Crow Call

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Paganism

Oh the peasantry!
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. Multiple posts per week
  4. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Give-No-Fucks
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
I kind of like fantasy but I really like Sci-fie. I'm really flexible though and am familiar with various genres.
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"You think you know my story, could you accept all twenty-thousand leagues? I'm not sure if your ready but if you truly believe you are then strap on your protective harnesses and prepare for lift off."

There's been lives lost and lives given in the Valley of the Moon; too many to count. Folks have come and gone left and right. There's a resemblance to a sickness that's fallen on the people of this region. It takes hold of those who have lived here the longest, it's slimmy little fingers wrap around their throats. Like a storm this sickness builds, it's dark clouds pile together blanketing the horizon.

The Valley of the Moon is a beautiful curse, life's always thriving day or night. It's the center of all trade where quite a few can be found haggling. Currency within' this valley flows like a rolling river. It's in the shops and all other small businesses located up and down the streets. The coin surely fuels the economy.

A lone bird in the distance sings a wonderful song for all the world to hear; she's companion less and preparing to retire for the night. She ruffles black feathers that appear impenetrable - they are dark as a starless night with hues that glimmered a slight green in the light. It's roughly five-thirty and the sun casts a beautiful sunset on the horizon that's purple and orange. The times starting to grow ripe, it's just right for the picking.

A woman sits by the building, a building beautifully constructed. The brick work is amazing the perplexity in certain areas is breath taking. The relaxing sensation given off draws people, they can't help but travel this peaceful route. It's the more artistic part of the town where everyone takes pride in the work.

An obdurate mortal resides in the stronghold to the north, the structor sits on top of a perfect little hill. The man insides unbent, relentless; he'll stop at nothing to accomplish his evil, dark, desires.
 
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(Picture above: Vanessa, my RPC)
She was sitting near the bell tower when the ebony Jay sang her tune to the world. Catching Vanessa's attention the dulcet sound of the bird distracted her but only for a few seconds. She listened to the bird sing her good-bye, the sound traveling through the ear cannal to beat on the ear drum. Her attention was distraught but only for a few seconds, she's people watching and damn good at it too. Moving about the citizens continue on with their routines oblivious to the world around them.

The weight strikes the brass walls of the bell causing it to rang out, ironically as Vanessa stood up. She had been in a kneeling position with her back leaning up against the wall. Standing her knees and ankles crack, she had been seated for a long while. The area where she was located is a wonderful little station to stop and pass the time. For her it's a place to clear her head; an open asylum to cut out all the bullshit.

An insubstantial current blows in from the west, she closed her eyes and lowered her head allowing the breeze to kiss her neck. The breeze felt great; the cool air blending with the warm was a welcoming touch. Light blue hues glance up at the bell in the top of the establishment. In doing so she reveled a brilliant little smile, "I'll see you again my friend." she says.

Turning her body to face the sidewalk she moves in the direction of the towns square. She's got places to go and things to do and will stop at nothing to try and accomplish such. She lights a cigarette and hums a pleasing song as she walks towards her destination.
 
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Iyame sighed softly, lying back on the pavement. She was in a small alleyway so that she wasn't in anyone's way and hopefully wasn't stood on. She was a little further from her place than normal, but she really didn't care. It was nice just to stare at the sky. Hearing footsteps, she turned her head towards them, watching as people walked by. She didn't envy them and their busy lives, rather, she felt happy that she never had to worry about anything. Looking back to the skies the small girl smiled, humming softly to herself to help pass the time.





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As the breeze picked up Shilu pulled up the scarf around his neck preventing the wind from reaching his neck. Though it was rather warm, he hated the cold and preferred not to feel it at all costs. Rushing across the street he soon entered a small building. It wasn't much but it was enough to hold small classes within it for the children around town. One day he had hoped to get somewhere larger, but for now it would do.​
 
Preparing to make her way towards the square Vanessa steps onto the busy sidewalk but doesn't go any further. She casually decides to stand there for a few seconds, decisive on which route to take. There are so many options to choose from. She could take Sixth down to Hacyinith, or Seventh; which goes south to west, then north. In the end the last choice spits her out on Callicure Way which is the main road she needs to be on. "Enie-Meanie-minie-Moe." she says to herself soundlessly.

She's dressed in a brown leather vest with white fringe and jeans with a different hue of blue in certain spots. She also has on a pair of brown boots and two knifes that are sheathed on her belt. Reaching back she checks the six inch blades, she casually fixes them. She likes a smooth quick draw, she's a hand with a blade. "Hmm." She lets loose a crisp inconclusive sound, the decisions a toughie.

She decides to head south, turning just as a man crosses the street. He heads into a potentially uninhabited classroom that upon further speculation looks empty.
 
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Shilu sighed softly, walking to the end of the hall and sitting at a small desk. As he cast his eyes around the building he noticed that there were only a couple students. He sighed again, standing once more. "Alright, outside classes today," he murmured, motioning towards the front door. As the two filed down the narrow path, he followed behind them. "We'll head to the square for a little history first."​
 
The day was profound and unlike any other. The town bustling as usual, with the occasional severe silence that perturbed the ideal that there was always shady dealings going on in this grand expanse of architecture and populace. From the very entrance, to the always busy markets, to the residential and commercial districts. Even the barracks and walls of the locale itself were all busy in some form or another.

But one such soul, does not belong. One not of this realm, who has been encountered yet again by the ill-boding folk that seek to drive their pain and lack of tolerance on others.

Said soul, is the soul of the last being of his kind, and only a young boy at the age of eleven at that. A boy of lean build, sharp and wary carmine/crimson red eyes, sun-kissed lightly tanned skin, and the most vibrant and natural blue hair you'd ever see in a realm where none of this belongs. His energy presiding a lack of innocence and a hidden hurt and rage deep within.

His breathing ragged as he runs in between the shallow and bewildered folk of the market, bumping past people and making them drop belongings or give a perplexed look. Some even losing their patience and joining the row of wild and angry brigands who follow as close behind as they can muster.

"Get that little bastard in-human! He's a thief and a vagabond!" Says the biggest one, who is clearly losing ground. Obviously the leader meaning to call out to his more fortunate and much more agile subordinates.

Racutio would only scoff and run faster. "I'm not a thief, you stupid clown! You guys stole it to begin with, you filthy grumbling bandits! You all can kiss my ass!" He'd say crudely, making the leader angrier.

"Get that kid! The boss wants that prototype back!"

Racutio would press forward, and shoot around a corner, cornering himself in a dead end behind an old derelict building. Elevation too high on either side to climb or wall-run to the rooftop. "Tch...Damn, guess I'm stuck now..." He'd turn around, and he's instantly surrounded by all twelve full-grown men, fully armed and weapons drawn.

"Always with the prejudice against in-human beings, wherever I go..." He'd only sigh, keeping his weapon sheathed under his cloak. He'd shrug at them and shake his head. "Is a special crossbow really worth all this trouble, gentleman? Is it really worth killing a child over?!" He'd say this loud enough to get most of the over-watcher's attention. All the guards however, turning a blind eye, due to the factor in-human's don't deserve protection of the town guard. Many of the shoppers and merchants all gather behind the group, watching them close in on the boy in the alley. He'd only smile, not even taking a step back.

"Cocky little bastard, aren't you boy?" Says the leader, as he shoves his men aside, cracking his thick muscular neck, and standing a good several feet above Racutio. The young man would only cock his head to the left and smirk. "Says the giant lump trying to intimidate a young guy like me. What are you, a thief and a pedophile? You really have no shame, you bandit types."

"WHAT'D YOU SAY YOU LITTLE SCUMBAG?!" He'd reach back and draw his huge war-sledge off his back, hefting it for a swing. "I'll crush you you little bug! Screw the prototype! Nobody mocks me publicly and gets away with it!"

His men would stand behind him, making a defensive line and blocking either of them from leaving the dead end, and each making retorts about their boss and how screwed this kid was. Racutio had all of this in account, as his eyes would begin to glow dimly under his leather hood, and he'd only grin. "I'm going to enjoy this way more than any of you will..." He'd say this, and take stance, holding firm as he places his feet firmly down, grounding himself and ready to take anything and everything they have to muster. His eyes moving rapidly and statistically counting every weapon, every soul, and the intent of those around him. "You aren't the one who's going to kill me, however..."

Appearances:
The following are how my character looks, what he is wearing, and what he is wielding.

First picture is his size, his hair style, and how he stances himself frequently.
Second picture is what his eyes look like, especially when they glow, making him look twice as in-human as he already does naturally.
Third picture is his armor, though it shouldn't be near as extravagant nor as large as it is in the picture, due to the factor he is young in this. But it's the gist of what it looks like, and what he is wearing.
Fourth picture and everything else are the many forms of his family sword, and primary weapon of choice, Mar'tal, The Mar'tallian Soul Heir sword.
 

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The Vanessa most know is welcoming; caring, open hearted and willing to do anything for anyone. She's kind, complex, ready to open verbal as well as physical fire on the dark souls that aim to destroy. She listens to the ruckus near by – fucking fools. Who in their right mind can say they are healthy when they are truly sick. The evil, it's a shame, it's a disease that's pathogens are hard to break. Standing there she scans, her wonderful ears detecting sounds that flood her. Itty bitty details pop forth. The man that entered the building, the teacher soon exits with only two young brilliant minds – class must be small tonight.

She watches them as they go on their merry way, their destination the square. The squares a wonderful place to hold class, especially history. Their choice was obvious, easily readable. She inputs a mental note, "meet up with the class" when she's able to do such. At the moment though she's got other plans.

The young boy sprinting from one alley to the next had her attention, her heightened sense of perception locked on. She carefully listens to what transpires within the confined space. There seemed to be a bone of contention taking place and it was either going to end in the boys favor or not. Either way there was tension in the air heating up at an exellerated rate. She then started establishing a plan. Her plan itself consisted of helping the young boy, if there was any way she could.

Clearing her throat she rounds the corner to stand in the arch that leads into the alley, she was at the mouth of the great divide. At the end of the alley stood a group surrounding one innocent little lad. She smiles an evil plotful smile as she then begins to speak, "hey you! Scumbags! Leave that boy alone." Her words harsh. Her left arm motions moving back to rest her hand on one of the blades. She's ready if they change their mind to attack her instead. She'd saluter them all...easily.

Turning one of the men looks at her, his eyes burning. "Who do you think you are girl?" he says. He's a dumb ass to think he'd be able to take her, his words sounded like a challenge. In these tight quarters she's got the upper hand, she'd annihilate him. She would walk up one side and right down the other. She's curious though and wants to see what this young boys story is. Who is he? What's his potential? What's he truly capable of?
 
Shilu took the lead as the group exited the building and took his time as he lead them towards the square. As they passed different parts of the town he would stop and explain their significance in the town's history. The group passed a few old post buildings and a couple distilleries before coming across the city hall. It was at the northern entrance to the town square and was at least twice the size of a normal town house. With its fresh, whiter walls it was one of the few buildings that stood out from the others.



sitting up Iyame pulled the small bear to her chest. She was beginning to get very bored and decided it would be a good idea to have a look around. Standing she made her way to the main road, pausing before stepping out. The road was awfully busy and she wasn't sure if she wanted to go out onto the road anyways.​
 
Ruin updated Crow Call with a new update entry:

mhmnm

Racutio is still posting, I'm simply writing in this field to keep the roleplay active so it doesn't get pushed into the archive. Anywho busy busy bee's we are, buzzing through the forest/ Stop look down and all around to see the wonderful flowers/ Colors colors they are everywhere, pettles of blues and greens/

Read the rest of this update entry...
 
a strange being lands behind this woman with tall white wings and a shadow covers his features except for his glowing gold eyes
 
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Ruin updated Crow Call with a new update entry:

josephoshearoleplay

@josephoshearoleplay; Hmm could you possibly reread or check out my ooc - you'll find the ooc page on the thread overview. I hate having to be that person, if you want pm me I'll explain more - sadly though I'm going to have to fix or at least add some minor details into the thread overview...I hate noticing shit like this but I'm going to try and work it out within' the next fourty-eight hours.

Thanks,
Ruin

P.s
This is a very easy fix, @Demmy @Racutio, don't edit your posts. Ra, keep typing yours but don't drop it on the thread until josephoshearoleplay makes a slight change. Joseph (may I call you Joseph?) I'd really enjoy having a third party member in this, it's going to be a blast so try and hang around. Anyway rest of the convo will be held at my ooc chat for Crow Call.

Read the rest of this update entry...
 
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Darkness would seem to creep up on the alleyway itself, as Racutio's eyes glow bright red now, and a grin creeps across his face, his canines sharp and vicious-looking, not unlike a dragon's or a truly carnivorous being. The leader of them all getting fed up with the child in front of him, would heft his hammer up, and growl loudly before spewing angrily down at him and swinging his hammer at the same time down on the boy. "You cocky little monster! I'll crush you to bits!" With a loud rush of air, the hammer would come down, making an ear-splitting rumble as metal meets stone, the boy having stepped out of the way of the huge heavy weapon and stepped forward in close next to the huge behemoth of a man while his hammer is stuck, sucker-punching him in his Adam's Apple, hitting his wind-pipe and main arteries in one blow, making him release the handle of his hammer, step back, and clutch his throat for air, having been hit in the throat with the force of a Golem, his neck is entirely caved-in, as he gasps for air. The huge man would make a chilling gurgling sound, as the rage seeps off his face, and turns into fear and desperation. He reaches out to one of his men for help, but he steps back and away in pure terror.

Racutio would only step back, grabbing the hammer's haft with both hands, he'd rip it out of the stone and toss it into the dead end behind him, making it smash into the wall and through it, making it no longer a dead-end as it clears the way into an old derelict building. "I hate being called a monster...It's sickening to be called a monster by the real monsters that exist..." He'd turn his head, looking at the leader with pure loathing. "But I'm done with you now. I gave you a chance..." The leader would stop clutching his throat and send his fist hurtling at Racutio's stomach in what feel like his last moments. The blow would connect, knocking the spit out of the boy before making him skid back into the part of the wall that didn't get caved.

The pressure in the alley would seem to intensify now as Racutio looks up, growls loudly like a little beast in pure anger, and leaps at the man's head, proceeding to whip himself around his neck, he'd reach around his head, place his hands flat on his forehead, and his feet on the back of his neck, he'd grit his teeth wildly, and pull back with his hands, and step with full-force into his neck, shattering the beast of a man's neck, and making his eyes mull over, locking him not in death, but in a full-blown coma, fixing his breathing, but shattering the connection to his brain. He'd release his hands and kick the man's body forward, making him drop to the ground with a quaking thud. Racutio would land, panting from adrenaline and from preventing himself from killing this man in the moment, even though he wanted to so heavily. His breathing tense, he'd only turn and look at his crew, making them all shudder.

"He...He dropped the boss!" One of the lanky bandit crew members would shout out, making all of the men, even the ones who turned around to engage the young woman, would all recoil a moment and look to the leader. The man looking dead, and Racutio looking like his murderer, they all would draw their weapons at once, even the one's who originally were not armed. All of them presiding an aura of fear and hatred towards Racutio now. He would only respond by reaching behind his belt to grab the handle to his own weapon, refraining from drawing it until the last moment.

The situation becoming more tense now...
 
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