Vertigo

POKeMON: A Mystery - Always Open

Edited post formatting a bit to show which of Joshua's Pokémon are out and which are in their pokéballs.

POKeMON: A Mystery - Always Open

__________________________________________________

_{Cabins → Main Stadium
@Thunder999999@Teyao and ig @anothered, but unconscious...}

Joshua made his way abovedeck as fast as his legs would allow, half running, half skating his way across the frozen corridor. Even then, by the time he emerged, Klefki clutched against his chest and Shuppet giggling in his wake, he seemed to be late for— whatever the heck was going on.

He'd expected to find people in safety vests being guided across the stadium by the crew, ready to evacuate onto a waiting Wailord. What he found instead was a trio of weird men in even weirder getup, a glitching Lugia surrounded by fireworks and, before he could take the rest of it all in, the entire world seeming to spin in tune with the stadium's clockwork floor. He could make out the captain's voice through the chaos, but not her words.

Joshua was knocked off balance for the second time that day by the shaking, eyes forced shut by a blinding light. By the time he opened them again, the night sky above was gone, replaced by cloudless skies and a hot summer sun. The world had stopped spinning, but Joshua's head sure hadn't.

"Did-- did you see that?" he blurted out as he stood up, wobbling, and glanced over to Shuppet. She was gone. A few frantic glances later, he found her circling among the confused passengers, drinking in their emotions. Oh no. Hopefully, no one here was afraid of ghosts.

Joshua scrambled after his companion, only to finally spot other members of the crew among the chaos. Sugar, Garscon and Teddy, all from the restaurant. He considered calling out to them, but they'd already gathered a small crowd. No doubt people wanting to know what happened, and going to the crew for answers. He doubted they had any, but whatever was going on before, everything seemed to be fine now. Just some hiccup in the weather and the... time of day. No biggie.

Right! In times like these, as a member of the crew himself, he should be helping people find their bearings and tell them there was no reason to worry.

... Right after he caught his runaway Shuppet, who was currently circling above an unconscious, floating man and two people walking besides him. Oh, um, he should probably figure out what was going on there too.

"Hey! Excuse me, where are you taking that man?"

Through Darkening Skies - original weird fantasy sky pirate adventures

I'd be down, but likely only after the holidays.

Expedition to Isekai

𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭

__________________________________________________

Fist met tree, over and over, harder and faster, each punch taking Duncan further away from the funeral and all that had preceded it. Or that had been the plan, anyhow; by the time his fist punched through to the other side, entire arm sinking into the hole he'd made without a tinge of pain, he realized his usual method of stress relief had been rendered practically useless by his new body. So, shit.

Duncan stepped away from the abused tree, taking a long drag on his cigarette. He knew he was supposed to preserve the last few he had, but if having to bury your dead friend wasn't grounds for a relapse, he didn't know what the hell was. This was his second since the funeral, and at this rate, he'd need a third soon.

He blew out smoke and stared at the tree. Right. So, now what? Was he just going leave it like that? He hadn't exactly set out to make firewood, but since he'd sort of started beating this thing up, he might as well. Somehow. Would he be able to grab the tree by the hole and just... tear it in two? But then it'd be in two pieces instead of one, and that didn't really fucking help with anything. Holy shit, even with all his strength, he really was useless.

... Maybe he'd see if he could find a boulder and make an axe out of it or something. Truth be told, Duncan hadn't really thought about what he set out to do when he'd left camp earlier. The entire point of his violence against the local flora had kind of been to not have to think for a bit. To occupy himself with anything else than the shit that had happened or the shit he should've been doing. Like... thanking Asahi for trying, relentlessly, to save Yuki, despite being... Duncan shuddered, remembering what he'd seen in Asahi's head. He wasn't sure what to make of the guy, but snake or no, at least he'd been useful. Duncan? He couldn't even bring himself to go back and check up on Yukiko and Daisuke.

Or — and that was the one task he dreaded the most — talk with Haruko. He probably had to apologize, which sucked, because she probably wanted to comfort him, and he really didn't want to be comforted right now. But he couldn't exactly keep avoiding her, either. She very rarely asked him for anything, and the few things she'd asked of him yesterday, to talk things through with Shun and to save Sasuke and Yuki, he'd failed. Shun was nowhere to be found and probably wolfbear food at this point, he'd nearly killed Sasuke, and Yuki was like ten feet underground.

"You’re not the sorta guy to just avoid talking about this after, right?"

He was.

... Right. Time to see if he could tear a tree in two. Duncan bit down on the cig, cracked his neck, took a step forward and— was interrupted by a familiar voice, reminding him how useless what he was about to do was.

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped, turning to face Rin, but she was already continuing as if he'd said nothing at all. Apparently, she wanted to build a tower.

"What," the question came out so flat it was more a statement. When he continued, he eyed her almost wearily. "Why? For... scouting purposes, or something? To see what's out there, right? 'Cause we ain't gonna be building a place to stay. We can't stay here."

He doubted that was what she meant, but the thought alone made him nauseous. He refused to live near Yuki's grave. Refused to be reminded of him day in and out. He wanted home. Back to...

Come to think of it, he didn't exactly have a lot to return to, huh.

Another drag, this time longer, contemplative, and then he let his shoulders sag. "... I'll help. Getting bored of doing nothing, anyway."

SPIRITUM

Silje Birgisdóttir

_{W A R D E N}

---

SILJE BIRGISDÓTTIR

22 | 4'10'' | 3RD CLASS

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

---

For better or for worse, Silje doesn't exactly look the part of a super soldier, especially when compared to many of her peers. She's a diminutive girl, easily mistaken for someone a few years younger despite being among the oldest in her friend group. Her hair and skin don't do her any favours either, both so pale they make her look sickly. Needless to say, the sun isn't her friend, and her skin burns easily. Still, her apparent waifishness belies a surprisingly athletic and especially nimble girl, who pulls her weight when needed.

It should also be noted that it's not her paleness or her height — or lack thereof — that people tend to pay attention to the most. Rather, it's her peculiar body language; her gestures and expressions tend to always be a little off, even if you can't pinpoint exactly how or why. Exaggerated, fidgety, too still, using gestures not befitting the situation at all — she's been accused of it all, sometimes even to her face. It doesn't seem to have had much of an impact. At most, it's earned a grin and a thumbs up.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Silje is difficult to pin down, in mind just as much as on the battlefield. She seems to have a near-constant need to preoccupy herself with something, lest her mind wander off somewhere for extended periods of time. She can space out for hours on end at the worst of times, simply watching the Mist and idly painting a scenery only she can see with its hues.

Needless to say, she gets easily bored, and isn't afraid to voice it. In fact, she's rarely afraid to voice anything — not that you'd likely hear her utter a truly bad word about anyone. Extroverted and excitable, Silje very much enjoys the company of others, even of those that do not share the sentiment. Her behaviour alienated many of her fellow WARDENS during training for reasons she doesn't quite fully understand, and so she is particularly glad for those that did stick around. For them, she's willing to do anything.

While not readily apparent at first, Silje seems to have a somewhat limited, surface-level capacity for certain emotions — as well as understanding them, which can lead to her spurting out situation inappropriate things without any ill will. It is speculated this might be due to a Mist-related injury, but considering her body seems otherwise lacking in telltale signs of Mistburn, it is but a theory at this point. Either way, due to this, Silje harbours a deep-rooted desire to feel things, and goes out of her way to put herself in situations that might provide her with strong emotions. Unfortunately, some familiar examples of this are the fear of death and the exhilaration of a life narrowly spared; the very first things she ever remembers feeling, back when she was discovered wandering the fields alone.

When given the chance to follow them, Silje's whims, freedom, excitement and action are what guide her actions, and whatever caution she does practice seems to be more for the benefit of others around her than for her own sake. After all, while she might have been a loose cannon if left to her own devices, she is a WARDEN, a trained soldier, and she knows how to follow directions.

_{B A C K G R O U N D}

---

Silje's life as she remembers it began the way it's also likely to end: with an explosion. One noticed by Inquisitors returning from a holy mission of heretic cleansing. Upon investigation, they found a young girl in tattered clothes, clutching onto what appeared to be the remains of a beast of some sort. She was unable to recall who she was or what'd happened, but it was assumed her remote village had been attacked by monsters. Despite the clear remnants of magic lingering in the air, the girl seemed both unharmed and not suffering from signs of Mistburn. Suspecting her of being able to wield the Mist, she was taken, as many other orphan girls before her, to join the Maidens and learn to harness her powers for the good of the Gods.

It turned out she was anything but a Maiden, in any sense of the word. An unruly, wild child who nevertheless seemed to hold immense capacity for magic, the good sisters of the Order did their best to instill in her holy virtues that she then systematically failed to uphold. The peace she enjoyed, while no doubt soothing to many orphans who'd been through hell in their short lives, was unbearable for her. Her escape attempts were many, but only one of them successful. She was twelve at the time, so when she found herself part of the Government's grand survey, she was already two years older than her peers.

As it turned out, WARDEN training fit her much more than work at the Church ever had. She excelled at combat studies, particularly those relating to the use of Mist, and it was clear she would be classified as a Battlemage early on. However, lessons on strategy and the like never quite seemed to stick. So though her magical aptitude was — is — above that of most of her peers, she's far from a 2nd class classification, and is assumed to require direction on the battlefield to reach optimal results for some time to come.

_{C O M B A T}

---

Combat Class: Battlemage, with some aspects of a Ranger

Combat Style:

In a word, Silje's preferred combat style is destructive. At her truest she is a cannon of magical prowess, primed to be aimed at whatever you no longer want to exist. Of course, wanton destruction is not always the most reasonable of approaches, and so Silje's had to learn to make-do. Her mastery over mist allows her to just as easily take down enemies in more controlled, concentrated bursts of magic from good distance away with whatever elemental flavour she happens to fancy. Sometimes she chooses none, and opts to choke those who get too close with pure, concentrated Mist instead.

Despite being an important target for the enemy, Silje doesn't don very heavy armour, if any at all. Rather, she focuses on being light-weight and nimble, using magic to keep herself from harm's way; be that by propelling herself away from potential attackers, or towards them to deliver an electric shock straight to the heart. Can't kill her if you're dead first! The tricks up her sleeve are aplenty, though despite what the Maidens tried to instill in her, she's never found herself practicing healing or shielding more than necessitated by her studies.

Needless to say, she has a tendency for recklessness that often has her paired with someone more cool-headed and rational in high-stakes combat situations when resources allow for it. She is capable of operating alone however, and has survived many a situation she wasn't expected to.

_{R E L A T I O N S H I P S}

---

Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted.

_{M I S C}

---

- Silje is unable to perceive colour. Whether it's something she was born with or the result of a sustained injury is unknown, but magic seems unable to cure it. As such, some have peculated it to be Mistburn related. Particularly since when it comes to Mist, she does, in fact, perceive it as dim hues in various shades. By harnessing Mist she can then make said colours more vibrant, and upon releasing bursts of it into the monochrome world around her, she can, if for a moment, enjoy an explosion of the most beautiful of colours. And probably intestines, if anyone happened to stand too close.

- While not many of the Order's teachings stuck, Silje does pray from time to time. Whether this is a sincere practice born out of genuine faith or simply a habit that stuck is unknown.

SPIRITUM

Am fine with Discord too, yeah.

Probably easier to figure out relationships there, but I know I'd at least be hoping for someone to be a particularly close friend to Silje. Maybe the first one she made during training? Someone she can fuss over, listen to at the end of the way, bother endlessly, you know, the works.

Maybe someone she'd try to teach a thing or two about Mist, too? Whether because the other party asked her to, or because she dictated they need the help. She might not be entirely helpful.

Will mull over more stuff once we got our crew in.

SPIRITUM

Half asleep but done, edited the full sheet into the previous post!

SPIRITUM

Will have to finish tomorrow, sickness been stealing most of my time oop, but I do gots a wip. If something does seem off so far though, lmk.

Edit: done yooo

Silje

_{W A R D E N}

---

SILJE BIRGISDÓTTIR

22 | 4'10'' | 3RD CLASS

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

---

For better or for worse, Silje doesn't exactly look the part of a super soldier, especially when compared to many of her peers. She's a diminutive girl, easily mistaken for someone a few years younger despite being among the oldest in her friend group. Her hair and skin don't do her any favours either, both so pale they make her look sickly. Needless to say, the sun isn't her friend, and her skin burns easily. Still, her apparent waifishness belies a surprisingly athletic and especially nimble girl, who pulls her weight when needed.

It should also be noted that it's not her paleness or her height — or lack thereof — that people tend to pay attention to the most. Rather, it's her peculiar body language; her gestures and expressions tend to always be a little off, even if you can't pinpoint exactly how or why. Exaggerated, fidgety, too still, using gestures not befitting the situation at all — she's been accused of it all, sometimes even to her face. It doesn't seem to have had much of an impact. At most, it's earned a grin and a thumbs up.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Silje is difficult to pin down, in mind just as much as on the battlefield. She seems to have a near-constant need to preoccupy herself with something, lest her mind wander off somewhere for extended periods of time. She can space out for hours on end at the worst of times, simply watching the Mist and idly painting a scenery only she can see with its hues.

Needless to say, she gets easily bored, and isn't afraid to voice it. In fact, she's rarely afraid to voice anything — not that you'd likely hear her utter a truly bad word about anyone. Extroverted and excitable, Silje very much enjoys the company of others, even of those that do not share the sentiment. Her behaviour alienated many of her fellow WARDENS during training for reasons she doesn't quite fully understand, and so she is particularly glad for those that did stick around. For them, she's willing to do anything.

While not readily apparent at first, Silje seems to have a somewhat limited, surface-level capacity for certain emotions — as well as understanding them, which can lead to her spurting out situation inappropriate things without any ill will. It is speculated this might be due to a Mist-related injury, but considering her body seems otherwise lacking in telltale signs of Mistburn, it is but a theory at this point. Either way, due to this, Silje harbours a deep-rooted desire to feel things, and goes out of her way to put herself in situations that might provide her with strong emotions. Unfortunately, some familiar examples of this are the fear of death and the exhilaration of a life narrowly spared; the very first things she ever remembers feeling, back when she was discovered wandering the fields alone.

When given the chance to follow them, Silje's whims, freedom, excitement and action are what guide her actions, and whatever caution she does practice seems to be more for the benefit of others around her than for her own sake. After all, while she might have been a loose cannon if left to her own devices, she is a WARDEN, a trained soldier, and she knows how to follow directions.

_{B A C K G R O U N D}

---

Silje's life as she remembers it began the way it's also likely to end: with an explosion. One noticed by Inquisitors returning from a holy mission of heretic cleansing. Upon investigation, they found a young girl in tattered clothes, clutching onto what appeared to be the remains of a beast of some sort. She was unable to recall who she was or what'd happened, but it was assumed her remote village had been attacked by monsters. Despite the clear remnants of magic lingering in the air, the girl seemed both unharmed and not suffering from signs of Mistburn. Suspecting her of being able to wield the Mist, she was taken, as many other orphan girls before her, to join the Maidens and learn to harness her powers for the good of the Gods.

It turned out she was anything but a Maiden, in any sense of the word. An unruly, wild child who nevertheless seemed to hold immense capacity for magic, the good sisters of the Order did their best to instill in her holy virtues that she then systematically failed to uphold. The peace she enjoyed, while no doubt soothing to many orphans who'd been through hell in their short lives, was unbearable for her. Her escape attempts were many, but only one of them successful. She was twelve at the time, so when she found herself part of the Government's grand survey, she was already two years older than her peers.

As it turned out, WARDEN training fit her much more than work at the Church ever had. She excelled at combat studies, particularly those relating to the use of Mist, and it was clear she would be classified as a Battlemage early on. However, lessons on strategy and the like never quite seemed to stick. So though her magical aptitude was — is — above that of most of her peers, she's far from a 2nd class classification, and is assumed to require direction on the battlefield to reach optimal results for some time to come.

_{C O M B A T}

---

Combat Class: Battlemage, with some aspects of a Ranger

Combat Style:

In a word, Silje's preferred combat style is destructive. At her truest she is a cannon of magical prowess, primed to be aimed at whatever you no longer want to exist. Of course, wanton destruction is not always the most reasonable of approaches, and so Silje's had to learn to make-do. Her mastery over mist allows her to just as easily take down enemies in more controlled, concentrated bursts of magic from good distance away with whatever elemental flavour she happens to fancy. Sometimes she chooses none, and opts to choke those who get too close with pure, concentrated Mist instead.

Despite being an important target for the enemy, Silje doesn't don very heavy armour, if any at all. Rather, she focuses on being light-weight and nimble, using magic to keep herself from harm's way; be that by propelling herself away from potential attackers, or towards them to deliver an electric shock straight to the heart. Can't kill her if you're dead first! The tricks up her sleeve are aplenty, though despite what the Maidens tried to instill in her, she's never found herself practicing healing or shielding more than necessitated by her studies.

Needless to say, she has a tendency for recklessness that often has her paired with someone more cool-headed and rational in high-stakes combat situations when resources allow for it. She is capable of operating alone however, and has survived many a situation she wasn't expected to.

_{R E L A T I O N S H I P S}

---

Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted.

_{M I S C}

---

- Silje is unable to perceive colour. Whether it's something she was born with or the result of a sustained injury is unknown, but magic seems unable to cure it. As such, some have peculated it to be Mistburn related. Particularly since when it comes to Mist, she does, in fact, perceive it as dim hues in various shades. By harnessing Mist she can then make said colours more vibrant, and upon releasing bursts of it into the monochrome world around her, she can, if for a moment, enjoy an explosion of the most beautiful of colours. And probably intestines, if anyone happened to stand too close.

- While not many of the Order's teachings stuck, Silje does pray from time to time. Whether this is a sincere practice born out of genuine faith or simply a habit that stuck is unknown.

SPIRITUM

Realized I got a few questions re: magic!

So I'm going for a more destructive angle with my Battlemage, in a "point her at a direction and it goes boom" sort of way, but unsure what the powerscale for magic like that would be, or how specialized a typical Battlemage is. Like are they more focused on their own niches, or is it typical for a Battlemage to supplement their main focus with other spells (like, say, a d&d wizard)? And if someone's main focus was to cause destruction, what scale would we be talking?

I'm cool with anything, just don't wanna take her in a completely different direction than intended!

SPIRITUM

Probably gonna go for a Battlemage angle for a change, since I rarely do. Or make something up. Anyway, should be able to work on a sheet this weekend.