Xandrya

The Last Avatar

Note: I will be putting up my CSs today or tomorrow. I have a detective (she's going to come with a lot of surprises) and a young student heiress who can firebend.

The Last Avatar

@Sanity43217

Well, since the existence of benders is slowly coming to an end, one of the ideas I had for the plot is that every now and then, their bending fails. With that, I say it's more fitting to have their bending be similar to that from TLA and not so much Korra's time.

The Last Avatar

The year is 2024 in one of the millions of parallel Earths. Roughly a century and a half prior, the last Avatar was tragically killed. Some say he suffered such a torturous death that the Avatar link was forever severed. Or at least, that’s what people presume must have happened. Generation after generation, no other Avatar has made an appearance since that fateful evening. Some took the news quite well, some didn’t care, and some simply could not accept the fact.

It didn’t take long for the world to go into a state of total disarray. Crime and violence skyrocketed as benders and non-benders clashed, causing the loss of millions of lives. Without any one random government being able to properly practice their authority over the unjustified murder of innocents, something had to be done, and someone had to act fast. They studied some statistics and noted one interesting fact: the number of benders being born everyday was significantly dropping as time went on. A secretive meeting initiated by the United States government and calling on any and all world leaders and their representatives to attend took place in an unknown location in an unknown date and time. It was in that meeting that the Coalition for the Cessation of Bending was created. This multinational effort would be headquartered in London, with offices branching out worldwide. The logistics side of it would require a number of law enforcement agencies to provide support as needed. For example, if an agent of the CCB wasn’t readily available and a bender was identified, a representative of the police department with arresting powers would take the bender into custody and call on for an agent. The bender would then be placed in a special holding unit to await pickup and transport. What happens once a CCB agent has custody of a bender, no one knows...

Currently in this post Avatar era in Chicago, IL, you are going about your business. You may be a bender keeping a low profile, a non-bender, or an agent of the CCB. Every agent and officer on the field tasked with detaining a bender has a device at their disposal which temporarily blocks an individual’s capability to practice their bending. This will in turn give the agent or officer all the power and control of the situation.

Storywise, there will be some events in which we can all simultaneously participate in. For these events, I will send out brief surveys so every RPer has a chance to pick certain outcomes.

The rules to this game are simple:

1. Follow Guild rules
2. Respect myself and one another. Do not argue. Any disagreements can be handled respectfully and in private.
3. Your character is not an overlord; do not abuse their abilities. Interfering with someone else’s character (or an NPC) even if it doesn’t lead to their death WILL get you kicked out of the game if there weren’t any prior agreements.
4. Inactivity is a pet peeve of mine. Just go ahead and let me know in advance whether you plan to be out for a while. That’s fine, you can pick up your character at a later time and adjust accordingly. However, if you simply ghost the RP without a heads up, your character may be used however I deem fit or possibly killed off.
5. You must be 18 yoa or older to join. This game will have adult themes (violence, drugs, etc.). Fade to black will apply accordingly if the scene reaches that point.
6. Use real people for face claims, not anime.

And last but not least, please practice common sense and have fun! If you have any issues, just bring it up to me. This is maybe my second time attempting to be a GM in the many years I’ve been on this site. Also, as a side note, I have a toddler who keeps me on my toes so if I made any mistake (which will more than likely happen quite a bit), just point it out to me.

Sample CS

Name:

Age:

Sex:

Physical Description: (Feel free to use a photo or provide a thorough enough description to get a mental image of what they look like.)

Element: (Only applies to benders.)

Occupation:

Personality:

Background:

Miscellaneous: (You may select a theme song or add any additional info here.)

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Dirty Dishes

The duties that’d been delegated worked quite beautifully in her favor. The captain wouldn’t allow Imani free reigns over her position—understandably a CYA matter—therefore asking Edina for some help to come up with a list would show her willingness to cooperate and work well with others, even though she much preferred otherwise. The crew began to stagger out, and Imani grabbed the chance to rinse out her cup.

“Make that list later, yes?”

Imani walked past Edina with a smile as she was heading in the opposite direction with the rest of the crew. She pulled the faucet open and let the water run over her fingers for a moment.

"Not like that, you’re doing it wrong!” Her caretaker at the time snatched the dish from her hands and hurled it against an adjacent wall, startling a young Imani. “You left a dirty spot!”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and Imani began to retreat back to her room. She didn’t get far though, not with Emmanuel hastily moving to block her path. She didn’t dare look up at him and only focused on his scuffed up work boots. “I apologize, I didn’t mean...” Imani struggled to find the right words, hands nervously tugging at the hem of her white dress. It was then she felt herself getting yanked up by the arm and roughly dragged towards the back patio door, making her desperately plea for him to do otherwise. “No—please please, no!” At only nine years old, there was practically nothing she could do to defend herself from him.

“Shoulda learned better from Lena..." Emmanuel responded matter-of-factly.

Lena was his wife, his partner for supposedly a lifetime. She was nothing like him, and their union oftentimes left Imani to wonder why she would be with someone like him. Lena was loving, patient...all the qualities of a good parent. They never had any children, and that’s why they'd agreed to look after Imani. However, when she wasn’t around, Emmanuel would take out whatever frustrations were troubling him on Imani. Not that she would tell Lena either way as Emmanuel would remind Imani they could just as quickly get rid of her if she were to say something.

“Please, you did this yesterday!” Her trying to break from his grasp was futile. Imani tried to dig her heels into the ground but that only led to scratched knees as she was pulled so hard, her shoulder could have very easily dislocated. With Lena being away for work, Imani started to desperately cry knowing she would not be okay for a few days. That angered Emmanuel even more as he shoved her into the shed. Imani lost her footing and fell, her head hitting the wall. She finally looked up at him as he closed the door on her and locked it shut. She sat in complete darkness, a trembling hand reaching for the achy spot on her head.

Imani already knew the terrain so to speak, being she was locked up plenty of times before. It was a bit of a struggle to get to her feet but she eventually got there, feeling the wall as she pushed forward towards the sink to wash her face.

Her mind then changed, and Imani left the cup on the counter. She no longer had a smile on her face as she made her way to her quarters.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The 411 - Galley Meeting, Part Two

OOC: Part 2 of a JP/Collab from @Xandrya, @Bugman, @Little Bill, @wanderingwolf, and @sail3695

Dear.’ Strike One. Leastways he didn’t call ‘er ‘Sweetie.’ Abby mighta tried tah bust some silver outta Boone’s mouth if he done that.

She’s ‘bout tah call Fèihuà on tha whole ‘somebody-done-died-an-hurt-my-heart’ spiel til he come clean an’ fessed up tah doin’ tha killin’ hisself. Abby had no truck with that. Killin’ was killin’. Ain’t nobody lived in tha black weren’t on reg’lar terms with folk bein’ kilt. Hell, she’s fifteen when she popped a pair ‘o’ Reavers her own self. She din’ know why Boone killed that Dan with them thumbs. Weren’t none ‘o’ her business.

But who’s flyin’ tha boat she’s in? Uh….yeah! That was a matter of some concern…’specially when it sounded like Cap’n signed off real easy like on a man ain’t never actually done tha thing. No need tah come tha acid with Boone. Instead, she fixed ‘er eyes on Cap’n, hopin’ fer all tha world he might conjure a great big WHAT THA SAM HILL YAH THINK YER PLAYIN’ AT? reachin’ his way across tha table.

Straightening up on her chair, Imani took a quick glance around to gauge the reactions of some of her fellow crewmates. “Well, we’re happy you’re with us, Boone,” Imani spoke up, offering as sincere of a smile as she could muster. “As long as you get us to each location in one piece, there won’t be any quarrels ‘tween you and I.” She took another sip of her tea before replacing the cup on the table. Here was to Strand exceeding the expectations of his captainly duties.

Yuri’s eyes were focused on the little screen in his hands. 3 meter aluminum truss, 90 pieces, he scanned the list. 6 way corner blocks, 12 pieces, weldable hinge plates, 26 pieces. He hadn’t been watching the crew, but the overall tone of conversation had remained easy. He’d heard the strike of Elias’ marker to his white board without follow up to Boone’s answer, as well as questions from Lyen and Abby. 6 chain hoist, 2 ton capacity, 32 exploding bolts @ 12.7mm. He followed the quote line for line, nodding contentedly, until a substitution request caught his eye.

Laser weld pkgs are out of stock. I have 4 EB7 kits. Acceptable?

Electron beam welders weren’t quite as friendly or quick as their laser counterparts, but he and Elias would have no trouble handling them. Both Cal and Abby were at least nodding acquaintances with spot welding, so they could be brought up to speed. EB7’s are fine, Yuri’s thumbs tapped out the response. Got an addition, he continued. Do you have any XXL flight chairs?

Cal Strand, still leaning against the galley’s table, watched the eyes of the crew as they took Boone up on his offer for answers. Abigail’s reaction brought a smirk to his face, behind the stoked ember of his cigarette. He read her message loud and clear, but he couldn’t help but feel tickled at the red rising in her eyes.

‘Til this point, the Captain had been listening as a bystander, but he did have a curiosity to voice. Turning in his lean, Strand met eyes with the pilot. “What’s with all the crossin’ and prayin’? You some sort of Shepherd on the side? We already got one ‘holy’ body onboard, and this boat can only take so many morals.” Over his shoulder, Cal shot a wary glance at Sister Lyen who met his gaze with a sincere smile. Strand quickly returned his attention to Boone.

Boone shook his head with a sheepish smile. “No sir, Mr. Cal, I’m no Shepherd.” He shifted in his boots once more, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words, pausing for a few moments before continuing.

“I did a lot of nasty things to people. No two ways about it. Left me with a lot of nasty memories when I went in and not much else. Sittin’ on all that nastiness, with nothing to do but reflect on it, day in and day out…” He shrugged, casually tossing his hefty hands in the air, “The only way I could forgive myself was to find out that I had already been forgiven. A long time ago, on a far-away desert on another planet, by a savior willing to die for what he knew I’d do.” He sighed, looking past the captain at some unseen memory. “That was the only way I could really reflect in the mirror and not smash it, I s’pose.”

Well, that’s that. Abby seen ‘erself on tha losin’ end agin. Capn’s lookin’ at ‘er over his cigarette like she’s tha butt of ‘is joke or sumpin’. Man had a way ‘o’ bein’ one arrogant sumbitch an’ takin’ pleasure seein’ her git tweaked. For sure they’s more tah this lil’ story…jest enough tah please him watchin’ his deckhand all lathered. Yeah, she conjured, he got me agin. Droppin’ her expression from ‘volcano’ tah ‘one eyebrow cocked,’ Abby leaned back in ‘er chair an’ emptied ‘er soda.

She’s ‘bout tah cut loose a powerful belch ‘til Edina give her tha eye. Abby thought tha world of Edina, ‘cept fer times like this when she gits all ‘Big Sister.’ Figgers, she mused all glum like as she swallowed tha burp. Ole Cut Throat there jest sweet talkin’ ever’body an’ I’m tha one’s gotta mind muh manners…

The room had gone quiet. Absorbed as he was in the developing equipment manifest, Yuri had taken no notice, until the nudge of a foot upon his ankle roused him from his study. Edina met his eye with arched brows and a slight incline of her head toward the Captain. Cal’s eyes delivered his order with crystal clarity.

Wrap this up.

“Um,” Yuri’s mouth fell open, “right. You’re all gonna have plenty of time to get to know Mr. Boone, but we’ve got a job to prep. Elias, Abby,” he turned to face the mechanic and deckhand, “after we’re done at the Skyplex, the three of us are gonna spend a lot of time in EV suits. Make sure you’ve got one fitted and QC’d.”

The first mate’s attention fixed upon both China Doll’s new medic and her galley hand. “Imani, Edina,” he continued, “we have to stock heavy. Conjure up your shopping lists to keep us for two months.”

That startled the crew. As he lifted a hand to quiet the galley, Yuri read surprise, alarm, even consternation. More intriguing was the keen excitement projected from two pairs of eyes. “Doc,” the colloquialism nearly tripped his tongue as he tried it out for Imani, “if one of ours gets hurt or sick, we’ll be weeks away from any dirtside med. You’ve got leeway to beef up the medbay to handle more serious stuff. Think on it, and let’s sit down before we make the Skyplex. Edina,” Yuri glanced her way, “You need to load us up on protein paste and foodstuff bars. Captain’s signed off on real coffee, the tea you like, and your favorite sodas, so everyone tell Edina what you want. But here’s the kicker.”

He paused. Once certain of everyone’s attention, Yuri said, “a Skyplex is nothing but eyes and ears. Everything we’re picking up would look normal for anyone provisioning a mining camp. That’s our story, if anyone tries to play twenty questions.” He tucked the little cortex reader into his pocket as he continued. “Most pirates won’t want to mess with all the heavy metal we’re loading. But if they get wind we’re hauling extra food and meds, that makes us a sexy target…which is why we’re gonna buy our provisions in dribs and drabs. Every one of us,” Yuri’s eyes swept the table, “will get a grocery list to take care of…pilot and mechanic included.”

He rose from his chair. “There’s a powerful lot we’re not telling you right now, but we will…once the Skyplex is in our wake. ‘Til then, get your preps and lists started for a long haul. Abby, let the passengers out to play.”

Yuri watched as the crew all stood. Abby was the first to leave, her face a tumble of emotions as she made for the stairs. From the others he read curiosity, reticence, intrigue. The tall mechanic’s eyes broadcast a deepening interest over word of his upcoming EV. “Boone,” he caught the hulking pilot on his way to the cockpit. “You’ve got your course to the Skyplex. We’ve got an extra fifteen percent of fuel beyond reserve for this run. You’re clear to get some maneuvering practice while we’re under way.”

China Doll’s crew dispersed, leaving Yuri to follow the Captain to his quarters, and some serious discussion.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

_{Current mood}

---

She smiled a little too sweetly as she crossed her arms in front of her. “Sure, Grady, let’s have this nice fellow—Katya motioned towards Dorian—join your shenanigans and maybe then I can finally live my life in peace!” There was enough sarcasm in her voice to serve up an entire floor of guests. Her face then dropped. “Get out,” she shook her head, “you’re not welcomed here again ‘til father allows it.” Katya moved with a purpose as she walked to Dorian. “If you ever attempt to recruit one of my customers again, I’ll damn make sure to draw up a no trespass with your name on it.” The threat was followed by her placing a hand on her brother’s back to show him the door.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Katya Voss

Katya placed the empty glass on the counter between them two. She reached for his hand for a friendly shake, noticing the multiple calluses present once contact was made. Years of hard labor, she assumed. "The honor and pleasure's all mine," Katya smiled, "I ain't going to stop singing you praises anytime soon...payback for saving my life-"

A moment later her brother walzted in; Katya's mood instantly dropping. The way he casually complimented her nearly set her off, as if she didn't have a weapon pressed against her head a minute ago. "They won't be back, period. Do what you gotta do and rid them from my life...and this bar too." Katya was only a few years older than her brother, yet he rarely held her in high regard. He never listened, and that put a strain on their relationship.

"If it wasn't for this man right here I could have been good as dead." She turned on her heel, a stern talking to wouldn't stop her from preparing the promised drink. "You wouldn't have raised a finger before that man killed me," she took a jab. Maybe not well-deserved, but she was angry enough. "I want you out for good, or at the least until you handle your business entirely." Katya didn't meet his eyes, focusing instead on pouring measured amounts of alcohol on the glass between her and Dorian.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Katya Voss

“I ain’t wanting her,” both his arms came up in surrender, palm and thumb securing the pistol in a loose grip with no signs of the pointer on that trigger. A sudden, smug expression for show to likely conceal his racing heart as he stepped back and away. “All for ya friend, she’s lookin’ like a fine lay,” he winked, and that’s the last that was heard from him as he concealed the weapon and turned on his heel to leave without causing further mayhem. Katya finally let out a sigh of relief, using the chairback to lean on as she gathered her thoughts. Where would she even begin to thank her customer?

“I apologize about that, he came looking for my brother…clearly not the saint of the family.” She watched him put away his own revolver too, eyeing the weapon until was out of sight. “Don’t know how to thank you enough,” Katya gazed down at her hands, the trembling dwindling down, “but your next drink is on me. Least I can do for you scaring away that ruffian.”

One warm smile later, and she motioned for him to follow her. Katya had led him back to his seat as she walked around behind the counter. “I can make you another one of what you’re having or I can make you a special one strong enough to have you forget a couple of faces by morning time.” She disappeared momentarily as she leaned down to reach for a clean glass. “What will it be?”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Katya Voss

Wiping off the remaining table, Katya had all patrons but that one in the lavatory out of the premises. He’d been kind enough to advise he would be quick with his business. In drunk speak, one could say there was plenty of freedom as to the meaning behind that statement. Katya flipped the rag over her shoulder to start lifting some chairs onto each table. Once more, the glamors of her newly-acquired barkeep gig left her to question why she had agreed to take over for her father. Given his old age, he was soon to be out of the business permanently and enjoy his senior years, but her no-good brother wouldn’t take over the business if he was to receive double the pay. He was too busy running scams and wasting his body away. ”You lost that job, might as well cover mine," her father would say in an attempt to convince her, and he was right. Katya would do anything to keep getting an income. Well, almost anything.

“Is that Grady boy hiding in here?” She heard from behind as something might solid was pressed against the back of her head. Of course. Her brother, Luka “Grady” Voss, had brought his troubles to the family once more. Katya slowly put the chair down with her back to the stranger still.

“He ain’t here tonight, might try him at home.”

“He wasn’t there either.”

Well then your luck’s up. Katya imagined breaking the neck of an empty beer bottle as she spun around and swung it at the man's neck, slicing it open in one clean swipe, blood cascading down to stain his clothing beyond saving. The desperate choking sounds as his knees buckled from his weight proving too heavy were satisfaction enough for Katya to walk off without a second glance.

"I—I don't know his whereabouts. We don't often see each other..."

Katya was terrified. She didn't know what her brother had done to this rival of his, but it mustn't have been good. Suddenly, Katya picked up on faint footsteps approaching, which meant this predicament she was in was about to get a whole lot worse or slightly better.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Toweling up her hair, Imani closed in on her reflection. She tilted her head up just the slightest to stare at the small scar underneath her chin. She'd meant to get that removed, multiple times at that, but some job or 'nother always seemed to come up. And now, well, she was left with the sour thoughts of what had transpired that evening.

It was then the intercom came to life, making Imani glance away to listen to the message. The crew was to meet soon...perfect timing she supposed. At least she was clean now as not even half an hour earlier she was working up a sweat with her stretching and yoga to relieve some of her frustrations. To Imani, it mattered not whether she was partaking in some breathing exercises or she was engaged in a kickboxing match against someone twice her size; by the end, all the negative energy that had previously accumulated seemingly melted away.

Not wanting to be late, Imani put on some clothes and combed her hair, neatly parting it to one side. Taking a last glance at her reflection, the details from that night resurfaced.

15 years ago

---

Imani sat on the park bench, her eyes fixated upon a distant group of children at play. The setting sun painted a warm glow on the world around her. She sighed, the tension in her shoulders evident. Daniel approached cautiously, aware that their argument had reached a critical point.

"Imani," he said gently, taking his place beside her. "Can we talk this out?"

She shot him a glare, her frustration evident. "Talk about what, Daniel? The fact that you never listen? That each time I try to express myself, you only brush it off?"

He ran a hand through his hair, one nervous habit of his. "I get it, Imani, I do, just that sometimes I don't agree with your choices."

She shook her head, her gaze breaking away from his. "It's not about agreeing or disagreeing, it's about respecting me. You can't dismiss my emotions like they’re trash."

He sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. “I apologize, Imani. It’s not my intent to dismiss your emotions...”

---

That was some of what she remembered prior to the sudden onslaught of gunfire that followed. Her expression was sad and reminiscent from that tragedy, but nonetheless she went off to the galley to see why they'd been summoned.