- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Anything that actually has, you know, a good plot. I prefer RPs with fantastical elements, however, so generally, a bit of fantasy goes a long way.
@RedArmyShogun
“Oh, no,” Marionette shook her head, “If Caelan can’t do it and make it back, I doubt anyone here would be able to. Naturally, your impatience and restlessness is understandable, but ultimately…what can we do but wait?”
“The silver blooded individual, isn’t the rabbit, so even if Heidemarie fell in combat against them, it’ll be nothing but revenge motivating us, right?” The white-haired lady nodded to herself, as if all that mattered was her own opinion when regarding such matters. “No one here has the ability to deal with a bullet right now, and human shields can only go so far. You said it yourself, right?”
Bitter laughter sounded from Marionette, but was it truly that bitter? “Controlling a body doesn’t mean I control bullets. In a quick draw scenario, I can’t win nearly as flawlessly as Onyx or Caelan. And Assassinate isn’t going to help enough either. And as for your own power…well…”
She trailed off from there. “Well, if you are feeling relatively restless, how about we spend some time confirming Yohan’s fate instead? Mayhaps he was sealed, not killed? Mayhaps his companion is lost, not a murderer?”
“I’d like to think the Silver Blooded one will pay us a visit once our hunting party has come back, so hey, let’s see what scraps of power we can gather up.”
@Random @Jageroux
Madelon’s eyes widened, snapping in the direction of the strange girl that knew too much, that continued to speak of such things with enough confidence that she couldn’t help but want to trust her. In the hellscape that continued to rain cosmic fury, continued to turn wonder into ash, against an insurmountable foe that even her strongest friend couldn’t destroy, that radiance was a beacon, perhaps. A foundation to cling to, while everything else was a quagmire of violence. The trust that was placed in her, and the trust that she placed in return.
Desecrate. The tainted gift that was the only key. The witch had warned her against this, had said that it would jeopardize her soul, that losing part of her essence was better than the effects of embracing the gift, but what did she know?!
Was she the one facing down a monster of enormous proportions? The one whose every breath grew more and more ragged as oxygen was burnt to fuel supernatural flames? The one that never, ever, EVER wanted to find herself alone in that abyss again, even if that same incomprehensible fear would be chased away by the comfort of a mother she never knew?
No.
Madelon welcomed the moistness that gathered in her eyes. Welcomed the frustration that she hadn’t felt in such a long time. Hiding behind his back, unable to do a thing herself. Watching others theorize, never being able to find her own voice. Remaining nothing but a girl trying to eke out an academic life within the Dropout Districts, burning away her precious time work 16 hours every day of the weekend just to make ends meet!
“I’ll do it,” she spat venomously, hating hating HATING, “Just…show me the way.”
Hating that even still, she couldn’t do it herself.
@Jakers
Zachariah Earnest was a gentle man, one more than happy to help out his fellow clubmates. Accommodating the single-minded selfishness of the Carnival Club’s President, here he was, slaving away at crates of god-knows-what instead of taking the one course on his schedule that actually interested him. It was fine though. His professor was already aware of last night’s performance, and showed surprising leniency in terms of his absence from class, leaving the third year free to do the manual labor his parents had wanted him to escape from, and the manual labor that part of him really wished he could escape from.
Wiping the sweat off his brow, the thickly built man was reorganizing the crates within a large, mud-green gurney when an unfamiliar voice, attached to an unfamiliar face, sounded behind him. A fan? No…a fledging. Applications of club memberships were to start in two days, but it looked like the blonde Morceban, tired as his eyes indicated, couldn’t help but be particularly earnest. Well, that wasn’t a bad trait, and Zachariah was a gentle man. Shaking his head, he said, in a thick, Kiev Rus accent, “No, no need for that, friend. Tis a bit early for this, but if you’re interested in joining the Carnival Club, well, Student District, Block 23-E. Someone will be there. For better or worse, someone will always be there.”
“Those looney magic enthusiasts,” he said after a short pause, chortling. “I’m sure they’ll welcome eager young blood, especially one with a good trick!”
“Oh, no,” Marionette shook her head, “If Caelan can’t do it and make it back, I doubt anyone here would be able to. Naturally, your impatience and restlessness is understandable, but ultimately…what can we do but wait?”
“The silver blooded individual, isn’t the rabbit, so even if Heidemarie fell in combat against them, it’ll be nothing but revenge motivating us, right?” The white-haired lady nodded to herself, as if all that mattered was her own opinion when regarding such matters. “No one here has the ability to deal with a bullet right now, and human shields can only go so far. You said it yourself, right?”
Bitter laughter sounded from Marionette, but was it truly that bitter? “Controlling a body doesn’t mean I control bullets. In a quick draw scenario, I can’t win nearly as flawlessly as Onyx or Caelan. And Assassinate isn’t going to help enough either. And as for your own power…well…”
She trailed off from there. “Well, if you are feeling relatively restless, how about we spend some time confirming Yohan’s fate instead? Mayhaps he was sealed, not killed? Mayhaps his companion is lost, not a murderer?”
“I’d like to think the Silver Blooded one will pay us a visit once our hunting party has come back, so hey, let’s see what scraps of power we can gather up.”
@Random @Jageroux
Madelon’s eyes widened, snapping in the direction of the strange girl that knew too much, that continued to speak of such things with enough confidence that she couldn’t help but want to trust her. In the hellscape that continued to rain cosmic fury, continued to turn wonder into ash, against an insurmountable foe that even her strongest friend couldn’t destroy, that radiance was a beacon, perhaps. A foundation to cling to, while everything else was a quagmire of violence. The trust that was placed in her, and the trust that she placed in return.
Desecrate. The tainted gift that was the only key. The witch had warned her against this, had said that it would jeopardize her soul, that losing part of her essence was better than the effects of embracing the gift, but what did she know?!
Was she the one facing down a monster of enormous proportions? The one whose every breath grew more and more ragged as oxygen was burnt to fuel supernatural flames? The one that never, ever, EVER wanted to find herself alone in that abyss again, even if that same incomprehensible fear would be chased away by the comfort of a mother she never knew?
No.
Madelon welcomed the moistness that gathered in her eyes. Welcomed the frustration that she hadn’t felt in such a long time. Hiding behind his back, unable to do a thing herself. Watching others theorize, never being able to find her own voice. Remaining nothing but a girl trying to eke out an academic life within the Dropout Districts, burning away her precious time work 16 hours every day of the weekend just to make ends meet!
“I’ll do it,” she spat venomously, hating hating HATING, “Just…show me the way.”
Hating that even still, she couldn’t do it herself.
@Jakers
Zachariah Earnest was a gentle man, one more than happy to help out his fellow clubmates. Accommodating the single-minded selfishness of the Carnival Club’s President, here he was, slaving away at crates of god-knows-what instead of taking the one course on his schedule that actually interested him. It was fine though. His professor was already aware of last night’s performance, and showed surprising leniency in terms of his absence from class, leaving the third year free to do the manual labor his parents had wanted him to escape from, and the manual labor that part of him really wished he could escape from.
Wiping the sweat off his brow, the thickly built man was reorganizing the crates within a large, mud-green gurney when an unfamiliar voice, attached to an unfamiliar face, sounded behind him. A fan? No…a fledging. Applications of club memberships were to start in two days, but it looked like the blonde Morceban, tired as his eyes indicated, couldn’t help but be particularly earnest. Well, that wasn’t a bad trait, and Zachariah was a gentle man. Shaking his head, he said, in a thick, Kiev Rus accent, “No, no need for that, friend. Tis a bit early for this, but if you’re interested in joining the Carnival Club, well, Student District, Block 23-E. Someone will be there. For better or worse, someone will always be there.”
“Those looney magic enthusiasts,” he said after a short pause, chortling. “I’m sure they’ll welcome eager young blood, especially one with a good trick!”