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Messages - Krystal Itzume

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91
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: The Master's Redemption [Closed]
« on: May 07, 2016, 09:07:49 pm »
Beckett led.

Angelus followed.

Between them walked the Master, Maya, and the lich king. If he had a name, it was now completely irrelevant. His fate was sealed.

Maya didn’t approve of all the threats lingering in the air, but everyone was cooperating. For that, she felt like she could almost breathe. Almost being the key word. Though she wore the mask of control to keep them all in line, her mind was still reeling. And Angelus had to say that damnable name.

She still saw it on the phone.

She still heard the ring tone.

She still knew. It hadn’t been long ago, though it had also not happened. Only in her head.

“Who are you pretending to be now?”


Only where it mattered. Maya pushed her fingers through her hair in agitation, and so she wouldn’t just hit her own head to remove the voice that had returned, after years of trying to forget that velvet-and-nails sound.

She hummed, to drown it out as well, a carry-over habit from the dream now, it seemed. A way to deal with the noisy mind. Only one song came to mind, and it was about drowning as well. Ailein Duinn. It may have also come to mind because of Aeron...his name had those origins, and wouldn't drowning be a fitting death for him?

Angelus caught the melody and frowned a bit. That was one he hadn't heard in a while--a good song, of course. Celtic. Maya had struggled to learn the proper pronunciations, but she was used to doing that. It was part of singing--learning how to pronounce words.

Angelus and Beckett dealt with the zombies, and they came to the TARDIS soon enough. Maya paused outside it, “I would like to speak with Beckett alone, please.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an order, either. She was still hoping that both Angelus and the Master would listen.

Angelus wrinkled his nose, “Fine,” in his irritation, he’d forgotten that Beckett still owed him an answer about Maya, and so he reached for the TARDIS door to return to it. Better her alone with Beckett, than her alone with the Master.

“Wait,” as he thought that, he remembered, “Beckett—you promised me info.”

~***~

Aeron shook his head as the wine menu was offered, “Whatever red you would prefer, Cyrus,” he indicated. At least with red he could try to fool his mind as to what was in the cup. It still tasted terrible.

Cyrus cut to the point, and Aeron removed a flashdrive from his pocket and set it between them. “On that is all the information that could be retrieved in the moment we had access to it,” before that was rather suddenly severed. “E-mails between Maya Porter, Angelus Porter, Jasmine Russle, Julio Bauss, and Andrew Young. It will tell you where he’s been, and what he’s been up to, since Halloween to Christmas,” their time. The times they went to and saw were usually noted in the e-mails. “There are pictures so you may have an idea of how he looks, but in sum—you should be wroth with him.”

Aeron returned his hand to his side, after tapping the flash drive with his index finger. “He’s using the same trick as with your Lucy. He’s found a woman with connections, this time to Torchwood and Unit. For all the information they’re getting, he’s also getting information as to their activities, as well. No doubt, he has another mad plan to take over.”

That was not clear in the exchanges, though.


92
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: Star Wars: Rise of the Sith [Closed]
« on: April 26, 2016, 12:36:44 am »
As they walked near, Dawn's thrown lightsaber flew back into her hand. She didn't so much as look in its direction. It was hers, attuned to her alone--her blades would always remember that. Yet, something in the effortlessness and faltering front made Manx think of the name Dawn denied: Skywalker.

‘Everyone thought you would take him on as patron.’
‘Anakin? Or Luke?’
‘...Anakin. You were called Dawn because—’

‘Because they think I will help with a new golden age. I know. We don't need a Skywalker and I don't follow their teachings or philosophies either. Besides, Kenobi, I couldn't have you as Master over me.’


To this day, Manx recalled the sharpness of her denial. Some still called her it, some out of respect and others out of fear. Few were bold enough to say it to her, though. She had become a controversial figure, though, there was no mistaking that.

And he knew that was why her anxiety was rising as the ship came into sight. Manx walked a bit faster to catch up with her pace. “Meditate,” he spoke in a hushed voice. “Ergas will use any weakness against you at the quorum.” It didn't take a genius to work out that the quorum was not a good thing.

Dawn nodded. 

“I will handle getting us back and distracting Ergas. You'll have time to clean up.”
He would take care of both Dreven and Dawn.

With the ship before them, Dawn took a step ahead of Manx and then wrapped a single arm around him. No words passed her lips, or his, before they parted and walked into the ship. “Up with me Dreven,” Manx called, knowing Dawn would not join them in the cockpit.

Dawn did not, of course, but went to get her bearings through meditation, sitting with her legs crossed near the ramp, back to a wall.

Deep breath followed deep breath as Manx set the ship to leave.

Wounds healed. ‘People see what they want.’ Few had ever noticed this, but then, Dawn did not get wounded often.

Bruises healed. Burns healed. Bleeding scabbed over and fell off, by the time they were back at Tython. It was no great wonder to her—Darth Plagueis the Wise could keep people immortal—why then be impressed with mere healing? With enough focus it could be done. Yet, when she rose as the ship landed in the Tython docks, and waited for Manx, he returned to the entrance with surprise on his face.

Her attire was still a wreck, but through the cuts to her dress he could not see any injuries. “What…?” He’d felt the Force at work from up front, of course, but he assumed mere meditation.

Dawn said, “You don’t want that conversation right now.” Her eyes would trail in the direction of Dreven, even if he was still in the cockpit.

Manx understood, and it struck him like a blaster shot. ‘Darth Plagueis.’ Manx kept some secrets. Dawn could be persuasive, and when it came to this matter, arguing with her was impossible. “We will talk, Skywalker,” he noted, using the other name to imply his dissatisfaction with what she was hiding now. He wasn’t sure if he’d ask to learn, or if he’d lecture her for using a skill Jedi clearly weren’t meant to use—something unnatural.

"Jinn."


But was it unnatural if the Jedi were about peace and unity, to heal? He needed to find a way to broach the subject with Ergas without revealing what Dawn could do. Without mentioning the Sith inspiration.

At least now she looked and seemed fine. Her emotions were in check when they exited the ship. To Manx’s surprise, Master Ergas was not waiting there, but Master Corvainus was. Manx offered a glance to Dawn and could tell this was not a good sign. He was dressed too formally for it to be a good sign. “Drinks are on me afterwards,” he joked.

Good Jedi didn’t drink.

Dawn gave him a wry grin, “I may take you up on that,” she then gave him a nod, “Go on. You have much to report.”

Manx would motion to Dreven to follow then. He had an idea of where he was. He gave a short wave to Master Corvainus, but did not go to him. He could never quite place it, but there was something…off…about Master Corvainus. He found he disliked talking to him, though not to the extremes that Dawn disliked talking to Master Ergas. It was rather interesting how they didn’t seem to get on with the Masters of each other. “Come on, Dreven,” he didn’t want Dreven to approach him, either.


Dawn always pretended not to notice. She walked towards her former Master, but she did not greet him with a smile. To see him like this was no smiling matter, even if he managed to be a silver fox; he didn’t dress up for just any occasion. “Master,” Dawn greeted, “Should I assume this means that Master Ergas is actually trying to get me removed from the Order?”

Why waste time? Alec knew what Ergas wanted if he was here. He could let her know the nature of this quorum.

93
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Monster-of-the-Week [Closed]
« on: April 15, 2016, 07:42:26 pm »
The blonde woman followed to the bar and even took a seat on stool. She was silent as Seth began to blend his drink, so obviously perturbed. So loud. It amused her greatly. The hunters of this time were brash...or perhaps it was an American trait.

They were rebellious, those colonists. Never mind that she was born American this time. "No, but thank you," and the uncouth man proceeded to drink straight from the blender, still unclothed, still ridiculous.

The Yuki Onna was well and truly dead. 'And no other.' Which meant this was not a lead Vastien had followed. Still, Seren would have to ask. A part of her wondered if it was her demon who inspired all these brash hunters. "You will get one question, so choose it wisely, Mister Sterling," she said, voice smooth. She wouldn't react to his anger. She was never intimidated. "I only have one more for you, and then I will leave. You may ask Artemis what you like," though Seren had no ties to her. "I simply need to know if you had help or hindrance from a man in dealing with the Yuki Onna. I am looking for him." She couldn't offer a description. In truth, she wasn't sure if Vastien had started to wear a female guise...or if he could.

All she knew was that he had been male, and he got involved with hunting. A trail had led her here...but so many turned up cold lately.

94
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: Star Wars: Rise of the Sith [Closed]
« on: April 09, 2016, 12:05:00 am »
Dawn and Manx were silent through it all, the Knights waiting for the storm to clear. As soon as the Twi’lek offered his name, Dawn’s purple eyes shot open and she rose calmly from her seated position, wounds closed. It would take longer to heal them, but that could be accomplished in the Jedi temple.

“Yes, we will, Bunn.”


Dawn let him run. The thought crossed her mind to pursue and strand both Dreven and Manx on the planet, but no—if she was going to get permission to hunt the Sith, she had to maintain control. Still, she watched him flee, and that nagging feeling of familiarity remained.

Something in his aura, in his skill—something kept ringing as familiar.

She heard Manx speaking to Dreven, though, “Do not ever do something like that again,” he pointed right at the corpse. His own anger did not show, and it did not ripple the Force around him. Yet, his voice was forceful and composed with the chill finality a true Jedi could muster. "Your temper is the very reason we have lost the child, Dreven. Do you not see why I have kept you from most missions? You have just made it abundantly clear you are not ready to so much as engage a mercenary in combat, let alone a bounty hunter."

Dawn turned on heel towards them, ignoring the villages, and approached. “And you have made it abundantly clear that you aren't, either, Kenobi. If it weren't for the importance of reporting this to the Jedi Council, I would have let the Sith tear into all of you for daring to consider it all right to give him so much as an inch.”

And Manx all but shrank at that one word—that one word that reminded them she was Jinn and he was Kenobi, and she meant to remind him that Kenobi was lower on the totem pole. Even if the Jedi Council would deny it and claim the pair of them were equals, Manx knew his standing in that instant and what it would mean to defy it.

A ‘Yes, Master’ nearly parted his lips.

“Dreven will stay behind for our future missions,”
she indicated, looking then to Dreven, “If I see you near Bunn again with that much rage and hatred, I will put you down myself.” She didn’t mean death, but she certainly meant that Dreven would not be a contributing part to any fight with the Sith. “You will be responsible for explaining why we do not have the child to Master Ergas.”

“Jinn,”
Manx immediately spoke up, “Let me, he was my mentor.”

“And he clearly didn’t do a good enough job with you, if you can’t teach your padawans to avoid such outbursts.” Manx grit his teeth. “Let him tell Ergas. I have to prepare for a Quorum, and this was your mission, not mine.” She had been asked along to make sure it wouldn’t fail, but the reason it failed was beyond her control—Manx and Dreven both making poor choices that allowed the Sith to steal a child. “Come now, let’s get back.”

She turned back and started to walk, rather than run, her presence seeming to push all villagers who might have asked questions away. Force trick. A subtle manipulation of her own aura that made others decide they were better about 500 miles away.

Even Manx kept a few extra steps back as he followed, offering to Dreven, “I will remain with you as you make your report to Master Ergas. Just be honest,” though he knew Ergas would be upset with both of them. Giving up to the Sith…it was unforgivable.


95
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 31, 2016, 01:52:44 am »
Erin did not know Elac to be violent, but desperate times meant desperate measures. She was dragged along, arm all but pulled out of its socket as she was pulled to keep up with him. He made a passage with force of strength, and Erin could only try to keep up.

She hated her shoes then.

She hated her dress.

There were still screams and the sounds of chaos as they exited the main room and entered into the corridor. Desperate people broke windows, which confused Erin. “Aren’t the doors unlocked?” Why would they be locked, unless Mina meant to trap them all?

Even so, the glass was breaking, the pretty shards cutting into people. Blood stained the floor, but people were getting out. Erin pushed for the door. Perhaps it was just the straight-shot that scared people, but the creature that had appeared did not seem to be following.

Erin didn’t dare to look back, though.

~***~

Mina could practically hear the fear in every beat that came from Doan. His eyes were wild, but he was not running away. Fool that he was, he was staying near. He wanted to be a part of this, and her lips slid easily into a smile as she canted her head at his declaration. “Really? I wonder if you are sincere or if you are afraid.”

It did not matter in the moment, but it would matter later. Mina sized him up, purple eyes raking over the usually composed man. “It is your family’s way to jump on untested ships though, isn’t it?” And usually, those ships sailed smoothly.

Mina should take it as a compliment. “Let’s see how long you last,” Mina saw the distraction of the creature, and what caused it. She saw the stranger who took to worship rather than fleeing, who fell before the portal but saved the creature. She did not imagine he would survive. As the other creatures followed the example of the first, he would be taken down by them for crimes his ancestors had committed.

Perhaps Doan would be different. She reached for his hand, and then pushed energy out, keeping him just within the field so he would not be pushed away.

Mina walked towards the creature, a field of sorts existing four feet around her. If anyone did try to shoot her now, it would be deflected. This was more for her to clear a path for herself, the way she’d cleared one for Constantine. “Do you understand me?” She asked it, uncertain if it would try to harm her, or if it was curious—if it sensed she was more like it, than the humans around them.

She didn’t even give a glance to the one who spoke the term “Prophet”.

She was not a prophet.

 

96
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Monster-of-the-Week [Closed]
« on: March 31, 2016, 01:21:20 am »
Jean-Baptiste’s trick with the feather was an unkind trick.

The blonde woman stumbled through that brief tear in space, Rottweiler at her side, and tried to keep her feet and keep walking. She’d gotten better at that part, as the feather dissolved to dust and faded away. “No, I don’t remember where I left the car,” she told the dog as he let out a whine, not a fan of the fast travel. “It’s late, isn’t it?” The home they stood before seemed to be clearing of people, guests who didn’t know how to have a funeral.

She stared upon the cars that left. “I suppose it can wait until morning. If she is dead, this is another dead end anyway. Come,” a snap of her fingers, and she turned away from the home.

She would return there the next morning, cleansed refreshed, platinum hair put up in a messy bun, dress something that might be the norm on certain streets in Japan. In truth, the young woman had simply fallen in love with the ‘Lolita’ fashions, as they were a twisted variant of the style from her own time, but it also fit the circumstances.

A Japanese woman was missing—one Seren intended to claim as a friend. So she walked confidently up to the home in a black, Gothic Lolita dress.

An older man answered and met the young woman at the door to the large home. She smiled at him and spun her lie of a Japanese woman which worked spectacularly. It seemed this Yuki-Onna followed the norm. There was no way she would have gotten seen that quickly otherwise...no matter how pretty she was.

"Baali, stay,"
she cooed to the Rottweiler. The dog let out a huff, then laid down.

She turned a smile to the older man, "I will follow," she indicated, and let the man lead the way, looking idly around the home. It was spacious and well decorated, but screamed of new blood. It was gaudy and decorated with too many different cultures to be Old Blood.

The weight room at least kept a single theme. The man of the hour dropped his weight on seeing her, causing a wicked grin to cross her lips.

It vanished quickly.

Seth Sterling joined them and the woman locked her hands behind her back. An introduction was attempted, but the woman spoke as if words hadn't been left hanging. She didn’t even offer a gloved hand to shake, and didn’t seem impressed with his sweaty and half-nude self, though certainly most women would have swooned at the sight.

The woman still held all the aura of aristocracy, and all the poise of a long-dead time. “Thank you for seeing me, Seth. My condolences for your loss. I know the pain of having to bury parents.” All too well.

She continued, her grey eyes remaining calm upon him, “I was hoping you knew my friend Yuki Onna”  she spoke it as if it were a name, certain the servant wouldn't understand it. If Seth did, that was enough. If not, it was another wasted trip. “She was a friend of Roy and came to see him off, but she was staying with me while in town. Do you know where she is?”

97
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 27, 2016, 04:55:59 am »
‘This place is not for us.’ Erin heard the words but still found herself frozen, awe-struck and terrified, by the thing that came through from the other side.

Who was Mina?

What was this thing?

Staying was not a good idea. What Mina brought, sought destruction, food, or something that meant their lives were going to end, and though Erin knew this, all she wanted to do was curl up into a tiny ball and hope to go unnoticed.

Erin watched as a guard died, and Layton got the hint to turn and run. Constantine stood gaping, going from shock to anger in seconds. He was not a fighting man, not with weapons, though.

“Mina! What is the meaning of this?”
He shouted across the din.

Erin saw as Mina turned her head while the second guard’s fluids ran down the terrifying creature. She saw Mina smile, “It’s meaning should be blatantly obvious, love,” and she turned to face him, the make-up under her eye burned there now, a black scar, as her eyes once again took on their purple hue from white. “Run, if you want to live another day.”

And although Constantine hated orders, he saw the creature distracted by Mina, and so, he ran, with plots swimming in his head of revenge. Of military. Of anything to make sense of this event and put him back on top.

The creature’s attention shifting seemed to catch up with Erin and bring her back to the present. She gasped and yelped as Elac pulled at her, and she was finally brought out of her chair in stumbling steps that caused her to collide with the back of Elac. She took a look back, and then, followed the way Elac was pulling—out, in the sea of people, taking advantage of the creature’s distraction.

~***~

The song vibrated in Mina’s blood. She felt it in her marrow, and her heart seemed to slow to match its beat, its call. It ached in a way she’d felt for years, and did not let her revel in the chaos that was springing up around her.

This was only step one, and all of this would be undone.

The flesh beneath her left eye hurt, and she shut both for a few seconds as Constantine took his leave, only to open the purple orbs onto the creature which had paused to look at her. ‘It could all end now, too.’ She had no control over what she released. It did not know she was its savior, either. She was not even sure it could understand her.

It must have sensed she was not human, though. Not fully, at least. “I am sorry it took so long,” she spoke to it, before she noted Doan out of the corner of her eye.

She shifted only a bit to look at him, and she smiled, raising her eyebrows at his gesture. “Follow me? Don’t you understand,” her tone played at mocking, “My plan is a change in your world’s order,” not excluding the possibility of genocide. “You ought to be running with the rest of the herd,” she didn’t dare to say she wasn’t safe to be around, lest her fragile grasp of the situation reveal itself.

For all intents and purposes, everyone ought to believe she did have control. That she was in charge. 


98
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: Star Wars: Rise of the Sith [Closed]
« on: March 26, 2016, 08:19:54 pm »
Killing was not the Jedi way, but Dawn knew the next time she encountered this Sith, one of them would be dead. She knew not if it would be herself, or the twi’lek, but she was willing to bet it would be him. Next time, she’d be prepared. Buun was making a mistake in dealing with Manx—as Manx was making a mistake in dealing with him.

Each word, and each action, only caused Dawn more anger. ‘Breathe.’ Ayla returned to them, wounded. Dawn felt no pity for her. ‘This is what happens when you work with the Sith.’ Dawn would make note of her, as well as the one who took Dreven. They would have to be hunted down, in order to solve where the Sith came from.

In order to save Tita. ‘Condemning an innocent….’

Dawn took another breath before letting the thought finish. The Sith insulted her, and Dawn fixed him with a much calmer gaze, focus gathered. And then, Manx observed as Dawn simply took a seat in the sand, legs crossed, and shut her eyes, as if nothing around her was worth her attention.

‘This will not be good later.’
He could already see it. Dawn was going to march right to where his Master was as soon as they got off the ship. No doubt, she’d try to get permission to hunt the Sith down on her own, and be denied. Emotional attachments. Revenge schemes.

And Manx did not want to see that, yet he knew it was inevitable. The Jedi would never give Dawn permission to track the Sith if she showed that much anger.

Knowing now that Dawn wouldn’t interrupt, he said, “You can have the child. Just return Dreven,” he said.

Manx watched as the bounty hunter returned with his padawan, conscious, fortunately. He hesitated as the child was asked for first, and glanced again to Dawn. He knew it was foolish to trust the Sith, but what choice did he have? ‘A thousand others.’ This seemed like the best option to try first, and so Manx closed the distance and offered the child to Buun. “Release Dreven now, and leave.”

And although Dawn had shut off her sight, she was keenly aware of everything unfolding around her. If Dreven were not handed over, she’d respond, even if it meant both Dreven and Tita ended up dead—the Sith would accompany them. Yet, that was not her current focus. Stories of Darth Plagueis had inspired research into many fields of the Force. She created her own theories on the Force through Plagueis and Jinn's left-behind stories, and from her own Master's teachings.

Pain was said to be a Sith use, and Darth Plagueis had been Sith—but few considered how ‘pain’ worked with the Force, or Anger. Dawn had learned that using emotions in those states meant using the Force as a way to dispel these things. Force lightning was an attempt to eradicate the thing that made one angry.

So, healing, came from an attempt to remove pain. Dawn worked from that pain, and worked to close her wounds in her focus.

99
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 26, 2016, 08:04:21 pm »
‘And some do not.’

Mina was not sure if what she was doing could be called a conspiracy, just yet. Soon, of course. The theorists would connect all the dots and put her in the center, before she wiped them away. The victors wrote history.

There would be no conspiracy in her history.

Just what she felt was the truth: that humanity got what it deserved.

And so she walked by Doan to Layton, and paused as he mentioned the frivolous quail, “Then get it now.” For it might be his last. He ought to enjoy it. That change from before was back. It was in her stance, her height, that she did not mask anymore with a downturned gaze.

Her steps resumed to bring her again to Layton, and her eyes looked out to see that the one with her face was not leaving. No, he was with his own group again. Mina’s hand lifted to her locket and flicked it open as she asked, “Shall Constantine open, or myself?” Crystal and paper slipped into her hand, and then the locket was shut just as Layton looked over to her.

“The trick will catch their attention,”
he said, “That ought to make them pay attention to Constantine.”

“I was thinking the same.”


Constantine would never speak, then.

~***~

Erin was still fretting, worried, and hurt, when Elac returned and pulled her chair for her. Her smile was flighty, though his was locked in a warm contentment. Erin wanted to ask Elac if it was her, if this stranger was family, or if she were something far more threatening to Erin.

However, she held her tongue. The words would not come out right. Food was brought and set for them all, and Erin found distraction in her hunger before Layton called out to them all again.

“I know you’re all starving, but we have a treat tonight. Ms. Tessmien here has thought of a way to explain energy to everyone who may not know it so well,”
a chuckle, and he shot Doan a knowing look, “and then Constantine has some words to share on the matter as well, as my long-time supporter and friend,” he noted.

Erin’s eyes fell onto Mina then, and noticed now the way the make-up beneath her eye seemed to glow. She could see a tint of red to it. If she could see the crystal, she would have seen blood tipping it, sprung from an index finger. “It’s only a little show about what happens when energy fades, which is what our dear professor is trying to prevent.” Mina admitted. Words that normally would have been said humbly, no longer sounded so.

Hard to fake humility when on the brink of greatness.

“Watch.”
And Erin watched as Mina turned her back to them. She saw the flash of the small crystal and heard a few words, but the words were indecipherable to her. With a breath, the crystal seemed to turn to nothing but sparkling powder that rained down before Mina, but did not coat her.

What she could not see was that Mina’s eyes no longer had color.

It was for that reason that Constantine took a step back, for he saw the change. He saw the symbol on Mina’s face grow and shine, giving Mina a second sight to see the veil between. The crystal helped to break the wall, and they all fell to create a true line of sparkling powder on the floor.

Mina crossed her left foot over the line, and then spun around to be behind it, but not directly. She was a step to the right of it—and it caused quite the reaction.

When the last bit of crystal fell, it was as if a wall had moved. There was a rectangular opening in the room that showed a different scene entirely, a world of decay, and a creature armored with claws and teeth.

“What is this?”
Layton asked, horrified, his grasp of history leaving him. How he had forgotten that this grand room was built over a battlefield, a sign of victory, and a way to forget what had happened here many, many years ago.

Erin felt frozen to her seat.


100
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 24, 2016, 12:41:17 am »
Erin was grateful for the hand, and for each squeeze, as it relaxed her back into the scene and reminded her that she belonged there. Or rather, she belonged with Elac, and he belonged there. By default, then, she belonged. It had suddenly been so strange to find herself beneath Layton’s gaze, that she’d nearly panicked, but she had tried.

Tried and failed.

Not completely, though. Elac now stood before the strange woman with his name, and the conversation was proceeding as it should. It was painful, yes, but wasn’t this the topic that Elac needed to broach? The woman seemed to know. Erin watched as she let those purple eyes relax. Her entire posture changed, for what seemed a moment.

“Once,”
was her answer.

And then Erin lost Elac’s grip, and she no longer belonged with the two beautiful creatures. She felt small, and found her steps retreating back to where the Priest and his group was to seek solace among them, now that her job was done, and Elac would not notice she had left him.

Mina’s eyes didn’t so much as move to follow Erin. “You ought to leave,” Mina told Elac, knowing her rationale had a chance of being wrong. “This place is not for you.”

There was then the voice of Layton to interrupt them, and invite them all to eat. Mina observed the herd move from where she stood, in no hurry even as she felt what was to come. She dared not smile nor alter her own disposition again, not around someone who might pick up on it in a way different from Doan.

She caught Layton’s gaze, and gave a nod, before looking back to Elac. “The fates are conspiring to keep us apart,” she noted to him, before walking to where the trio were—Layton, Doan, and Constantine.

~***~ 

Constantine hardly appreciated the low hand and the way it seemed to be guiding him, but making a fuss would make a scene, and he did not feel like causing that. He glanced back as he realized Mina did not follow to see her standing before her reflection. He was tempted to turn back, but that would be wrong, wouldn’t it?

Yes, in this case.

Layton answered, “Oh yes, I’m planning to take a trip south where there have been some developments in technology to locate dark matter and examine it closer. I already have the tickets and the place to stay,” he was beaming broadly as he considered the possibilities that this venture could bring. Of course, it wasn’t only dark matter that was there, but so many other chemical elements that he could start to test, so many examinations of heat—he would be part of the group that found the ‘God’ element, as it was erroneously called.

And perhaps, he’d name it.

God indeed. It would take on his name.

They reached the staff, and Layton pulled away from Doan and Constantine, smiling a bit at the mess of metal and glass, “I thought I paid you enough to prevent accidents like this,” a jest, but the waiter looked nervous through his smile all the same, “Well, no matter,” he raised his voice, “I’m sure everyone was getting hungry anyway, eh?” He looked to his crowd of admirers, “So we should get the eating out of the way so you all can stop acting like civil human beings and we can clear away the tables! Come on then, don’t be shy,” he spread his arms over the banquet table, “Let’s eat, it’s all on me today.”

Some appropriate chuckles, some careful smiles, as people started to move forward to get food, and Layton gave a nod to Constantine, silently acknowledging that once the fuss and noise settled with people getting food, he’d then let Constantine speak. His eyes then sought Mina, and when he caught her gaze, he made a gesture for her to return, as well.


101
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 23, 2016, 12:20:36 am »
Mina found it amusingly easy to get her way, but then, hadn’t she always? Beautiful and underestimated was the easiest way to the top. People had given her things with the idea she wouldn’t know how to use it, or else, she’d be in their control when she did use it. So Edner vouched for her with a joke that caused a snort and then a laugh from Layton, and Constantine smiled amicably because he could not lose his chance to speak.

Ah, the whims of humans!

Erin, who had chosen to follow Elac, now stood on the outskirts of the group looking in, listening in. ‘Magic?’ What a queer addition to this group. Were they not all men of logic and practicality? They certainly seemed it. Magic seemed to have more of a place in Donair’s discussions. She wondered if the priest would appreciate such a thing, or speak of its blasphemy later.

“What is this trick?”
Constantine asked, for he had not been informed.

“Something that came to mind when mentioned the entropy of the universe,”
she said it correctly. If Constantine noticed, he was careful not to remark, or ‘correct’ her. “I promise it will not detract from anything you are doing,” a careful smile, “Only add.”

Layton shook his head, a cheerful dismissal of the idea that she could ever steal his thunder, “I’m sure it will be enjoyed. And who am I to deny Edner a chance to understand?” It was a joke--Layton knew how well Edner understood. He'd simply caught on that his ignorance was, apparently, the joke today.

A glance to the room showed him those outlying, and he turned a bit so he could see the man with the purple hair closer, squinting as he tried to recall him with the red-head besides him, before he remembered, “Oh, you’re Donair’s friend, aren’t you? Mr. Tessm—” before it was out of his throat, he realized, and he laughed. “Tessmien!” He looked back to Mina, then to Elac, and then motioned Elac towards them. “Mina, you never said you had a brother.”

“Brother?”
Mina canted her head, “No, I’ve never seen him before,” she admitted as Erin stepped up with Elac, “He’s just a man who shares my name. Mr. Tessmien,” she said it almost as if it were a scandal, an upheaval of a norm.

Wasn’t it, though? “Odd,” Constantine managed to remark. He’d tasted the rosé, and he was put out by it, by tried to pretend to enjoy it all the same. He couldn’t help but noticed the similar faces, and the reflected colorations. Were he feeling friendly towards Edner, he’d ask him. Edner ought to know why this oddity existed.

So far as he knew, Mina had no family. Any she had certainly would have been kept near her. “And who are you, dear girl?” Layton asked the red-head, grin amicable, but hardly caring about her presence.

“Erin Pierce,”
it came out too soft. She was embarrassed, she realized a moment later, under that gaze that clearly didn’t care about her existence at all. “Um, Elac Tessmien—” and yet she could not finish. There was the sound of metal on glass, and attention was drawn to where food was being brought out for the banquet.

“Well, tell me later,”
Layton said dismissively, “Now it is time to feast, and enjoy a trick or two.”

Constantine nodded, and walked to follow after Layton, though Mina stayed a moment, staring at her opposite. “Do you have any family, Elac?” she asked.

It was a rude question, but then, she needed to know. The woman, Erin, let her eyes blaze with the offense Elac should feel to be asked that question so bluntly.

Perhaps she should tell him to run—it was on the tip of her tongue to do so. ‘Run. Run because I can’t promise if this trick will spare you, even if we are kin.’ But if they weren’t, did it matter? ‘No.’ Not at all. Everyone in the room deserved what was to come.


102
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 22, 2016, 12:55:31 am »
Erin observed where the woman went, noting the importance of those who seemed to be there. ‘So others must know her.’ And Erin felt pained for Elac’s sake, because this had ended too quickly without resolution. Was she, or wasn’t she?

Did she know of relatives?

Had she been orphaned?

Or did she know Elac’s family—could she show him the way home? ‘Is he some sort of rich prince?’ Didn’t all those without family dream of being someone important? The way the woman held herself, it seemed quite possible that if Elac was tied to her, then he could be important.

It was a thought she dismissed as it lingered on turning selfish, and instead she brought light to her green eyes as Elac turned back around to the group and the conversation, which he didn’t allow to linger on the woman. Erin almost huffed with frustration at his inability to pursue this important subject, but didn’t. She followed along, dutifully waving away tension and potential faux pas with silver linings or secondary interpretations.

The priest had drunk enough to want to share his opinions, after all. Though most present were devout, there were never two people in one room that shared the same opinions on faith, inspiration, and especially, art. So the conversation went to art, and of course, to Layton who was to be the inspiration to all—in the arts and in the sciences.

Mina Tessmien was still near him then. “We should find out if he does want to commission something, shouldn’t we?” A glance to the priest, “He may not want a picture of himself. He might be more interested in something astronomical, considering his work.” She wanted to go over there. She wanted to help Elac get over there.

~***~

Mina had meant only to stand back and listen, to wait for when Constantine would want her. It took little effort on her part, so she heard the approach of Doan as she felt the eyes of Elac fall upon her constantly. Layton and Constantine were quick to fall into conversation, a lively discussion of the future and what Layton could do—with not so subtle mentions of how to market it.

Her head remained pointed towards Constantine and Layton, but Doan’s words were heard. Everything about them suggested he knew far more than he ought to know, but then, wasn’t that what the Edner were good at? She knew their reputation. This was not how one spoke to the inferior. Edner recognized where she stood compared to Constantine, and she could act dumb, but….

‘There’s hardly any time left.’


So a gleam of truth shone in her dark eyes as her lips twisted up, just a little, in an uncharacteristic grin. “Why, Edner, if I tell you now it’ll spoil the surprise. You’ll know before the night is done.”

And Constantine turned then with an inviting, “And you’ve met Mina, haven’t you, Layton?” and Mina stepped into the opened arm, letting herself be taken and pulled close. That cunning smile was gone, replaced with something bashful. Her eyes lowered demurely.

“Oh, a time or two,”
Layton chuckled, “How are you tonight?”

“Well, thank you. Congratulations on your success,”
she offered, “Constantine has been raving, you would think it were his own triumph.”

Layton’s smile widened a touch and Mina held out her hand, palm down, and he took it, resting his hand atop hers as he recognized the imploring gesture, “Won’t you let him make the toast tonight? I promise you I have an addition to it myself.”

“Oh?”


Mina smiled, “Just a stupid little magic trick, but I think it will help men like Edner understand how energy works a bit better,” her jest, as she looked back to bring Doan into the conversation, if he wanted to join.

“Well,”
Layton squeezed her hand, “How could I possibly refuse such an introduction?”


103
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Monster-of-the-Week [Closed]
« on: March 22, 2016, 12:29:24 am »
The green truck was waiting for her, ruined though it was, and Artemis hopped into the driver’s seat, imagining she’d never hear from Seth again. ‘Even so.’ She took the phone into her hands again and dialed Johnny, pleased her cover had protected the phone from the fire.

“What?”


Johnny was so not happy with her, “Found another Game of Thrones fan. He seems to think I’m a wolf. His name’s Seth. He might be joining us.” Artemis keyed the ignition, “He may or may not be the heir to a fortune, and may or may not have seen the Yuki-Onna.”

“Did you finish that already?”


“Of course I did. Checking myself into the hospital now. Burns.”


“God dam—I’ll meet you there.”

Artemis heard him hang up, and she followed suit, driving off to get to the hospital and thinking of how she might explain why she was so injured. ‘Well I suppose I don’t have to explain.’ Lies swam through her head as the radio played her favorite jams all the way back to the hospital. It was evening by then, dusk painting the sky and casting a glow over the hospital.

People moved to and fro. There were nurses outside with cigarettes and coffee. Artemis drove by them on her way to the patient’s parking, and then stepped out, bundling the stolen jacket closer around herself as she walked on unsteady feet towards the doors.

“You’re Artemis.”


Artemis looked immediately to her left for the source of the voice, and found it in a woman sitting upon the bricks that lined the path to the hospital. “Forgive me for being abrupt. I’ve been waiting a while for you.” The woman slid off her perch, landing neatly on her heels. No doubt, she was wearing a dress beneath her peacoat, but the coat covered it completely as she looked up to meet Artemis’s gaze, gray eyes calm.

“Do I know you?”


“No,”
the platinum blonde woman answered, shaking her head, “Anthony mentioned you while he was awake—I’m sorry, by the way. He is going to need to sleep for a while. I did what I could,” Artemis’s eyebrows started to knit together, worry and anger rising, “Where did you go today? What creature?”

“Are you a hunter?”


“No,” the woman denied.

“Then I don’t need to tell you anything.”


“No,” she agreed, “but I’ll tell you what I did to Anthony if you tell me.”

“You’ll tell me—”
she reached for a gun that wasn’t there, left in the truck because the hospital didn’t require them. Embarrassment tinted her cheeks.

The woman gave her an unreadable smile. “If I tell you first, will you tell me?”

“Maybe.”


“I need a yes.”


“Yes!”


“Enochian magic. He’s going to live. He wasn’t going to earlier. You won’t see the markings on him.”


‘Enochian? But—’
“How do you know Enochian?”


“Mm. What were you hunting?”


“A Yuki-Onna! Who are you?”


The woman shook her head. She looked disappointed, “Sorry. You only get one question. You wanted to know what I did to Anthony, so I told you. When he wakes up, he has my name.”

“Hey, that’s—”
as Artemis moved to follow, a Rottweiler leapt into her path and gave her a daring glare, a low growl escaping it, before it turned to follow after the woman in the dark coat. Artemis paused, noticing first the glow around the dog’s collar, and then a feather in the woman’s hands.

A cloud passed over the sun, shade falling and darkening the area.

And then, the woman was gone, the ashes of the feather blowing away.

Artemis turned and walked on towards the hospital doors, bewildered but mute. Johnny was there, and he immediately got her checked into the same room as Anthony, where her burns were treated and she was able to see how calmly Anthony was resting now.

Johnny ranted for a while, as Artemis resisted the drugs supposed to put her to sleep. “Hey, Johnny. There any ghost stories about this hospital?”

“Huh?”

“Or black dog stories?”


“Not that I know of. Why?” 


“Hm. I think I saw one…,”
but then, she drifted off, and on waking she’d think it just a trick of the drugs in the first place. It was too odd to be anything else, even in her line of work.


104
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 20, 2016, 09:24:31 pm »
Mina Tessmien knew it when her eyes met his, the purple hues not quite identical, but close. His hair, too, was that purple shade, contrasting his own paleness quite beautifully. Yet, their facial structure was similar, and there was something to his pale skin that made her think of a face she knew only from pictures.

Mina took the hand, warm but not soft. He worked with his hands, or so it seemed, “You’re welcome, Mr. Tessmien,” she said it with just the faintest indication that it was a joke. Her lips lifted a bit as she said, “I see now why your friend reacted so obviously to my name. I am Mina Tessmien,”

Was this, then, the twin she was supposed to have? The humming beneath her skin seemed to suggest so, as she left those faint moons on the back of Elac’s hand before withdrawing hers, “What a coincidence,” she mused, “I’ve never met another,” not even her parents. She’d been denied knowing them, and separated from her sibling. She had wondered if they would ever meet, and then…would they know each other?

Yet, he held onto the surname. Somehow, that had survived whatever transitions happened in his life.

What a story it would be.

If only she had the time. A woman spoke behind Elac, noting it. They all did. Erin leaned back towards the woman to say, “Of course. And her name…,” it was eerie.

“We will have to talk more, Mr. Tessmien. I’m afraid I must return to my own group, however.”
And so she turned from him, noting then that they were the same height.

As she walked away, Erin stepped forward and put a hand on Elac’s shoulder. She let it lie there for a moment to ask. “Do you think, maybe…?” Erin couldn’t say it all. Her hand slipped from his shoulder to steal a tart from the plate.

She knew of her friend’s longing for family, but was this even possible, this woman who seemed so…foreign…could be related to her Elac? The woman didn’t seem to fit at all. Despite looking the part of everyone in the room, Erin still got the terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that she didn’t belong here. She wasn’t sure she belonged anywhere. It was a terrible thought and Erin knew it, but she could not stop it from occurring all the same. The woman had done nothing to inspire these wretched thoughts, after all.


Mina returned to the waiter, who had the drinks ready, and she easily took both of them and then located Constantine and Doan. If she knew what Doan drank, she’d bring him something just to rattle Constantine, but she did not. ‘That does not mean others don’t.’ She took a glance to the waiter. “You must know Doan.” Who didn’t know him? “What is it he drinks?”

And soon enough, the waiter was handing her a beverage with promises it would be something to the liking of the young man.

~***~

Layton was of course mobbed, so getting to him would take a bit of time. Constantine could endure Doan for it, though, especially with a sweeter topic to consider. His little bird. His eyes shifted to where she had gone to see her holding a drink and walking with a woman who stood out, but for all the wrong reasons. His chuckled a bit at the query, “Not quite smitten,” no, he’d never admit to being under anyone’s influence, “But I would like to keep her.”

Better to control than be controlled. He knew Mina moved on to others, and that didn’t matter—so long as he was the last. “I don’t suppose you know her well, do you?” He considered that for a moment, wondering if he had been one of those ensnared by her once upon a time. He had known her name. It was possible he simply knew of her, as it seemed many did.

Well, they all ran in the same circles.

As Doan would finish answering, Mina would rejoin them. If she heard the topic, she made no indication of it as she passed to Constantine his pink drink, and then offered one to Doan under the scrutinizing gaze of Constantine, “The waiter thought you would like this, Edner,” she spoke at a distance for the sake of Constantine, and before he could comment, she took Constantine’s hand, “This way,” and with a slight pull (and a push others wouldn’t see, the blood beneath her skin rolling faster to make that invisible pressure appear), there was a path to Layton that Mina stepped into, making it so Constantine could be at his left when he turned his head.

And Mina fell back to be a step behind, so that Constantine was all he saw for the moment.


105
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 20, 2016, 06:05:12 pm »
“I’ll find something just like that for you!” Erin promised, even though she was not certain how easy it would be. Would things be labeled? Well, no point in wondering. She waved him off and gave a quick wave to the circle of friends, before spinning on her short heels and walking quickly towards the table that was laden with treats.

‘Well, they do have tarts.’
She scowled down at her options. Nothing was labeled. Why would it be labeled? Her eyes flickered to the glistening crystal cups with their many drinks. Those were labeled, the bottles near them, and there were men and women in white blouses serving the drinks. ‘Ah!’ Erin took up a couple of the tarts, gooseberry, and then approached one of the servers, “Excuse me,” she said.

His eyes fell upon her, and a smile came to his lips, “How many I help you, Ms….,” he realized then he didn’t know who she was, and he looked appropriately flustered, “F-Forgive me, I—”

“I haven’t been here before,”
she said to ease his embarrassment, “I just need to know a drink that would pair good with these tarts.” She imagined that something which paired well with the gooseberry would work nicely for the taste that Elac sought.

The waiter eyed the tarts, then glanced down at his selections. “This rosé should work. It’ll be sweet, but it is a young wine, so it will also be a bit…tart,” he couldn’t help but smile a bit at the fact he was pairing a tart wine with a tart dessert.

“Oh good! I’ll need two cups, please.”
She took a glance back to see Donair raising a glass, and nodded, “Two,” to her own assessment.

Two glasses were poured, and one after the other was handed to Erin. She struggled a bit, with the plate, a glass, and then another. In fact, she dropped the second glass, but before so much as a strangled cry could escape her, it was caught.

Black nails and long fingers wrapped around the clear cup, saving all of the wine. Erin took a step back to offer room, and then lifted her gaze as the woman of earlier straightened up. Her free hand brushed back a few stray locks of white hair.

For a moment, Erin was captivated by those dark eyes, before realizing she’d seen them before. In fact, “Thanks, El—er, sorry. You look just like a friend,” yet creepy. And female. Very clearly female. Her eyes had been drawn momentarily to the locket over her chest before she realized where she was staring and again averted her gaze up.

“You’re welcome,”
she said, “Do you need assistance getting these back to your friend?” She inquired.

“I—it’s—,”
it was hard for Erin to say ‘no’, “If it’s really no trouble.”

The strange woman nodded, and glanced to the waiter, “I will need one cup of the same rosé,” Constantine tried to like wine. He didn’t. He needed the youngest sorts, and never a white wine. “and one glass of any syrah that you have, or the closest thing to it. I will be back shortly.”

She simply wanted a closer look at the friend of the wildflower, and here was the easiest way to gain that.

“Right away, Ms. Tessmien.”


Erin nearly tripped over her own feet at the name, but kept herself upright. “Tessmien?” She asked.

“Yes. Mina Tessmien.”


“Oh. Okay.”
She hadn’t heard it wrong. She had meant to ask if she had relatives, but a sudden and sharp sense of hurt stole over her first. Had Elac hidden his family from her? Was it mere coincidence?

Either way, some of her bubbliness faded as she approached the group. She smiled for them, of course, “I think I found a good one. And these!” She tried to offer to Elac one of the tarts, while the woman held out the wine.

“Your friend just had a bit of trouble with carrying it all,”
Erin heard Mina speak, as if she did not know Elac at all.

‘Coincidence. It must be coincidence.’
But seeing them…

~***~

Constantine looked over the younger Edner, a man he considered something of a rival, when he let insecurities feed him at night. Doan Edner and his family were infamous for recognizing talent and reaping the rewards of their patronage. Constantine wondered now if this one was going to try and steal Layton from him, when he’d worked so hard to get into those good graces.

Even so, he faked niceties, “Doan,” he greeted as he took the proffered hand and shook.

One was then offered to Mina, and the fair woman reached for it and shook, grip light, though her nails dug in. One could take it for an accident; they were long, and no doubt, she forgot that at times. It wasn’t an accident, of course. She smiled, and she nodded, rather than repeat the name Constantine had spoken. Doan Edner stood out with his flower, but other than that, he blended in perfectly with the rest of the sycophants.

She’d known him through other relationships. It was always this way—his business always with the men. She’d be the dutiful wallflower, withdrawing her hand and letting her smile widen a touch at his joke.

Constantine shook his head, and his joke was less pleasant, “Don’t tell me an Edner doesn’t understand Layton’s words?” He looked amused, but it was a malevolent amusement. “We were just on our way to greet the man of the hour. Would you like to join us? He may be able to help you understand the basics of thermodynamic theory.” It was more that Constantine wanted to show himself as better than Edner before Layton.

Then he wouldn’t lose his own horse.

Mina touched his arm, and he gave her the barest of acknowledgements as she stepped around him and moved towards the drinks and foods, without so much as asking what he’d want. She knew, of course, and she’d know how to find him when he was done with his petty bickering and machismo.

Besides, she had her eyes on the pretty wildflower that stood out in the garden of roses.

106
Freestyle Roleplay / Entropy [Closed]
« on: March 20, 2016, 03:28:32 am »
“Wow.”

It was the single syllable that could describe the entire scene before Erin Pierce, as she looked back briefly at the marble steps she’d just walked up to get into the gala.

The gala itself was huge, with a domed ceiling and obvious arches. Above them, the rain played on the windows, and an occasional burst of lightning illuminated the already-bright room, lit by glittering candles on each wall. The substance wouldn’t burn out, the flame eternal until doused. The wax never got shorter, nor did the wick.

Erin kept close to her companion, invited supposedly because he might be hired to do a portrait of the man who had risen up in the world. Erin knew better—the auburn haired girl of 23 years knew her friend was mostly beloved for his company, and he’d made plenty of friends through his life. They had invited him, and she latched on when he mentioned not having a date.

How could she resist a chance at this lux, just once? Given, she felt that she stood out in her cheap heels and short, Prom-ish green dress. It fell to her knees, just belling out a little. A black satin belt was around her waist and tied in a pretty bow, which she incorporated into her hair as a pretty black satin bow that held her red hair up.

Compared to everyone else, though…all the women in their long gowns, with their slender forms and perfect make-up, she felt quite inadequate. Not to mention they all seemed to have flawless skin; her face was speckled with freckles. Her eyes were even speckled, a green color that seemed flecked with gold.

However, that feeling faded when she looked around and let herself be overwhelmed by the technology in the building, the scents of foods, and the hum of strings. “They have a live orchestra!” It was small, but it was impressive to her, even though no one present seemed to be giving the musicians the time of day. The food table was attended, at least, with people moving about as they liked to grab whatever interested them.

“Now where are your friends,”
she mused, thinking she’d find them and then go get herself and her own friend a drink. As she skimmed the room, her eyes briefly fell upon a woman who looked familiar. She paused in her walking, and looked around her friend. “Hum,” the familiarity seemed to be with her friend, as she took a glance at his face and then looked back to the woman.

Only to find her staring back.

Erin shrunk back around the body of her friend. ‘Creepy.’ Something in the eyes, or the way her skin seemed colored, something was…wrong. “Oh, there they are,” Erin took solace in the fact her shrinking away had let her see where their group of friends were. “I’ll go get us something to drink. What would you like?” She asked, bouncing back on her feet and trying to pretend she had good balance on her heels when, of course, she didn’t.

Her job didn’t require looking pretty or wearing heels.

She waited on her friend’s answer. Once she had it, she would dash off to the food table to get drinks, and perhaps a few of the hors d’oeuvres for them to snack on.

~***~

“You look beautiful.”


It seemed to be the only compliment that the man in the dark suit was capable of, but it was the only compliment that the woman needed him to be capable of. He wrapped an arm around her waist, covered by a dark purple fabric that matched his tie, and brought out the color of her own, purple eyes. He stared at her through the mirror, his face besides hers, and a lazy smile on his lips.

She stared back, admittedly pleased with the way she had pulled it all together. Naturally pale, the dark colors contrasted beautifully with her skin. Not only that, the glint of gold in the fabric played with the pearl sheen of her skin—she knew she was not fully human. Most weren’t quite sure. What they knew, was that she was abnormal. She wasn’t albino, but her hair was white, her eyes violet, and her skin as pale as if she were. It had a sheen to it that defied human understanding, but it was so subtle that most just rolled with it. Accepted it.

That day, she played it up. Her skin sparkled from added make-up, and around the left eye there was an elaborate design, akin to butterfly’s wing, that glittered gold, black, and purple. Her lips were stained burgundy, and her hair was up. It was done so that some of it still fell down her back, and metal and crystal trinkets jingled from the hair sticks and down into the fall of white hair.

Yes, she was beautiful in her flats so she wouldn’t be taller than her date. Beautiful, with the revealed tattoo on her back of a thorny vine that spiraled around to bloom a rose over her heart—that was unseen, of course. Beautiful, with black nails.

Beautiful, with a locket that held a small piece of paper wrapped around a crystal. ‘Tonight.’

“Are you ready to go now?”
Her most recent patron and paramour asked, and she softly smiled into the mirror.

“Yes,”
she answered, and moved as he did, rising and then stepping under his arm, and stepping with him. His long strides were easy to match, and each long step revealed her legs beneath the dark fabric. The slit up the right side was generous, and for that reason the woman thought it such a pity she didn’t get to wear heels. No matter; she’d feed the ego of this one as much as necessary.

He wouldn’t be alive much longer, anyway. ‘Just one more hour.’ She thought as they stepped out into the lighted city. Halos bloomed around many of them, for the rain that fell was misty. Neither bothered with a coat or an umbrella, though. Their destination was not far.

“What is it that Professor Layton is celebrating?”
the woman asked as they walked to the gala with its marble steps. She hadn’t forgotten.

“His new employment. He won’t have to teach anymore at the rubbish university, and good riddance,”
the man huffed as he stepped up towards the double doors, “His time was wasted there. He’ll be put full-time to researching now. He might finally figure out the key to stopping the atrophy of the universe.”

“Atrophy of the universe?”
He was saying it wrong. He meant ‘entropy’. She did not correct him.

As if that were the thing to worry about, but her current paramour was obsessed with theories of energy, and she had needed that. It had been the final key to her own work.

“Heat death of the universe. It’s part of a theory of thermodynamics…,”
he started to talk, and the woman knew he’d go on endlessly about this theory without noticing much of what she did. So, as the double doors opened before them, she took to glancing around. They were not the first. They were likely not the last. There were plenty of figures she’d seen before. They all ran in the same circles, even if she was an ‘outsider’.

Sure, she had the money now.

She had the degrees.

She even had the looks.

That meant little since she did not seem to have the blood nor ambition. Not to mention, too many in these circles knew where she began, as an oddity among other oddities. Unlike bearded women, though, her oddities weren't considered grotesque. It made her 'less', like a scuffed limited edition statue--but still, limited edition.

She ran with it.

“…it shouldn’t happen in our time, but we must consider future generations.”
Actually he just wanted to have more access to more energy, so he could find a way to capture it and market it. “Possibly our generations, Mina.”

She blinked and looked away from the crowd, from a particularly strange individual and a woman in a short, green dress. The shock on her face was sincere, and he smiled at it, “I’ve been considering it.”

This was a point where she was supposed to act happy, wasn’t it? It was a queer way to propose, “We’re not even engaged, Constantine.” Nor did she want to be. Before he could say more, she lifted a single finger to his lips and held it there with a light press, “Later. Let’s enjoy this party and then we can discuss our future,” or hers. She let her expression offer him hope, as if there would be a future to discuss, though. “Come, let’s go see Professor Layton first. We need to make sure you get to speak, so everyone sees you.”

And by default, her. She’d steal his thunder. She already had plans, and she turned from him to look into the crowd again. She knew where Layton was, but pretended to look.

She let Constantine find him, and again they linked up, and he walked to where Layton was, with his other admirers who wanted to fund the directions of his research now that he was free from the university that had held him captive.

107
Hype / Re: Thinking of You
« on: March 16, 2016, 01:42:52 am »
Adding to this, I saw this trailer today and made it me think of our one and only Pere:

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

I don't know how Pere chose her name for here, but I always think of her when I hear of this series. I didn't know there was going to be a movie based on it ^-^

108
Hype / Re: Thinking of You
« on: March 15, 2016, 08:36:10 pm »
I honestly can't tell you how many times that picture has been sent to me...

Today's the Ides, too, isn't it? No wonder I got sick.

-hides in blanket fort away from conspirators-

109
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: Star Wars: Rise of the Sith [Closed]
« on: March 15, 2016, 12:10:43 am »
The ground was rough and ragged, but it was better than having the life squeezed out of her. Dawn grasped at the Force, but still went to the ground, but not far. She inhaled deeply before reacting quickly and jumping back to her feet, bringing her purple saber right back into her hand. ‘It isn’t far, the other—’ Dawn turned. She could still sense where Dreven had been taken, her kyber crystal calling out to her, and she nearly took off running.

However, she was distracted by the call of the local authorities. “You idiots, back—” one leveled a blaster at her. “I dare you.”

She didn’t need to dare him. Their distraction with her and Manx proved their downfall as Buun grasped at the Force and electrocuted them.

Rage.

Fear.

Hatred.

All of these colored Dawn’s emotions, and she knew that was bad, but they pulsed in her control. She did not spark with the electricity any longer, nor did the sand move against her will now. She was calm, in spite of it.

A threat was made. Dreven’s life was in the balance. “Dreven can defend himself,” Dawn spoke coolly, “If not, that’s the way it has to be, and you know it, Manx.”

But Dawn could feel him wavering. “We don’t negotiate with the Sith.” Whatever they wanted, they could not have. Dawn would kill Tita before she’d let her fall into the hands of the Sith.

“The infant for Dreven, or nothing at all.”
Manx countered, and Dawn’s jaw nearly dropped. Manx’s green eyes were steady on the Sith, though.

His thoughts were on only saving Dreven. The child could be reclaimed with force, and she was too young to truly be influenced by all of this violence. Dreven, though…with his nature, Manx couldn’t risk him falling into the wrong hands.

Dawn took a deep breath. She was prepared for the denial of Buun, prepared to try and run to get Dreven, though it would certainly be too late by then. ‘No. Dreven’s awake now. He can use the Force. He’d only need to buy me a second or two…damn it, Manx. The Sith is weak now, we have a chance, both of us….’

Her anger remained checked. She bit down on the inside of her cheek. She waited, the adrenaline still winding in her veins and preventing her from feeling the true agony of her wounds.


110
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Glass Shards [Closed]
« on: March 13, 2016, 07:05:23 pm »
It was an appropriately rainy day when Seren Vesper ventured out to the cemetery with her tombstone. It was odd seeing it, and wondering if her body was under there, rotting. She didn’t know. Arjuna hadn’t known, but he knew it was there. Whether or not it was placed by Karna or Vastien was also a mystery.

Seren sat before it with Baali’s head resting in her lap, idly stroking the dog’s fur. ‘Sighisoara.’ That was her next destination. Arjuna said it was unlikely she would find Vastien there. The tavern was destroyed ages ago, after all, but it was still the next step. ‘Besides, I know someone there.’

A very old family friend. Whether or not he’d recognize her was the problem. Whether or not he’d still be alive…but he was a vampire. He should still be alive.

‘But with my luck, he will not be.’


She had hoped to find a Reaper here, but there was none. That, or she could no longer see them. She was starting to suspect the latter. She had been in plenty of environments where she should have seen them, but never could. ‘Perhaps it was just the arrangement with Vastien that gave me such a sight.’ The idle stroking of Baali’s thin fur continued as she let out a sigh. “Dead,” she mused aloud. “Dead and rotting, or cremated…I suppose the body doesn’t matter at all, does it?”

Yet she’d been so attached to it. She still hated looking in the mirror and seeing gray eyes rather than green. She hated how light her hair was. The golden locks were in her memory, but in the mirror all she saw was platinum. She was taller. ‘Stronger.’ That, too. She hadn’t lived the pampered life of an heir this time around, and still could not.

The Agni would support some of her endeavors, but she needed to start earning money on her own. ‘Barely know where to begin.’

Well, that wasn’t true. She had plenty of ideas of where to begin. The problem was starting and not failing. One thing hadn’t changed: Seren hated failure.

So it was that the next day she was on a plane to Sighisoara, and arrived at night. She had planned to immediately head to the address she had, but she was halted by a familiar face with a sign that simply said: ‘Vesper’.

“Lord Florin?”


He eyed her as she addressed him, seeming hardly satisfied with what he saw. “You?”

Seren crossed her arms over her chest, but before she could comment, Lord Drago Florin continued, “When the Agni told me you were still alive I laughed them off the phone. Still, I had to see. You claim to be Vesper?”

“I am Seren Vesper.”


He still did not seem impressed, but he let the sigh drop and he callously grabbed her arm and pulled. Seren didn’t stand a chance of resisting. He had all the strength of a vampire, and all the years he had been one. She stumbled the first few steps before managing to watch her pace so she fell in step with him. She didn’t speak, not until he dragged her into one of the family restrooms, “What exactly—”

Fangs to wrist. Seren bit down on an outcry and stamped her foot instead. ‘They don’t draw only blood,’ she was reminded of it when he shoved her wrist away and wiped the back of his hand by his lips. His expression was shaken out of its poker face; there was a dawning understanding.

“Do I taste like Demetri?”
She asked spitefully, knowing that he’d fed on him whenever he visited. It was the only safe way.

“Yes,”
he sounded surprised. “I always wondered about the soul or genetics, but now…,” he knew it was the soul that flavored, and Seren’s soul was the Vesper soul. He had tasted it, and seen her memories. He saw none of this life. Only of Seren. He’d have to drink deeper to get the ‘new’ memories. “How…how is it possible?” Jealousy tinted his tone. This was a new form of immortality and he didn’t like how free it was.

“I’m here to figure that out. I’m looking for Vastien Ba’al. He ran a tavern here.”


As she relayed the story and told him the name of the tavern, his expression darkened. He'd heard of it. He hadn't cared about it, except to know it was full of hunters. He thought the owner a hunter, too, and only that. He'd occasionally send a spy or two of his own to make sure no one was conspiring against him. He tried to play by the rules, but he knew those didn't matter much anymore. The English Guilds weren't around. The Indian ones tried to keep order, but they didn't have a great presence in Romania.

"Seren,"
he said, "That tavern isn't here any longer."

"I know that. I need to see where it was. What replaced it. I need to find the owner. He knows why I'm here."



111
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: Star Wars: Rise of the Sith [Closed]
« on: March 11, 2016, 01:37:12 am »
Dawn wasn’t quick enough. Her efforts were in vain, as Arcan drew distance from her before she could catch up—she could have, but she was brought to a sudden halt as the grip of the Force wrapped around her throat and held her in place.

There was no pushing through that. Dawn fought in place, trying to reach her own energies up, to put the Force between the chokehold. She’d trained with this, but Buun’s ability was beyond what she’d trained against. Her focus was faltering under the pain. A last ditch resort sprung to mind—Dawn lifted her left hand, and threw the lightsaber at the back of Arcan’s head, using the Force to guide it momentarily.

A blaster shot grazed just under her arm due to that, but the brunt of the shot by Ayla continued on beyond Dawn.

The lightsaber in her right hand dropped and both of her hands lifted in response to the invisible pressure on her neck. Emotions started to spill out. Lightning crackled at her fingertips and the sand moved around her ankles as her mind fought for a spark of inspiration, for an escape—for life.

‘THINK!’


There was a moment’s loosening in the struggle as she heard the explosion, and fear spiked, fueling her own powers for just a second. Then, it was gone, the lucidity fading with the lack of direction, and the grip tightened again against her throat.

“DAWN!”
Manx’s voice.

Manx had rushed out of the home once the Rodian was gone, exploded. He left through the hole, infant clutched gently against his own chest. He didn’t see where Dreven was, and that only worried him more. He couldn’t fight with a lightsaber with the child, so he tried the same cheap trick he’d tried with the Rodian bounty hunter—he tried to use the Force to push at the Sith, to disrupt his focus and give Dawn a moment to regain herself.

They were going to have to run. Manx hated that thought, but it was the truth—they had to flee, and they had to report to the Jedi back on Tython.


112
Hype / Re: Spread the Sunshine- Random good news
« on: March 10, 2016, 11:47:12 pm »
Bit late on the Pokemon thing ~_^

But congratulations on the marriage! I hope the day is wonderful for the both of you, and I'm glad for the good news from ya! I also hope the new apartment works out. How exciting for ya, two major events so soon!

113
Hype / Re: Spread the Sunshine- Random good news
« on: March 10, 2016, 10:10:56 pm »
“That’s not what’s supposed to happen when you quit a job, Krystal.”

People haven’t posted here in a while, so I thought I would since I have a slew of good news.

1.   Quit my job, last day was yesterday. Got a call from the woman who had originally been running the project this morning, and she offered me a job on her team of 3. It’s a promotion, higher pay, no regular overtime (I was putting in on average 5-6 hours every week with other job), full benefits. Me, a lowly temp before—not sure what I did to impress her to get this offer, but I’m feeling pretty smug. This is how smug:

Formation (Rap/Hip-Hop Warning)

2.   Naka-Kon, the anime convention, is this weekend. Vergil costume is already finished and I am ready.
3.   My new go-to for Cosplay Costumes is hyped to help me with General Hux and Kylo Ren—and Kylo Ren’s lightsaber is soon to be acquired, once the job is solidified (I have the money for it in savings).
4.   Next week is birthday!
5.   Got my nails done for the first time in a couple of years. They look gorgeous. They’re designed to go with Vergil’s coat (see: Nails Pic )
6. Finally growing hair out again. I feel I've got a handle on it now.
 

114
Modern/Futuristic Roleplay / Re: Monster-of-the-Week [Closed]
« on: March 10, 2016, 03:51:51 pm »
Seth just had to quote Game of Thrones, didn’t he? Artemis put on a disapproving look, as she’d done whenever Johnny quoted it, but let him finish speaking. ‘I am hardly House Stark.’ The wolves were not wolves, they were sheep to the slaughter. “Johnny is going to love you…,” she muttered.

He spoke of his discipline, while getting intoxicated. He spoke of the demons of the 1800s, which did cause her to arch an eyebrow. She held the shot he handed her, but this time, she didn’t shoot it. She set it aside. He seemed to be getting lost in his own intoxication and desire to join the fight.

She walked towards him on the bed, scooping up his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders, putting the cash within, “I’m taking this,” she told him as she put a hand on his shoulder. Her other had found a phone within the suit’s pocket, and in front of him, she added her number, “Listen. You’re drunk and you’re angry. So, you’re going to take a nap. When you wake up, hungover, if you’re still interested, call me.”

She dialed her number so it’d be apparent it worked. A few chords of Bad Company played before she ceased dialing and dropped the phone in his lap. “I won’t be far from here, just a couple hours. Gotta get checked in at a hospital.” The same one Anthony was at. She could stay closer, but they dealt with this one frequently enough. “All right?”


115
Fan-Based Roleplay / Re: Star Wars: Rise of the Sith [Closed]
« on: March 09, 2016, 05:26:39 am »
Dawn’s blows struck, and she spun immediately away to pursue the runner. She nearly ran into a blast, and was struck by some of the debris the shot made, but she had seen it—she stepped to the side to get out of its way in the first place, and kept running, knowing she could gain on them. She just had to push the Force through herself, and—

‘Shit.’


Dawn really should have seen it coming, but she noticed only after Buun foolishly announced his attack. She had expected him to stay down longer.

The debris already in the air from the gun blast aided, moving at Dawn’s command to protect her. Lightning struck and broke rocks, pushed through the wave of sand, weakened by the debris but still potent. Dawn weighed the odds; there was no avoiding the lightning. Yet, she was not letting Dreven get away.

‘Bear it.’


The Jedi were masters of control. The lightning danced over her, marking her flesh with the burns—indeed, she burned as Buun wanted, and with each agony that lanced through her body, she felt anger, but it was kept within, kept impotent, except to fuel her single-focus.

Dreven.

Burnt and bleeding, Dawn pushed the sand and debris that had acted as her shield forward to trip up Arcan, intending to get him to fall so the chase would cease. If she was successful at making him fall, she’d then bring him to a quick end by lopping his head off, before letting her attention return to the Sith, who would no doubt be all the more angry for the fact he was ignored, and his attack seemed to be just shaken off.

In truth, there were physical signs of its effects. Dawn was not moving as fast, which played a role in her decision to trip up Arcan, and the grip she had on the left-handed lightsaber was slipping, shaking, from the wounds and the aftershocks of the lightning.

~***~

Manx was about to speak another command, and had even opened his mouth to do so. However, the bounty hunter before him had other plans and pressed down on the button before he could. ‘Of course.’ Manx wrinkled his nose in disgust as the slow beeping signaled the change.

Tita’s mother let out a horrified scream, and Manx raised his free hand. “Sorry.”

The Force Push was one of the easiest skills to master, and Manx intended to simply push the foolish bounty hunter far back, so he would explode without causing harm. Manx did not prepare himself for an alternative. He’d suffer the consequences if his plan failed, but he did not let himself think that it could.

He would not be distracted.

~***~

“I understand,”
Master Ergas inclined his head as Alec seemed to let the weight of it rest upon him. The cerean rose, “I shall see you again soon. Take the time that you need to center yourself,” with that, the Jedi Master walked to the door, and let himself out, taking a deep breath once it was done.

He had been foolishly afraid that Master Alec would try to derail or stop this. Yet, a part of him had worried that Alec would overreact and try to halt this all together. He could only shake his head and smile a bit at what now seemed such a foolish thing.

Yet, Alec and Dawn had been close. ‘He is a Jedi Master.’ Attachment would always be forsaken for the Jedi. Even Alec knew that.

And so, Ergas left Alec none-the-wiser, to inform the others of the quorum and Alec’s planned attendance. 


116
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Glass Shards [Closed]
« on: March 03, 2016, 02:21:17 am »
The Ganges River was a place of purity, or so the stories went. Seren looked upon the polluted river, and felt her heart twist into knots. There was a great power just beneath the filth. She could feel it pulsing, even from where she stood on the shore, but it had been so corrupted. Arjuna stood besides her, “They say it was once beautiful, mother to all. It fed us, and this is how we’ve repaid it.”

“Disgusting.”


Arjuna bowed his head. “I cannot control these things.”

“I know. I can feel it, though. It feels like holy water.”


Seren walked forward.

“Ah—I wouldn’t—”
not that Arjuna could stop her. Baali followed along at her heels, but stopped at the river’s edge, whining as Seren continued on, soaking her ankles, her knees, and eventually, going under completely.

It was a truly disgusting river, but Seren could feel so much more here. So much power. No priest needed to bless this water—it was pure, holy. It was a shame that humans did not take to the holy the way other things did. Yet, this water would be useful.

Seren knew she’d catch her death in the Ganges, and just as she planned to swim back up to break the surface, she felt someone grab her and pull her up. She didn’t fight it, and expected Arjuna when she opened her eyes. Instead, she saw a woman before her, someone in their 40s, who looked quizzically upon Seren once they were both above the water. “You’re human.”

“So are you,”
Seren pointed out.

The woman let her go, and stared at her for several long seconds, “You do not seem human.”

Before the conversation could go further, Arjuna had finally decided to jump into the water to get both of them, “Trishna, that is Seren Vesper! Seren Vesper, that is the leader of Amrita, Trishna Sitan.”

Trishna looked quite surprised by this, but then smiled, “That would explain why you appear so abnormal. Let us get you out of the water, it is not good for us, potent though it is.”

“What were you doing in the water?”


“I saw you,”
Trishna said as they swam back to the shore, “and I knew you were…knew you did not belong.” They pulled themselves onto the shore, clothes wet and dragging once they finally reached it. Seren shivered, but walked on, Baali quickly catching up with her and giving her a dirty look for her decision to go into the water.

“How do I look to you?”
Seren was curious. Others couldn’t tell just by sight.

“Like a Rakshasa. Your aura is polluted. Yet you were in the water as if it did not hurt you. I wanted to know how that could be. Now I know.”


Of course it made sense now. The Rakshasas were the demons of India, powerful creatures, but not always evil as Karna had said. Mostly. “You were the one who killed Kali, correct?”

“I played a hand.”

“And with Lucifer?”


“A hand.”

“You have tipped the balance violently,”
she sounded disapproving, and Arjuna quickly bore an expression that was urging her not to speak more, but she did, “You will have to fix it. That is why you did not get your wish, Vesper.”

“Really now?”
Seren arched an eyebrow. Ah, karma. “Trishna, that is your name?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t depend on others to fix your perceived problems.”

A laugh came from her, “Coming from the one who consorted with demons to fix her problems?”

“I enslaved a demon to my will,”
Seren corrected. It was in many ways the harsh reality; Vastien had been bound to her, and for a long while, she had not trusted him. “There is a difference. Until you can enslave me, fix your own problems. Kali and Lucifer have been dead for a century—you’ve had plenty of time to figure something out.”

Trishna looked as if she’d been slapped.

Arjuna moved between them, “Let’s not fight. We do not even know why Kali has not been reborn, or if Lucifer would be—”

“He wouldn’t. Angels don’t have souls.”

“The matter of Kali is beyond Seren.”

Seren shifted her gaze to him, arching a single eyebrow in an ‘oh really?’ gesture, but not commenting. “It is not why she is here, either. She is only here to figure out why she is back.”

“Karma. She wanted oblivion but she did not deserve it.”
Trishna stated, point blank.

“You want oblivion?”
Seren had to ask. She was the first to speak of oblivion as if it were not a bad thing.

“It is the goal of all Buddhists, it is our belief, that at the end there is nothing. It is the goal of Hindus, too, but they prefer to call it a reunion with the force of life, the creator of all—even though it is much the same, a loss of ego and thought.”

“It is not the same, you crave nothing, ignorantly, and we desire reunion and everything, for we are a part of everything.”


Seren couldn’t help but enjoy as the bickering became one of theological tenants. She patted her side, and Baali drew closer so she could scratch his head as she listened, and absorbed it all, walking through the streets and by so many small shrines and large temples.



117
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Glass Shards [Closed]
« on: March 03, 2016, 02:14:50 am »
A year did not pass before Seren had to leave the church she had started to call home. Her back was pressed to the wooden wall as she listened to the priest argue with a group of hunters over her presence. Again and again, she had heard the debates.

“This isn’t natural.”


Nothing about Seren had ever been natural.

“She made a deal with a demon. She’s corrupt.”


Of course she was.

“If she was brought back to life, there must be some nefarious purpose for her.”


Nefarious. She didn’t think hunters knew words that big—not in America, anyway.

“It is our duty to kill her.”


That was what it had started to boil down to, though the priest always argued on her behalf and tried to keep Seren in the dark, never aware that she was always listening. She knew how these went. Eventually, the violent side won.

So Seren was there when the gunshot finally rang clear, and the hunter let out a surprised, “Oh shit!” as he realized what he’d done. Seren pushed away from the wall she was leaning against then, and peered in as the hunters grew flustered with what they’d done—the priest was never their target, after all.

She memorize their faces, committed them to memory, and made a note to avenge the priest later.

Not then, no, not before she’d figured things out. Not before India.

Seren went to fetch Baali, who was waiting in her room, anxious, huge. Seren moved in silence and put the collar around Baali, though he was evidently irritated by it and the leash. “I know,” she murmured, “but the police don’t like you unleashed, and we haven’t the time to deal with it now.” The few things she needed were almost always packed, so she grabbed her bag, and with Baali, left through the window and ran off before the hunters ever went to go search for her.


She got lost in the city. She got lost on trains, through hotels, and every other means possible.

She started to go by the name Jeanne-Baptista Chanel, because only Vastien would be able to pick up on the joke if they crossed paths on Earth. If he found her trail.

When it finally came time to fly to India, she was using the name as if it were her own and had the identity established through some of the priest’s connections. The platinum hair that had been long was now cut short, and her attire could hardly be called that of a proper lady. 

When she arrived in India, she was not what the Agni guild was expecting, but the one waiting for her knew her all the same—a man with dark skin and golden-red hair, and heterochromatic eyes of hazel and blue. He waved immediately when he saw her, calling out: “Vesper!”

Seren approached him with a smile touching her lips, “Neveah?”

He offered his hand, and he had a familiar wicked smile as he introduced himself: “Arjuna Neveah. Karna Neveah was my grandfather.”

‘How time flies….’


“So, reincarnation is real. Huh.”
The man seemed a bit surprised by this. “Grandpa wasn’t so sure.” With her hand in his, he led her on to the luggage area, where her dog was making quite the fuss in his cage. Seren moved swiftly to retrieve him, noting how others seemed to be moving away and looking on with both fear and disgust.

“And some things never change,”
Seren muttered under her breath and cast a look to Arjuna, “Dogs are still not well-liked here?”

“No,”
he shook his head, and was mildly amused at the reaction as Seren took the dog out of its cage and quickly put the leash on his collar. “What is his name?”

“Baali,”
she answered, then snatched up her other piece of luggage, “Did Karna die…happy?”

“He died of cancer, sick and miserable and weak,”
the thought caused Seren to bite the inside of her cheek, “but he lived a good life. Come, I’ll tell you the story on the way,” as he led her out, there was a limo awaiting them, and he held the door open for Seren and slid in after her. “I think we all knew this wasn’t over. I don’t think any of us expected you to return, though.”

“Oh?”


Arjuna crossed his arms over his legs, clad in navy, and said: “It wasn’t just Lucifer you destroyed. You also took out Kali,” he reminded, “A new Kali had to be born, but…well, she hasn’t. The world is in an odd place. Reincarnation is happening…abnormally. You are a testament to that.”

“Please don’t tell me this has to do with more stars aligning and moon stuff.”
Arjuna bit his cheek quite obviously. “Oh for god’s sake.”

“Sorry.”


“Never mind that. Tell me about the Agni. Tell me of Karna. Tell me….”
A hesitation.

“Of Vassy?”


Seren’s eyes widened a bit, and then, she laughed, “Yes!” She was hopeful that if he knew the name, he knew something else.

“I know little, but he had a tavern in Europe.”
At her hopeful look, he reached across for her hand, “It was destroyed.” Her heart sank.

‘That explains it, though, doesn’t it?’


“When we heard you were alive, we thought he had been keeping your soul safe, but whatever happened to his location freed your soul. You were lucky.”


“I wanted to die. Lucky isn’t what I’d call this.”
Arjuna flushed, uncertain how to respond to that, so Seren waved it off, “Never mind. I am alive,” she offered no indication if it was what she wanted, if only to mess with the Indian man. “Tell me Agni’s origins.”

“Well, it begins with Karna, of course. He came here, in the late 1890s, with riches and books. He dedicated himself to the life of a Brahmin for a while—that is, a priest,” when Seren gave him an annoyed look for the clarification, he continued on without hesitation, “he devoted himself to Siva again, to Kali, but taught a message of unity of all faiths, of their intermingling. He married, he had children, and he showed us the miracles he’d seen in London, with you. He summoned our gods. He spoke with our gods.”

For several moments, Arjuna was silent as he recalled that. “He talked with angels, and with deities across the world. He traveled to meet them, and he recorded everything, adding them to the Vesper collection. He wouldn’t call it anything else—he said it was his way of honoring you. He dedicated himself to learning what your family and the English guilds had known, and he spread it across the world, but some, he kept just for us. Everything Enochian, he kept for us. Everything you personally penned, or anything your family penned, remained here.”

He continued, “He thought that India needed a group to protect itself, too. He spoke with other Bramins, and created a few guilds here, as in England. The Agni guild is just his family, the way the Vesper guild was just your family. There is also the Soma, the Amrita—”

A short laugh escaped Seren. “What?”

“The woman who tried to kill me with Kali was named Amrita. Continue.”


He gave a nod, “There is also the Dharma, and the Avatars. The Agni does it all, but the others are more divided. The Avatars and the Dharma, for example, travel the world to deal with problems. Right now, the Dharma are focusing on demon extermination since many rose up here after the war in Hell.”

“Are you tied to the government?”


He shook his head, “No. It is…problematic, but it is how it must be. It is how those like us operate world-wide, now. In America, they flee police and FBI alike. Here, we must also avoid the government. They are in denial, and none are willing to help. Even in England, they deny the guilds ever existed. They have erased Vesper from their records.” He could see the boiling rage in her eyes, “Did you not want to die? Did you not want oblivion?”

Seren bowed her head, “I did.” Oblivion for herself. Not her family.

“We remember. Every hunter knows your name.”


“I know. I met them. They tried to kill me in America.”


“What?”


“It doesn’t matter. I may need more information on those abroad, later. Right now, I’d…I would like to rest. I would like to see Karna’s writings, and the Ganges.”



118
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Glass Shards [Closed]
« on: March 03, 2016, 02:02:19 am »
The new body learned to mimic the old in the years Seren stayed at the orphanage, under the care of the priest. She learned to pray, and she tried to pray for Michael or for Gabriel, but her prayers were never answered. Neither came to see her, though she all but screamed for them and utilized her rituals. The priest was always fascinated by what she could do, and she started to write it all down again.

There were guilds in India, and the first, it seemed, was the ‘Agni’ guild. There was only one family in it, and its surname was ‘Neveah’. It sounded right enough to Seren, but she was not prepared to leave immediately. She wanted to use the time in the safety of the church to let her body learn what it had once known.

How to fight.

How to move.

How to be her, even in this strange new era. She taught her tongue proper pronunciations of Latin again, and read, likely hundreds of books, while she was there—including the ones from India that were duplicates of things she had written herself, and duplicates of things Karna went on to write later. She learned her life again and what followed, studied up on history, and laughed at the downfall of the guilds in England.

Her candy company was now known as Ferrero, after Noel’s family moved to escape England, and was inherited by them.

Then, there was all the new technology to learn how to master. Smartphones, airplanes, the internet—such a vast area of knowledge, the internet was!

“Seren.”


The teenager looked up from the bed she rested upon, reading through Wikipedia articles, to see the Father in the doorway with his hands behind his back. “I have something for you.”

She sat up, curious. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes,”
he said. She did so, and heard his steps approach. One of her hands was taken, and a box was placed into them. “Not yet,” he said as he saw her eyelids flutter open.

Something was put before her face. Hot breath fell over her, and then, something licked her. She opened her eyes immediately, to see a Rottweiler puppy in front of her. “PUPPY!” It was so uncharacteristic of her. The small box fell as she reached with both arms to pull the puppy into an embrace and hold it against herself. It immediately began to squirm, sharing in her excitement with a wagging bobbed tail and small yips and attempts to further lick her face.

“I thought you would like him.”

Seren immediately got up from the bed, puppy still pressed to herself, and threw one arm around the priest, squishing the puppy between them in a hug, though it didn’t seem to mind much at all. “Thank you!”

He smiled, “What will you call it?”

It was immediate. She could not call it Vastien, because she still believed she would see Vastien again soon, but she could call it: “Baali!” It was cute, with the ‘i’ ending, and it was akin to Vastien’s surname. Plus, it was associated with both God and demons, having been a former name for God before God himself revoked it.

“Open the box now, Seren.”


And so she did, setting the puppy down on her bed though it immediately ran to her to try and get affection again. She let one hand idly scratch its ears as she used the other to open the box. There was a single ticket there, for India, with the pet passage already paid for.

“Next year,”
the priest said, “The Agni guild is expecting you.”

 

119
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Glass Shards [Closed]
« on: March 03, 2016, 01:58:51 am »
No one could ever figure out what happened to Morgan and Derek. They found the child, wounded beneath the house, and sent her to a Catholic orphanage. Seren had laughed herself to sleep when she heard what was going to happen to her, but didn’t even waste her energy protesting it.

They introduced her as Margaret Fitzhugh.

Once again, she corrected them. For as long as the social workers were there, they called her Margaret, but once they were gone, something interesting happened.

“Seren Vesper,”
the priest said, before he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “If anyone was going to come back, it would be you.”

Now it was Seren’s turn to be surprised. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I know of you,”
he motioned for her to take a seat, and she did, staring at him from across the wooden desk. “I work with a group of hunters here in the States, dealing with demons. We’re not as…organized as your guilds,” he chuckled, “But we try. Your name’s come up a few times.” She arched an eyebrow. “Rumor has it, you helped defeat Lucifer.”

“I did,”
she wouldn’t deny it. “But…you believe me?” It was just so surprising, it was hard to wrap her head around it.

“Should I not? Your file indicates you’ve been calling yourself that name since you could talk.”


“You…read my file and you wanted me here?”
He nodded, “You realize I sold my soul to a demon.”

“And here you are…with your soul. Everyone always wondered what happened to you. Your story ends with Lucifer. No one is certain if that demon of yours killed you, if you betrayed the demon, or what happened.”


‘But you believe….’


She was still trying to wrap her head around it. “Besides, I can’t exactly oust someone Michael and Gabriel like.”

“I hate your God.”


“So do plenty of Catholics, every other year. So, tell me, Lady Vesper. Countess. How did your story end? How are you here, now?”


“That’s…what I’ve been trying to figure out,”
she let her hands rest in her lap, “I got my revenge, all those years ago. I saw Atreyu and Israfel die.” She looked to see if such a revelation would make him flinch, but it did not. So, she continued, “My parents were avenged. I honored the deal…I let Vastien take my soul. That’s the last I remember of that life. Then, I woke up, a screaming infant, some…what is it, a hundred years or so later? My demon didn’t honor our deal, but I do not know how I am alive, I do not know where my demon is, nor much else. I know there was…or there is…a war in hell.”

“Mm. Many demons have fled it and come to earth. It has been causing some trouble.”


“I know. I met one of the cowards.”
And had killed it. Seren hadn’t been happy with its inability to assist her. “I need to get to India, Father.”

He smiled, “Somehow, I knew that. Your answers for reincarnation may very well be there. I will reach out. Is there anyone in particular I should look for?”

“Karna’s family,”
Seren blurted, and did not regret it. If anyone was going to know or believe, it would be them. Certainly Karna went on to have a family. “His last name…it was something British,” his father had been British, after all. She tried to think, tried to get her brain to remember, but it seemed she hadn’t really ever used his surname before. “I…don’t remember.” She wasn’t sure she was ever told.

“It will not be difficult to find out,”
the man said, “There are true guilds in India. I believe if I follow the trails, I will find the way back to its origin,” and he rose then from his chair, “Let me show you to where you will be staying, Lady Vesper.”

And Seren followed, for once feeling as if things were going to change.


120
Freestyle Roleplay / Re: Glass Shards [Closed]
« on: March 03, 2016, 01:53:31 am »
Pills.
Therapy.
Exorcism.

Morgan and Derek tried so many things, and in the end, it was too much. It was too similar to what she had experienced in another life. They refused to believe her. So, needless to say, Seren ended them at the age of thirteen, when she had strength and cognition enough to do so.

“I’m not sorry.”


She said it as their souls twisted in the field around her, the agony apparent. “I told you who I was. Even the priest told you I was not possessed.” The priest hadn’t liked her much, he could sense something very wrong about her, but he had known she wasn’t possessed. “You could believe in all of those things, but you could not believe in reincarnation.” She was disappointed, more than she was angry.

She was disturbed from venting that disappointment when the room’s heat intensified. The creature that stepped forward was not Vastien, but Seren knew it wouldn’t be. She knew not how to summon Vastien himself, just a demon. This one was not as powerful. Its form was twisted, inhuman, and its smile was all canine teeth. “Hello. Which one are you?” Seren greeted as if they were an old friend.

The voice that came out was more feminine than masculine, “We are not on a first name basis, my pet,” it cooed, “though I appreciate your offering, it is not—” when the demon reached out to take the souls, energy from the circle lashed out at it and cut across its clawed hand.

“I do not really need your name,”
Seren stated, “I do not want to make a deal with you. I only want you to bring me Vastien Ba’al.”

This startled the demon, who gave her at first a confused look, before malice came to paint her face, “The one who took part in killing the Warden? No,” she hissed between her teeth, “He is as good as dead. The war in hell has most likely ended him and Balthazar, that treacherous bastard.”

‘War?’
It was inevitable, Seren supposed. “So you are Vastien’s enemy. I see.” And also knew nothing of the war currently, “No, not quite,” Seren corrected herself, smiling as she shook her head, “You are a coward who has fled hell to Earth. Well, then you are no use to me.”

“Who are y—”


The shrieking question didn’t get an answer. Seren dropped to her knees in the circle and placed her hand down upon a mark that was hidden. With a word, it awoke, and the two souls released their energy in the way an atom released its energy. It spread out from the circle, eviscerating the demon and destroying the house around Seren. She didn’t think this through; the roof collapsed not only around her, but from right above her as well. She barely had time to get out a muffled scream before she was lost to unconsciousness.


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