put on himself were useless so long as Nemsemet had the Dawn Blade. He was over a barrel.
And the enemy had an open door to him.
The blade pierced right through the demon's skin, slicing bone and muscle until it struck the heart. The Arachnus didn't stop, but the scream of pain it let loose answered the question of whether Winterthorn could harm a demon. Parry wasn't about to wait and see how long it would take to die though. His own sword swept horizontally over the creature's neck, severing its spine.
The creature collapsed on its remaining legs, oozing a black ichorous blood before its form began to evaporate into a dark smoke, rising skyward. The blue flame it clutched in one hand rose skyward, then sped off east into the heart of the city.
A nest. Fucking hell.
Parry, back to business, slid his sword into his bathing suit at the hip and approached Rikive, eyeing the wound, then her face. Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer to the water park.
"Look at me. Look at me, Riki. Do you feel numb, nauseous or faint? Or just pain?"
The creature collapsed on its remaining legs, oozing a black ichorous blood before its form began to evaporate into a dark smoke, rising skyward. The blue flame it clutched in one hand rose skyward, then sped off east into the heart of the city.
A nest. Fucking hell.
Parry, back to business, slid his sword into his bathing suit at the hip and approached Rikive, eyeing the wound, then her face. Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer to the water park.
"Look at me. Look at me, Riki. Do you feel numb, nauseous or faint? Or just pain?"
In
~~~The Harlequin's Shadow ~~~ A Supernatural Circus RP
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Cool. I'll set up an OOC either today or tomorrow. Will pre-approve CS's here as well.
Parry sat himself down on the toilet, hugging himself, trying to get the feeling out of his stomach. Whoever was toying with his sword was definitely passing it between one person and another. Two sets of memories were flooding through to him- equally brutal, equally depraved. And every time someone touched that sword, it was like they were touching him- grabbing him. Possessing him.
A Celestial's sword was a powerful thing.
When Parry was formed, his sword was formed with him. It was equal parts weapon, conduit and symbol of office.
It didn't grant the power to completely control Parry, mindfucking him into a killing machine that murdered everyone in the bunker or gave away their location. But just touching that sword allowed whoever had it to reach into the core of his being, that font of the Nether he called his soul, the most intimate of places, and he would know they were there.
So when Rikive showed up, waiting for an answer, he was absolutely torn in two about what to say. There were no secrets between them. Rikive had bailed him out more than once in the past few months alone, and Parry had done the same. She alone knew what he was from the beginning. At the same time, he'd already fucked up once. Hard. There was absolutely no way to call it anything else. That the enemy had his sword and potentially had power over him was a sobering thought.
The blade was passed back to the woman. The summoner. That demon-tainted spirit touched him again, brushed at his center, and that forced him to make a decision.
"No, I'm not," Parry said, his voice breaking a little bit as he spoke. One hand reached up to his bare chest, still smelling of melon soap, while his eyes grew red and watery. "I think... I think the Mummy has my sword."
A Celestial's sword was a powerful thing.
When Parry was formed, his sword was formed with him. It was equal parts weapon, conduit and symbol of office.
It didn't grant the power to completely control Parry, mindfucking him into a killing machine that murdered everyone in the bunker or gave away their location. But just touching that sword allowed whoever had it to reach into the core of his being, that font of the Nether he called his soul, the most intimate of places, and he would know they were there.
So when Rikive showed up, waiting for an answer, he was absolutely torn in two about what to say. There were no secrets between them. Rikive had bailed him out more than once in the past few months alone, and Parry had done the same. She alone knew what he was from the beginning. At the same time, he'd already fucked up once. Hard. There was absolutely no way to call it anything else. That the enemy had his sword and potentially had power over him was a sobering thought.
The blade was passed back to the woman. The summoner. That demon-tainted spirit touched him again, brushed at his center, and that forced him to make a decision.
"No, I'm not," Parry said, his voice breaking a little bit as he spoke. One hand reached up to his bare chest, still smelling of melon soap, while his eyes grew red and watery. "I think... I think the Mummy has my sword."
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