Desperately searching:: Fantasy 1x1 (Updated)

[Sopheriel Memeth]

Updated: (July 2011) I have my fingers crossed for a good partner

Hey there, I'm Kitty, and I'm finally making my own search thread.

I am looking for: A long-term semi-advance lit role play partner (who's good at plot ideas)

I love to Debate and discuss. it isn't often that I have a full fledged idea in mind. I do have a general sense of what I like, and I will rant about it, as you can see. I want the same from you. I want to argueargueargue until we come to something we both would enjoy. None of this "I liked this idea" "kay, lets start". Va bene, moving on:

1: Intro | Cravings | Character stories
2: Fantasy Plots Master List
3: Under Construction Rps
4: Other Concepts
5: post samples

I consider myself quite literate. I average about 3-5 paragraphs a post, because I like to keep things casual and post frequently. I don't role play fandom, and I won't play a romance-based plot. I want story. I will play what fits with my characters, which may include romance, but it I will not focus on it.

I like political intrigue and fantasy, especially hand-in-hand. Ideally, my role-plays will have: a little bit of action, a lot of mystery/philosophy, they will be complicated and involve political struggles or conspiracies, diversity in setting and culture. I prefer 2 main characters that are very close and go through a lot of development. Character drama is a major theme in my writing.

I don't like role-plays were our main characters are separated a lot of the time and don't interact with each other. I don't mind doubling. However, I want a lot of interaction and for our posts to build off each other. I play both male and female characters. I do prefer playing females, but this isn't a deal-breaker for me. Gender is that last thing I care about- regarding both my character and yours. I'm going to play what interests me, and I expect you to do the same.
I am also used to playing Game Master- where you play one character, and I play everything else.

Ŧ
I world-build.
that's my thing. I write lore and setting, and generally what the world is like. I enjoy it, I'm good at it, I'm proud of my work, and I only like to play my ideas. I'm open to suggestions, obviously, and I can be flexible, but really this is what makes role playing fun for me.
I am also a huge fan of new World of Darkness; I will gladly use this lore instead if you are familiar with it, though I dislike anything that heavily involves The Shadow. Geist, Changeling and Vampire will be met with immediate love.

alas, I'm pretty bad at plots. It's rare that I come up for an idea for a role play, and even less likely that it will be any good.

I like to keep in contact with my rp partners over an instant messenger account, and keep all the role playing on gaia. This makes it easier to plan things/argue with each other.


I am craving modern fantasy role plays in my world. I cannot get enough ideas going for it. I love the idea more and more, and I want to write for it, like, constantly. I have tons of lore associated with this; if you can sit through it all, I'll love you forever. If not, I can summarize anything quickly.

I find myself craving something casual. Winter break has left me too exhausted to think clearly, and I want a chance to play around and expand on my ideas without feeling like I have to work at anything, you know? But I'm afraid I'll quickly lose give-a-damn without an interesting plot, so... I'm now looking for something casual and a partner who can spin plots well.

fantasy-adventure role-play, but I'm so inexperienced with the genre it's painful. I don't really have a firm understanding of what adventure is, let alone any ideas for it. So as of now I am searching for a role-player who is experienced with the genre, and is willing to help me collect ideas and get a better understanding of how to write it. We may work out something to actually play, but at the moment I just want help learning this genre.


Ideas I crave!

Fantasy world: ( heart ) supernaturals have always been among us, hiding from the world. Some of them... predators of human flesh; others alien beyond description; many who are no different than you and I. All wield great and terrible power. The world behind our own is rich with history, culture and progress that rivals the mortal world. Do we need to be afraid, or can we walk among them? This can be played as at any point in history, up until the near-future. [extensive lore]

Izumi!Lust


Character stories: ( heart )
(these are my characters.)

Beautiful Madness: Once you saw miracles, held a dream in your palm, could you ever look away, even if it was the most terrifying thing in your life? Ayoka was taken, she was changed, and she came home. But she walks with one foot in the world of Dreams; a broken fugitive, no longer human, searching for a life that still has some magic. [modern fantasy, character drama, mystery-adventure]

the Holy Red Shield: At the start of the Dark Ages, as the whole world falls to pieces, one gargoyle takes a journey that will change the fate of her people. If Senta, a young paladin from the far North, can understand the conflicts that destroy the human lands, she may be able to save her people from the same. [medieval fantasy. action-adventure]

Through Stranger's Eyes: Reva lives for pleasure, and is completely honest about that; its right and wrong she doesn't understand. She lives on the seedier side of the city, works and plays in the darker places, alongside people who are destroying themselves- or others- and is completely oblivious to the situation. From raves to street racing, organized crime to Hollywood parties, this girl lives on adrenaline and endorphines. Its a learning experience. In her world of darkness, there are secrets and there are treasures; what she needs is a partner in crime. [action-adventure and modern fantasy]

Shell-shock: Elle didn't want to be a soldier. But the world was changing quickly, violently. She used to believe in what she was doing, even when she had to kill someone. It was never easy to be a wizard in a world like this, let alone trying to act as a police officer in the supernatural community, but it was a life she had come to be fond of. But the world was changing, and she was becoming a soldier, and she wasn't sure she wanted to face the darkness to come. Not after Berlin... [character drama, political intrigue, action-adventure, modern fantasy]

For thy People: Azra Elaine is to become the next "goddess" of her small kingdom, but only if her people survive. A strange plague is creeping over the land, killing many hundreds- including her mother, the prior "goddess," well before her time. Elaine must find a cure, must protect her home, before she has to watch the death of everything she loves. [medieval fantasy, mystery, adventure]

Until the Stars Burn: Jalin is a troubled, brilliant woman. Over the years, she's traded her humanity away in pieces, driven by a voices she can't control and an anger that blinds. Her's is a life of violence, excitement, science! An enemy of the world. Alone. But if there was someone- not anyone good, not someone to keep her stable, not a minion or a sympathetic ear- but someone like her, a villain, it would all make sense. "I will rule the world." [scifi-fantasy, action-adventure, Super Villains]

I have More Characters! Though not all of them have stories.


Bump for love!
If you have any interest, or would like to propose an idea, post here or PM me.

More information available upon request. a lot more.

[Sopheriel Memeth]

fantasy plots master list:

Full Fledged Plots!

Mages, modern: A small group of teenagers just coming into their Gift throw up some red-flags right away: talents for some nasty magic, including necromancy. No one understands what's happening, and these young mages have to grow into power isolated and tormented, scrutinized by teachers, watched by Twilight, and faced with horrors beyond their imagining. Who marked them, and what for? They're coming close to Awakening, and if this is part of something larger, it could mean a new era of darkness.

Mages, modern: Chaos strikes New England and some heavy stuff begins to happen in the supernatural community; the bulk of which is looked over as "mortal crimes". A few investigators stumble- or are dragged- into an increasingly tangled skein, but none of them can see the larger picture alone.

Lycans, medieval: a traveling pack of lycans (gypsies) is looking for a permanent home, but everywhere around them are hostile packs and unwelcoming towns. They are strange and draw a lot of unwanted attention. In addition, they're trying to guard an important secret but she doesn't feel the need to stay hidden...

Lycans, modern: a relatively small pack gets really angsty when a Hunter appears in town. there have been some really vicious murders lately, and the Lycan packs are an easy target to start looking. The pack wants to move to a safer territory, but one of their own has recently vanished...

Changelings, modern: A motley, home and family destroyed, limp towards the next safe haven, alone, wounded, in a world they no longer belong in. Unable to continue, they stop in a new city; with unknown threats and their Masks quickly fading, it will be struggle just to survive. But something very wrong is happening here...


Time period and Race
Disclaimer: you might see some ideas repeated. These could play well over various time periods with different feels. They are repeated for the sake of formatting.

Modern:

Mages: for the first time, the supernatural community is coming together. 1000 years of darkness and isolation have taken a great toll on the world, and the recent tragedy of Rune the Eclipse has left the world darker than it was. In the early years, the High Council made a long of wrong decisions for the sake of unity. But they were quick to learn that everybody thinks differently, and staying united may be an insurmountable past. On top of this, the human world is getting far more advanced. With powerful technology, stretching metropolises and 24 hour news, staying hidden may no longer be possible…

1) the dance of politics as different ideologies compete for power.
2) Twilight- wizard equivalent of police- face the terrible realization that when things go wrong- and they will- they become soldiers. The rapid militarization of this Order ushers in changes across the board, creating more problems than it solves.
3) Not everyone had confidence that the High Council would work. Behind the scenes, shadow groups watch the rising conflicts, wondering when to seize power.
4) disciples of Rune Vaduva and their attempts to reclaim power

Smaller scale:
1) A young mage, just developing their Gift is approached by a slightly older practitioner to help adjust to a new life.
2) growing media awareness and the pressures it puts on ordinary mages
3) trying to balance a talent for magic with living a mundane life
4) the way political changes affect civilians in the magical community
5) Mages interacting with other races in their area
6) a human gets swept up into the events of the supernatural- not strong enough to really take care of themself, but too strong and determined to simply “be protected”
7) Treasure Hunters: either a mundane stumbling onto magical artifacts while someone else tries to cover them up; or a mage treasure hunter (possibly working with humans), making important discoveries for the supernatural community
8.) a new drug being distributed that might be made with magic
9) division among the leading groups, and its affects on civilian mages
10) playing as protesters or similar with a great temptation to use magic
11) interacting with morally questionable cults
12) the way these tensions can untie/divide people

Lycans: The lycan packs have always been in a difficult position in our world. They are often slandered and misunderstood. Yes, there is a part of them that is animal, that craves the Hunt, but they do not prey on humans. Not most of them. If a Lycan ever loses control of themself, it will be on the first Moon, or because of a more serious illness. They are human enough to live among ordinary people, peacefully, normally. But they are something more: the wilds call to them, more primitive lifestyles with less than human beliefs. But when two tribes meet, sparks fly and blood spills. They are vicious and territorial among themselves, which is their greatest setback in becoming part of this world.

1) a town facing some difficult changes: the bear pack is becoming oddly aggressive, the cougars face division as their leadership changes, a street-gang of lycans is taking more risks and growing more violent, and the wolves are gaining too many new members to stay solid. I'm not sure where to go with that, but it's a volatile situation that could arise good conflict.
1.1) Concerned that the gang will expose the community, a small group tries to unite support from the packs
1.2) Newly turned lycan being mentored
1.3) A fey smuggling ring crosses through several packs' territories
2) A newly turned were-wolf alone, scared of of all of these changes and desperate to redeem himself for the inner monster decides to use his new abilities to do as much good as he can. quick healing, better senses and vast strength are good for a number of things- like police work- but he draws to much attention to himself.
3)modern primitives: the way of the wild is the only life these lycans have ever known... but there isn't many wilds left. The metropolis that has grown around changes everything they know. while they can't adjust to modern life, they have found a way to hunt and prowl in this new world.


Elves: Hidden deep in the forests and old places, there are still some elven tribes, clinging to secrecy and their dying way of life. The world around them is becoming smaller, forcing them to adapt or die out.
1) Do they steal from human cities or try to remain as hidden as possible?
2) back-water conflicts, like a serial killer/kidnapper having a hideout near their woods, or a pot farm and smuggling through their territories.
3) caught between lycan and fey conflicts
4) interaction with lycanthrope mystics
5) encroaching human civilizations
6) forced out of their home and either trying to get it back, or searching for a new home


Vampires: The underground war between these heartless killers and the humans that oppose them has been escalating since WWI and is preparing for its climax in 2017. The Hunters are getting better weapons, better organization, and support from other groups. While the vampires have a tenuous truce with the wizards, and some ancient alliances that can be reformed, they are starting to get desperate. The tides could be changing…

1) a lone vampire is trying to find their own territory and draws then attention of the local Hunter cell
2) a vampire strike force is trying to eliminate their competition and are forced to changed tactics when they notice the Hunters becoming more unified.
3) Younger vampires conspiring to take over a city while their master engage in petty territorial disputes
4) A UN journalist is sent to a remote city-state in East Europe to investigate stories of rampant murder and torture at the hands of a feudal dictator. Their glimpse past the Masquerade will not only change their life forever, but the world as well.


Other*:
1)The Eldryn have been looked over for so long- weak in magic, invisible to humans- that no one has seen what kind of power they have amassed in the mortal world. As magic becomes highlighted more often in the news and secret deals threaten the balance of power, one has to ask what they have planned.
2) After thousands of years of being forgotten, a group of young adventurers discover ruins that are... not human, deep within the Valley of the Kings. The inscriptions speak of the abandonment of the gods, and the path to Shangri'La...
3) the appearance of a True Fey near a modern city
4) member of forgotten races travel across the human world, seeking to learn from- or perhaps change- the modern world.
5) Twisted former slaves of the Fey, Changelings, return to an Earth they no longer know, changed, and trying to survive on the fringes of the human world.


Victorian:

Mage: magic may as well have not existed. Those born with the Gift did everything to hide it- at most casting a single spell a month in their basement. The human world is getting too big and too scary. 1) european expansion brings the "modern" world in contact with superstitious primitives around the world, many of whom have talents beyond understanding. 2) a small cult of practitioners seeks power on the fridges of industrialism.

Lycans:
Elves: In the pioneering period of North West United States: humans are expanding, slowly forcing the supernaturals into smaller and smaller corners. The creatures who used to have a close spiritual relationship with the Native Americans are no longer "needed" in this new age of booming technology. The smaller their territories get, the scarcer food becomes- conflicts arise. But they're also interacting more, which is starting to develop a uniquely shared culture.

Vampires: this is the golden age of the vampires: there are no hunters, humans are well bred cattle. The vampires live in a world apart, their own dark aristocracy that is defined by blood and treachery. Even on a much more local scale, life revolves around the political dance.
1) Elder/Fledging: a freshly Turned vampire is introduced the dark aristocracy, but is their master looking for a co-conspirator, or an expendable pawn?

Other*:

Medieval:

Mages:
Lycan:

Elves: The elves grew along side the human civilizations, powerful in their own way. Even into the Dark Ages, the elves grouped together into larger communities, possibly similar to human kingdoms. But the times were volatile: there were monsters, and god-kings, and the Fey, and wars across the land.
1) slavery under one of the Sidhe (who are not nice in any way).
2) an elven perspective on knights who come into their lands looking for magic or aide.
3) the shift of power where elves and humans go from living side-by-side to where the elves have to stay hidden.
4) interaction with lycanthrope mystics
5) encroaching human civilizations
6) forced out of their home and either trying to get it back, or searching for a new home
7) the Winter elves and their role in the civilizations of the period.

Vampires:

Other*:
1) In feudal Europe, the gargoyle warriors are slaves to human lords; a scattered, broken people with no leaders, no tribes, and no culture of their own. They are a dying race, who's honor earns the contempt of their human masters. But the wind is turning southerly, and bringing rumors of an uprising.


Ancient:
Elves: the hardships of a primitive world where both animals and nature are a serious threat. exploring how a wide variety of situations mold a tribe, or several into different cultures. do they work together, do they fight against each other? what would happen if an outside force- monstrous animals or something- wipes out the neighboring tribes? etc.

Other*:
1) in the Mediterranean sea the Naga cities are aquatic paradises, just barely removed from the human empires coming to birth. But there is a new power in their oceans- an ancient and terrible evil. the monstrous enemies of the Naga have created a new city, empowered by dark magic, and war is declared. Perhaps not a war they can win.
2) throughout the ancient world, these races have watched and nurtured human civilization. Believed by most to be Gods and challenged by their own other-worldly conflicts; what is the real nature of these beings? what do they want? Not as thought our, but general ancient fantasy.
3) As the human civilizations grow, the older beings are forced to adapt. Many among the Yuan-ti believe that if they look more human, they may coexist in peace. Through magic, they begin to rewrite what nature has made of them, but these changes start something unexpected, something dangerous, that their kingdoms may not survive...


*: "other" races include Sidhe, Changelings, Yuan-ti, Naga, gargoyles, Cthonae, Face-dancers, Eldryn, Wendigo, Kailiri, Konnai. More information available upon request.


world changing conflicts (action, maybe horror)

1940's zombie apocalypse: at a time where magic isn't practiced and kept such a tight secret that users don't even speak to each other, a necromancer gains god-like powers and ravages Europe. isolate pockets of weak and terrified supernaturals have to bond together, not only to kill him, but to keep it all a secret as well.

1960 political intrigue: the newly formed mage orders have a problem with the vampires, but the vampires were there first. Before their treaty, the vampires and mages were a breath from tearing each other apart. In the midst’s of the cold war, an unseen conflict grows in Europe; a political battle of threats and whispers that threatens an international "incident".

2015 vampire war: after wizards go public with their abilities, the vampires through caution to the wind and go crazy. the younger generations form terrorist groups dedicated to protecting the bloodlines at all costs. the older and wiser go into deep hiding and scatter across the world. in response, Hunter groups drag vampires out into the streets, exposing them to the world and starting an international, genocidal war.

2050 lycan army and monsters from below: magic's been out for a while, the world is looking more or less stable. Technology and magic have both gotten pretty interesting, but the social issues risen from accepting these kind of people is still rampant. At an unwise moment, a south american military gets their hands on Lycanthropesy, and uses it to start a super-soldier program. But the changes and destruction they bring calls something far more horrible...

2200 cyberpunk-fantasy: most of the social issues have cooled off in first world countries. magic and technology have evolved to the next stage, changing the way people think of themselves and the world. Anything seems possible, but there are horrors creeping from the old places of the world, and all the power of the new world isn't enough to stop them.


random plot quips
An almost human serial killer
medieval gargoyle knights
corrupted (or just regular) fey reaching into our world
exploring ancient ruins and tunnels that aren't exactly human
the terrible exploits of the vampires
territorial clashes of the lycans
the hidden and shy elven tribes, surrounded by a changing world
a city from something else's eyes, and the way magic evolves in a modern world.

[Sopheriel Memeth]

Under Construction Role-plays
(to be read as "massive, epic stories with the depth of a crushing ocean.... which will take a lot of work" )

These are both set up to be group jobs, but can be played one-on-one as well. I haven't had much luck with groups, and I'm not trying to set another up at the moment. anyway, they are both underdeveloped in a few crucial ways, which I may or may not work on soon, depending on the kind of interest I get in them. ... I will use this post to go into depth with what I do have, eventually. for now, settle with links (to a guild which is probably not publicly viewable...)

Space Adventure

Deities

Jak meets Legacy of Kain: the epic adventure of two heroes as they battle through lies and tragedy, and even across time itself, to save their home. Philosophy/action adventure/mystery

[Sopheriel Memeth]

Other concepts:

cyberpunk mystery: A mix between Big O and Ergo Proxy. In the wake of the apocalypse, a single city struggles to rebuild. Machine monsters attack from the ruins below; androids go kill crazy; and terrorists threaten the last struggling city of mankind. Unravel the dark mystery of why this city is tearing itself apart. [lore and plots]
Angels: A dark, terrifying version of Heaven and Hell. Neither world is perfect, and neither world is wrong. Angels struggle constantly between Peace and Freedom. [extensive lore]
the Devil's Tongue:What does it take to chain a demon, and why? What is the lifestyle of a human that would sacrifice his very soul? No one who acquires the kind of power to bring a demon into this world could be called a pure soul; this is not the first time they were willing to pay their blood for ambition, or perhaps desperation. But the contract is not all that it promises, for his servant is a liar born of lies, put on this world for far darker ambition. This is a struggle of greed, deceit, and lives behind closed doors; they both want the world and both live with chains.
Modern Mystic: In the roaring twenties, the cabaret was The Scene of the rich and beautiful. Each struggle with lies, sins and decadence. Haunted by the past, grown cold and tired, racing toward a blurred future; maybe there is solace in each other. Not enough to call love, but perhaps enough to carry onward. Your character, the wicked woman that no longer believes; myself the cold young man who's lost himself and lost control. [characters/setting]

[Sopheriel Memeth]

Post samples

atmospheric

Sounds carried- even his footsteps made a scraping noise that dragged through the crumbling buildings and alleys. It was the stillness; there was no life at all, not even nature had come back to claim this place. Sometimes a radio would flicker, sending a static hiss into the streets, or a rock would fall, bouncing off of metal and stone as it slid down the city; buildings would groan like trees in the wind, footsteps echoed, droplets chimed on every surface. As he walked, Wolf could almost see the ghosts: phantoms of what the city had been before this... whatever happened, his imagination and memory playing tricks with the corners of his eyes. There was no peace to be had here, no quiet corner for meditation and stillness. The nature of this place- a city's skeleton- put every hair on end and played tricks with his mind, building an anxiety and fear that had no words or meaning; only that he understood what this kind of destruction implied.

Still human, after all these years.

A young woman's voice carried through the carparks and skyscrapers, echoing in some places, distorting in others, thrown across downtown until it reached the wanderer. At first, he thought it was his own troubled mind, but he would have recognized the voice if that were the case. It would have been his own, or Kimberly's, or Fraix's or... hers. Any of the people he'd lost in his journeys. No, it was the unfamiliar voice of a young woman, which made him perk up and answer it.

"I'm here. I'm coming to you." He wiped off his sunglass and turned over to infrared in one eye, turned in a slow circle until he found a human shape in the distance, then started jogging. Moving through a city like this took a lot of caution: he had to move over and around charred cars or fallen billboards, climb through collapsed buildings, squeeze past rusted gates and up heaved asphalt, keeping his eyes moving to watch for broken glass or slick oil puddles. It took more than ten minutes to reach her in this way, but the girl was soon in view, and he called out again so as not to scare her.

"Are you alright?"

casual

Sunday evenings were not the best for nightlife scenes like Deep Dish. College students, their bread and butter, would all be dragging themselves back to class in the morning, and most of the other patrons would be waking up for work. Especially in this neighborhood. The boardwalk was a popular spot, however, and not all of the neighborhoods nearby had the best reputation. Whether people had evening jobs, were living off of unemployment and illicit drugs, or whether they belonged to the seedier, less moral working class who had lots of time and lots of money at their disposal- the dance clubs were never empty. Some places could keep up a party every day of the week. Deep Dish wasn't closed tonight, not for a while yet; they even opened early to squeeze the last little drop from the college crowd.
Nothing said "Monday" like sleep deprivation and a hang-over.

In her endless quest for entertainment, Reva had slipped into the dance club only half an hour after it opened, and was in the middle of "getting the vibe", which involved a glowing orange drink, three cheerfully glow-in-the-dark pills, and draping glow sticks on herself.
She hadn't gone home to change, so was still in the full-body biker leather black cat suit, which made her almost disappear in the darkness of the club. However, she'd unzipped it all the way to her navel, showing off a nice, uninterrupted line of flesh. Neon lights got wrapped around her ankles, wrists, neck, waist- and she even had little earrings. Custom made. She'd taken her sunglasses off; her eyes caught the light as if there were metal flecks in them, glittering gold and green from the dark of her form.

She sat at the bar, finished with her accessories, with the drink and three pills waiting in a line on the neon-lit plastic surface of the bar top. One was slid under her tongue, where it would dissolve next to a large artery, hitting her system fast and hard, and the drink vanished in a single pull. For a second, Reva breathed fire, then the pointed her finger at the glass with a huge, sharp smile. "Camarero, uno más, por favor."

setting descriptions

All down the hallway of her dorm, people were shuffling in and out of rooms, a few of them helped by parents, most of them looking extremely nervous and confused, all of them getting in each others' way as they tried to fit boxes through doorways and dart back to the car to get the next. A few of the returning students stood back in the common area, watching the newbies as they talked quietly. There was at least two young men, aged somewhere between student and staff, barking orders and guiding younger students to their rooms, and running about trying to get all the information they needed. The halls were packed on moving day, loud with footsteps and talking, laughter of old friends and sorrowful goodbyes to family.


Right in the entrance to the dormitory, a young bronze-skinned boy- probably fourteen and yet to get a growth spurt- was standing next to a fully dressed mannequin, which loomed well over six feet tall. A couple suitcases had fallen over on the ground around them. The kid was trying to get the attention of a brown and grey haired woman in the courtyard, the inflection of his voice trying to take full advantage of the helplessness of youth. "Mom, the golem broke again!"
"Then fix it, sweetheart," the woman responded with the exact same inflection in her voice. She turned immediately to the other teachers who had been enthralled by her story. "So, anyway, he runs the story, but--"
The boy grumbled darkly to himself as he pulled out a piece of chalk from his coat and stretched on his toes to mark the forehead of the mannequin. It's head wasn't the plastic you would expect in a store display; it was a rougher, heavier material like some kind of flesh-colored stone. He scribbled some symbols that looked like Arabic, erasing the smudges that were there before. He then grabbed the back of its plastic hands and closed his eyes, mouthing a poem silently. A moment later, he leaned up like he was going to kiss the mannequin, but only ended up exhaling on its "face". His body went a little slack after that, and it looked like he was going to fall, but the plastic hand reached up and steadied him. The damn mannequin actually started moving!
"Master, are you well?" The hollow voice sounded like a recording over a bad mic, rather than someone speaking, but it was a similar voice to the boy's.
The kid shook him off with an independent, "I'm fine," and turned down the hall. "Come on, Clayton, my room is this way." The mannequin picked up the picked up the luggage again and followed after the kid in jerky, swaying movements.


As Tenaya stepped into the courtyard, a young man's voice rang out, as though from a microphone, and quite a crowd started gathering around the box he was standing on. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present for your viewing pleasure, Gabrielle Gambino and her Ethereal Light Orchestra!"
There was no modest amount of applause as the raven-haired Italian woman stepped up on the box. She was definitely a senior, looking closer to twenty than sixteen. The crowd loved her, but she met the cheers with a blank and serious expression. Music began to play from no apparent source, the light quivering of string instruments; she made sweeping gestures like a maestro, as though directing the violins. Following her fingers were trails of different colored light, and as the piano and trumpets swelled, her movements became more dramatic and exaggerated, becoming an actual dance that got pretty elaborate. The lights that surrounded her swelled both with the music and her twirling motions, painting abstract streaks of neon color in the air around her as the Eldorado Overture carried across the courtyard.
In the end, her humorless expression cracked. By the time she stepped down, her face was almost glowing under the sheen of sweat and bright laugh that tugged at her lips.


Gathered around an archway in one corner of the area was a flock of girls about Tenaya's age, catching up with each other after months apart. The center of attention seemed to be a girl from India, whose long hair spiked out every whichaway, every spike dyed a different shade: cyan, violet, blue-green, bight pink. "Lookit what my uncle sent me from Australia." She held up her wrists and tilted her head, showing off matching bracelets and necklace carved out of pure coral. Wavy little ridges and fans arced off of the jewelry, looking like fins and sails. The group cooed for a minute, agreeing that her uncle made the best stuff.
"Omigawsh, guess who I met this summer," a dark-haired girl interjected in a crisp Castillian accent. "A real werewolf." Her friends were delighted in a high-pitch wave of excitement. "His name is Jean-Paul," she continued as they quieted again. "His family owns a vineyard. It's like something out of the Renaissance festival. He said he's going to visit me on Samhain."


A couple people hung back by themselves, silently watching the movement all around them. A few people were setting up miniature performances, as though this was some kind of festival. New students either stood around, jaw gaping at everything going on around them, or else carried their luggage with petrified expressions fixed intensely on the task at hand. Teachers stood around in groups, dressed in archetypal jackets or formal black robes with the flat-topped hats. Some gave directions and help to students that approached them, others talked in groups, a couple hurried back and forth in and out of the buildings, carrying their own suitcases and paperwork. Some guy in loose shorts and a ballcap strode up the driveway, carrying a stack of four pizza boxes in each hand. It took a while for his approach to be noticed, but a small mob soon rushed out to greet him, most of them cheering and laughing. A small platoon of kids in full fencing suits, carrying the thin practice rapiers and wearing short gray capes, stepped out of one dorm hallway in unison, heading out toward the fields that surrounded the school. A first year, probably someone's kid sibling, held onto a broom like he was trying to ride it, while a group of older kids stood around laughing at him. The broom broke free a moment later, and caromed down the path, bouncing off of walls and other students, before flying up to lodge on the roof or maybe the lake. It had thwacked one of the older boys in the chest before it went, and the laughter turned on him now. (Flying brooms were not as common as legends made them sound.)

The administrative building was much of the same, only with an older cast. Young men and women ran here and there with stacks of paperwork and ten pound binders. People stood around chattering with take out-food and cups of coffee- some of it amicable, some of it frustrated. In a few offices, parents were talking with the faculty, while their youngest ones played hand-held games in the hall patiently. "That's just not acceptable," a booming voice told an intern down one hall, "when are they going to get here?"
A pair of older men, wearing long gray cloaks- a mirror of the fencer team- stood just inside the doorway of an office, talking in quiet, concerned voices. They were carrying actual real swords, and held walking sticks with carved runes, and it looked like they were wearing gun holsters too. A small group of business people in very nice suits were led through the office by a younger spokesman who was really up-selling their fine curriculum. A old man with a long white beard sat next to a frail looking woman with steel wisps of hair and a shaved, emaciated elderly Chinese man, sharing a hookah in an out of the way alcove, calmly ignoring the commotion around them.


The counselors office was a square room with a dozen adjoining offices, a small waiting area, and a receptionist who was quietly taking care of paperwork. He was wearing one headphone, and soft music (it sounded like Irish Folk) played from the dangling one. A couple parents sat on the waiting bench, reading over paperwork and talking quietly on the phone, but no other students were waiting. When Tenaya stepped in, Pat (as his name-plate informed) looked up and politely took out the one ear bud, smiling at her. "'Y 'ello t'ere, Miss. Why don' you put yer name 'ere and go right in?" He pointed to an open door on one side of the room. As he pushed the sheet and pen to the edge of his desk for her, he leaned over to wave at the open room. "Jenny, ye've gotta customer."

setting descriptions

In the Year of Our Lord, 980, Byzantium was the shifting center of a world in conflict. The Franks and Slavs to the north and west had been responsible for the collapse of West Rome, and now the barbarians clamored at the gates of Byzantium, dedicated, it seemed, to pulling all civilization into ruin. In recent years, the late emperor John Tzimiskes charged deep into the borderlands, and came to reoccupy much of Syria: Nazareth, Tripoli, Damascus. He even came to the doorstep of Jerusalem, but his armies were driven back, and the emperor died soon after. His successor, Basil the second, was not the warlord John had been, nor did he seem concerned with expanding the empire; his troubles were within, solidifying his grasp on the State and securing the foundation of Holy Rome. This did not bode well with the land-holding lords who longed to once again rule holy Jerusalem. Just one year ago, a would-be king had led rebellion, only to be crushed by Basil. He turned then to the other lords, who possessed all there was in the way of wealth and land. They were threats, and they broke the backs of their subjects, both problems the emperor was resolved to change. For the first time in her life, Aria Giovanni, and other thieves like her, had the silent support of the imperial army, since even the king seemed to rob from the rich and give to the poor.

The Mediterranean was the center of the world, and all great nations clung to its shores, warring to control all of its wealth. In days now long past, Rome held its sword over every shore, and wherever the legion marched, civilization soon followed. In the stories of soldiers and traveling merchants, some of the great marble temples still stood in the midst of sprawling cities, even on the distant land of Egypt. Many more had been torn to pieces, burnt to the ground and converted into mosques as the Islamic Caliphate fought to claim the lands once belonging to their fallen sire, Persia. Byzantium, the sole inheritor of what remained of Rome, struggled to reclaim the lost cities from the barbarians and Muslims, and had been doing so for centuries. Those borderlands were in an endless state of turmoil, invaded first by one army and then the other, changing colors and kings before they could so much as erect a temple. Trade throughout the great sea was a dangerous prospect, and travel even more so; every sailor was a traitor to one empire or the other, and the waters of their safe passage shifted constantly undersail. The golds and spices and silks from Arabia, along with a hundred more necessary goods, rarely came without an army come to claim them. Everyone was in need, and none so much as the commoner.

Constantinople was the calm center of the world, the bridge between Greece and its isles and the rich farmlands of Anatolia, and beyond it, the newly reclaimed cities of Syria. It was built on the water, controlling the only passage between the Aegean and Black Sea, and through them, the trade routes to every civilized region of Europe and Arabia. It was an enormous city, overflowing with peoples from all lands and faiths, home of the most impressive temples and palaces in the known world, where the merchant ruled, and the thief prospered.

setting descriptions

Her place then. Kim gave careful consideration to his other suggestions, and tried to come up with something. There were a variety of parks around the city, the suburbs, the actual roof tops another twenty-seven stories up and the mountains to the east. None of them seemed close enough or preferable to head towards. She did live over by the university, which had parks, sports centers and practice ranges, not to mention all of the specialized classrooms and auditoriums. Nyxenmr did run twenty-four hours a day, so there was no guarantee that campus would be empty enough to accommodate an infuriated Hunter, but it was one of the safer options. And, if it came to, the university was pretty close to the mountains, which should provide the "away from people" if nothing else. So, home it was.

Kim started heading toward the street, and pointed Kyouhei's attention skyward. Seven stories above them was another reinforced plastic street that supported the next tier of the city. Unlike the one they were standing on, which separated the Old City, above them was clear, and the neon lights were obscured, but visible. More importantly, however, was the roller-coaster looking tracks bolted to the underside and reinforced with by street-wide lines of enchantments.

"We'll take the light rail toward the university. My apartment is just off campus, and we'll be about twenty minutes from nowhere in case she's more reckless than I'm hoping for-- three if my roommate is home." The importance of a car. Kim didn't have one herself, not in a city like this. It was a half hour commute to work, but a pleasant one, and it passed by all her favorite cafes.

It took five minutes to get to a boarding station (two streets down and a quick elevator ride), and after it was ten minutes to ride to the university. Above the city like this, even at night, gave anyone a clear impression of downtown Nyxenmr. It wasn't dissimilar to New York, but some how more international. Nyxenmr itself was a city-state, not part of a larger nation, and not only did every country and their colonies come through "the Night's Splendor", but there were at least a dozen unique magical cultures that Kyouhei didn't recognize. Traditional to the city was a Gothic architecture, and the unavoidable utilitarian skyscrapers, but some of the bridges were hollowed out in an ophidian fashion, and some of the buildings were shaped to accommodate magic better; and everywhere the lights. Whole lakes defying gravity on the sides of buildings, commercial holograms or news reports hanging just below the trolley, the explosions of fire mages performing downtown.

It was several minutes before the hustle of the city was replaced by the faux serenity of the university. It looked like any other state institution at night, if not several stories too big and a little more artistically built, but there were parks and coffee shops between the colleges, and only about an eighth of the students washed over the grounds in flocks. When they stepped off the trolley, Kim took a breath and started heading for home. They went up and down three separate staircases, and crossed two bridges, which felt unsettlingly like airport boarding terminals, and finally stepped into the Royal Flush Apartment complex. Kim had to turn three locks and flair a bit a magic against a rune on the frame before the door opened, and she all but fell on her couch in relief.

"Make yourself at home," she muttered to Kyouhei, waving him inside. It was a two a bedroom that barely had more floorspace than a studio, and a cramped mess did not begin to describe it. Three bikes hung in one corner, tucked behind an unexpectedly thin bookshelf. A blank space occupied a decent portion of the wall across from the couch, presumably for entertainment of some kind, and Kim's laptop rested on the coffee table. The kitchen did not have a single surface available- including the floor- as it had become to the home to several rather intimidating crates and bags, only half of which smelled like food. The fridge might be able to open enough to reach an arm in, provided one could wiggle over the assorted boxes to the middle of the kitchen. There was no dinner table, just a wall of power tools, spare parts and loose paper (and a pristine, pink laptop set aside in the center). There were four doors in the hall, one of which had caution tape wrapped across its frame, and another that had a hologram of a sleeping fox keeping guard. They had a porch that only fit a pair of chairs, but had a beautiful view of downtown, and sported an overused ashtray and a discarded book.

There was, at the moment, nobody else in the apartment (Kyouhei couldn't even sense someone asleep in their room), but it wasn't hard to start feeling anxiety and claustrophobia in such a space.

introduction post

Nathanael stepped back with an exasperated sigh and held up his hands to try explaining. Again. He stood with a rare pupil in a corner of the gym. The general noise of the room- striking punching bags, grunts and such- echoed off of the padding and concrete walls, making everything sound louder, sharper, and yet fuzzy somehow, to the point that even silence felt loud. Most of the time, you had to yell to talk to anyone, so that if more than two instructors gave lessons at the same time, barking, indistinct shouts never stopped. It offered a modicum of privacy, but Nathanael still had to talk loud enough that he was careful with his words."You have to see it. Feel it. It's not one of these sets where you can memorize the steps; it's like art- you have to put yourself into it."

His student quirked an eyebrow and pouted, obviously not impressed. That slid off him, though; Nathanael had a New Age-y approach to, achem, martial arts that earned him a lot of skepticism. He motioned for the young woman to try again, but, like the last hour, nothing happened. He dropped his stance and patted her on the shoulder with a heavy hand and a sympathetic smile. This was their third lesson, and it was starting to look bleak; maybe she couldn't learn. Some people can't- they still don't know why. Kim hated that answer though, and frankly, Nathanael did too. When they first started, he said he couldn't make promises, only that he wouldn't give up if she didn't, but it was getting difficult to explain the same thing in different ways. He'd never taught someone like her before, and he found it a lot like telling someone to use a muscle they didn't know about for the first time: you can describe where it is, what it does, and what it feels like when you do it, but until that first time they stumble on it accidentally, no amount of explanation helps. Minus one, plus one; fill the hole.
Maybe there was a different approach he could try. There had to be something he could research.

"Homework," he told her with a cheerful smile. Her eyes narrowed. These lessons were increasingly frustrating for her. He tried to soften the blow by explaining, "To help with the visualization. Buy some vodka, pour it in a clear cup and put it in the freezer." He paused to watch her reaction, which was worth it. She perked up, eyes wide and moving back and forth uncertainly. She was trying to figure out where he was going with this. There was an eagerness and curiosity in her expression that most young people got when you mentioned alcohol around them. Kim was under-aged too- but then college students had their ways. "Wait for a couple of hours- it won't freeze at first. Once you move it, the atoms will align and-" he clicked his fingers "-it'll freeze right before your eyes. I'm serious. It should help." He offered an encouraging smile and handed her a towel, nodding her towards the door.

Not a minute after the college girl walked away, he heard a woman ask, "Taking my students now, Clay?"
He turned around to meet Alia's smug grin with a weary smile of his own. Alia Greene was tall, strong and young; she taught a Women's Self Defense group at the gym, which Kimberly admittedly came from. Her tone had not been angry, though- she'd been teasing him. Which she seemed to be doing a lot of the past several days. Nathanael shifted his weight nervously, ran a towel over his head, and put on his glasses. It took a conscious effort not to stare at the girl- sorry, young woman- but he had enough practice by now that he didn't. Not even for a second. And in stark defiance of the many good reasons she gave to stare. Silently, he wished they could go back to being passing acquaintances who never said more than a few words, but lately she'd been going out of her way to harass him and catch his attention. Nathan wasn't thick; he knew she probably had a thing for him. But she half his age, by the stars! He wouldn't even notice her if it weren't for lines like that, and now that he had, it was very uncomfortable for him.
Lets be clear on something. Forty-eight isn't old.
And he looked young for his age; there was only a little bit of gray in his hair, and maybe some worry lines. You age slower the older you get, you know: proven fact. Maybe his knees did whine a little bit in the mornings and his lower back in the evenings, and he needed a lot of healthy stretching before working out. And, you know, when he forgot to shave, he looked kind of like a zombie- which was far too often for his own good, considering the odd night class he took, and all those late nights writing enchantments. Achem. We'll, uh, stop there.

The point was that he could be her father. Which made it a little creepy that she was flirting with him, and it made Nathanael awkward and stupified. His best defense, demonstrated today, was backing toward the door with a few vague hand motions and some mumbled words. Which she seemed to enjoy. Damn it. Then the locker room door shut between them, and Nathanael was finally able to focus on something he was comfortable with: the bonding of elctro-statics and processes of fossilization.

As usual, it was only after a quick shower, when he was grabbing his things to leave, that a witty response to her comment popped into his head unprovoked.

”introduction post”

The mornings were always cold in the city; she hadn’t decided if she liked that or not. Elle curled around her coffee as she walked through the crowded city streets, drawing into any source of heat she could find and still trembling underneath her coat. It was supposed to be good for her to “get out of the house”, but she wasn’t feeling it. She had to push her way through walls of bitter people, all the while surrounding by blaring horns. Every few steps, it felt like she was jumping, twitching at each unexpected noise and reaching for her sidearm. Her eyes were wide and red, darting back and forth as though trying to see everything at once. It didn’t take long before her steps became uneven with dizziness and the young woman had to fumble onto a porch to steady herself.

She took deep breaths and buried her face in her hands, trying to let go of everything. It was terrifying. It’s not like Elle had any more control on the battlefield, but she had a job, people relying on her, responsibilities… people looking out for her. She knew her part and she had total control over it. Here it was chaos and she was all alone. Can’t even make it to the pharmacy. You’re useless. It took a moment before the sounds of the city around her had… muted a little bit. She’d blocked it out without even thinking about it. The world spun as she stood, but she stood firm for a moment, shaking off the headache and letting everything settle. Her fingers slowly unwrapped from the gun handle on her waist and she took a step. She needed to get some rest.


“Codeine is a very serious drug. I don’t even know this doctor; I’m sorry Miss… Tesla, but I--” The nurse was cut off as the young woman gripped her hand, somewhere between angry and desperate. Her blue eyes looked hollow from sleepless nights and her stance trembled a bit. The woman couldn’t see the other hand from behind the counter, but there was a soft crackle on the edge of her hearing. “T-tell me about your symptoms. I want to help, but I have to make sure this is right for you.”

Elle let go and closed her eyes, focused on keeping the electricity inside her body. In the middle of a store like this, there was no excuse for losing control of her gifts. She took an uneven breath and started reciting some of what she’d been feeling. It’d been getting worse since she got back to New York; the headaches, back pains, the nausea, the shaking. She felt like some kind of junky, which is exactly what the nurse asked, but her blood was clean. But if she didn’t get some kind of pain killers soon, she was going to start asking more questionable suppliers. When the nurse finally agreed to get her the pills (at a considerably lower dosage), Elle took a seat, trying to relax. Her eyes still darted back and forth, and her hands wrung and clenched as though trying to keep something back. Her foot bounced impatiently. She let out a few slow breathes and let her mind wander, trying to decide what to do with the rest of her day. Could she afford spa treatment?

“You look like you need a priest, sister, not a doctor.” Elle froze. Her entire body went tight, either in fear or anger. Impulsively, her hand moved for her gun, but she stopped herself and slowly turned to the young man who sat next to her. She was guessing he was South African from his skin and accent. He seemed familiar somehow, but her thoughts were too scattered to place it. Talk about opposites; he was completely relaxed, managing to look fancy, smart and casual all at once, and seeming to not have a care in the world. She looked him over, literally trying to decide if he was going to cause problems, but turned away with an irritated click of her tongue.

“Priests make people feel guilty, not better. I’m here to get rid of my pain.”

“It isn’t your body that’s in pain, sister. It’s your soul.” She met his dark eyes with a glare. But he stared right back at her, so calm, so serious; her look of anger melted into confusion and almost awe. Such piercing eyes, like he could look right through her and see everything she was. It was when she noticed the soft glow behind his iris and felt the pull of magic that she recognized what was happening and she jerked her eyes away and curled into a ball in the chair. He almost pulled her into a Soul Gaze. Another mage then.

“Did someone send you to watch me, friend?” Games like this pissed Elle off. If they didn’t think she was fit for duty, they could damn well say it to her face. She didn’t like other wizards interrupting her personal life and talking nonsense like this. She wasn’t crazy. She just… needed a break right now; and she said that back in Berlin. They’d given her six months’ leave, and now, three weeks in, she’s talking to some creeper in a pharmacy. Stars and Stones, he was probably with Internal Affairs.

“Maybe people are just concerned. It’s a little strange that you’re seeing one of their doctors, isn’t it?” He handed her a slip of paper as he stood and moved toward the door. “Do me a favor: see someone else before you try that medicine. It’s not going to make you better- it’s going to help you run away, and I know you aren’t a coward.”

“Miss Tesla, I have your order.” The man left without another word, but Elle watched him walk away until he had passed out of view. She had the lingering feeling that man was going to ruin her life, but for some reason it was comforting to think someone had her back. She stood and grabbed her bag of pills. Her eyes moved between the address she’d been given and the prescription. With a brief smile to the nurse, she left, making sure she went the opposite direction of that guy. It couldn’t hurt to go see a flesh-crafter… Merde.

inspiration

The glow of the computer screen reflected off the large glasses of the young woman as she rested back and folded her arms. The desk around her was overflowing with loose sheets of paper- all of it filled with technical drawings, clippings of research notes and equations that were still mostly theory. The external hard drive plugged into her custom laptop hummed in a warm, electrical manner. It displayed all manner of files stolen from the Department of Defense for the woman to crawl through, most notably her own research in neurology. She knew what she was going to build and how. She had a list of what she needed to pull this off. What she didn’t have was the resources. The list on the screen was all the parts she’d need, what they cost or how to get a hold of them. All that was left was to do it.

Her heart skipped and throat closed up. Yeah, she just had to do it. Jalin was scientist though; her best work was on paper. And though she had been dreaming of taking her vengeance out on the world for years, in this moment she was more nervous than anything. So she turned to what made her comfortable- rules- and started planning her first heist. With every detailed planned in advance, nothing would go wrong. She would be perfect.


Money wouldn’t solve all of her problems. There were plenty of parts she needed that simply couldn’t be bought- rare elements or classified technology in a military compound- things that she had to break in and steal directly. However, it’s not like she could walk there, or take them without the proper equipment. Everything came back to money. Even though she had liquidated her assets two years before and scraping by on the bare minimum since, there was no way she had enough money to get everything she needed. So, crass that it may be, Jalin found herself staring up at the National Bank at two in the morning, sliding on gloves.

She had toys enough to break in, take a few million dollars, and leave no evidence. Evidence of course meaning finger prints, security cameras- anything that could trace back to her.

The streets were empty, silent. The building was dark, illuminated only by the emergency lights and the glow of the streetlights. She stepped up the front door, placed her hands on the glance and peered around. Her glasses switched over to infrared, picking up the shape of one security guard wandering the back offices and an otherwise empty building. Jalin raised a small, pen-shaped object and clicked on the laser. Not laser pointer; the focused beam produced enough heat to melt glass on its lowest setting. In patient strokes, she cut a hole in the door and gently pushed the glass aside. Instead of stepping through immediately, Jalin removed a baseball-sized orb from her lab coat, squeezed until it began to hum, and rolled it into the room.

A pinch emits a burst of electromagnetic radiation strong enough to knock out all electronic devices within the radius for a short period. The technology existed since the 1940’s; in fact, a nuclear bomb produces a similar field a second before flaming death wiped out the landscape. Cal Tech did the most public research on these devices, and had developed them to the point where they could knock out a city for about a minute. That was not what Jalin wanted. She was going to take much longer than a minute, but fortunately did not need an entire city to go without power. Her bomb was stolen from the NSA two years ago: it produced a much smaller field, but sustained it until deactivated. As the humming grew louder, a tingling sensation filled the air and things began to crackle. The security cameras sparked and went off line. Her glasses filled with static and finally clicked off (she could still see, but lost the infrared and heads-up-display that made the job easier). The streetlights nearby flickered, trying to hold steady, and finally dimmed out to black. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she stepped inside, raising the laser as though a pistol.

The guard would have noticed something. Jalin knew where about he had been a minute prior, and assumed he’d head straight for the lobby. Her fingers wrapped around a heavy statuette, testing the weight before lifting it, and pressed against the wall in waiting. Sure enough, the clacking footsteps of the guard were heard within a few seconds as he moved in the pitch-black cautiously. His flashlight didn’t even work. He could probably see as well as her, so she was cautious, but he had no idea what was going on. He passed right by her as he came out to investigate the black out, gun at a low ready. She held her breath, lifted the small metal Buddha and took a step toward him.

Her boots squeaked on the tile.

Always the god damn boots!

He spun around to hit her with the handle of his weapon, but all she needed to do was drop her arm. There was an audible crack as the metal statue connected with his forehead. Blood stained her makeshift weapon, a thick black ooze in the low-light. She used the weight of her swing to duck down and spin, trying to kick his feet out from under him. Jalin was no martial artist, and he was pretty well built. But steel-toed boots connecting with your shin hurt. The guard lost balance between the two strikes, sinking back against the teller desks and lifting his gun. He was dizzy, it was dark, and she was still moving. She ducked under his arm, closing the distance between them to drive a knee into his crotch. The gun barked, bouncing through the room like thunder. Between the gunshot and her bomb, which hummed like a power generator three feet away, a massive headache made Jalin go dizzy and blind for a moment. But her knee connected; the guard lost his breath with a loud grunt, and crumpled to the ground. She followed, dropping onto one knee and slamming the statuette down on his hand. His fingers broke around the gun with a wet snap. She pressed the laser to his head, cranked up the setting, and burned a hole through his skull.

Sweat formed on her brow. Adrenaline burned through her veins. The smell of burnt flesh filled her lungs. She was breathing heavy in the aftermath of the fight, trying to calm herself and focus on what she was doing. That… was incredible. She didn’t have time to think. Her body moved on its own, sensing danger and striking out relentlessly, all without any practice. It had been like… like math at the time. She didn’t know how to fight, but she knew how things moved, how things broke, and just did it. A malicious grin formed across her face as she thought back on what just happened- the kind of grin that deserved to have fangs. Exhilarating. It felt so good, hurting him.

But she had things to do.


The vault door loomed above her, an impenetrable wall of steel. She slipped a pocket watch out of her jacket to see how she was on time. People would have heard that gunshot and called the police- probably. This was the business district; downtown was pretty empty this late (early?). She didn’t have to worry about alarms, fortunately, and the phones would be down as well in the adjacent buildings. Still, a shot that loud (her ears were still ringing) it was best not to take chances.

She knelt and slid off her backpack- tiny little thing. The explosives she pulled out looked like C4, but they were her own design. Primarily thermite, and wrapped with a magnesium fuse. It burned hot and fast, but didn’t really explode. It seemed much quieter to melt the door off. She packed the stuff entirely around the frame, stuck a wick in the putty and slipped around the corner. She flicked her lighter against the fuse. Fire shot towards the door in only three seconds. The effect was instant, and she was grateful to be facing the other way. It was like a flare- a giant flare- the burned pink and violet with the intensity of the sun. The door sizzled for about thirty seconds while its locks and hinges melted. When the light finally faded out, there was a rush of air, like a sigh of relief, a loud creak, and a heavy boom as the vault door fell into the hall.

Jalin stepped around the corner, holding her breath to keep smoke out of her lungs and stepped forward. Both the door and the frame were red-hot, almost liquid steel, but cooling quickly. She was careful not to step too close and touch as little metal as possible. She didn’t want to melt her boots. Or gloves. Or her hair for that matter. She fluffed open her backpack and looked around the vault. Hard cash first, precious gems if she still had room. So far, so good. It was time to take what she deserved.

Casual

Options were almost new to her. She knew each of the meats, how best to hunt, how best to cook and preserve, and what a fair portion was, but Kafi had not tasted the three side-by-side and tried to put value on the taste. Never in her lifetime had the tribe had such an abundant hunt, and since she had become separated, food had only gotten more sparse. Deer was graceful and proud, bear was fierce and strong, hare was fast and witty. Then the best meat should be bear: strong prey, big feast, strong hunter, spirits take pride. Would like bear; strong meat, good meal.

Kafi crouched low to the ground and offered her hand to the cubs. She stayed still and quiet, staring at their eyes. Puppies were cute, but also unpredictable. They didn't know their strength, and always wanted to play with teeth. If they knew her scent, they would not be scared, and if she could pet them, she could charm them- just enough to make friends. It was her Gift.

casual

Sunday evenings were not the best for nightlife scenes like Deep Dish. College students, their bread and butter, would all be dragging themselves back to class in the morning, and most of the other patrons would be waking up for work. Especially in this neighborhood. The boardwalk was a popular spot, however, and not all of the neighborhoods nearby had the best reputation. Whether people had evening jobs, were living off of unemployment and illicit drugs, or whether they belonged to the seedier, less moral working class who had lots of time and lots of money at their disposal- the dance clubs were never empty. Some places could keep up a party every day of the week. Deep Dish wasn't closed tonight, not for a while yet; they even opened early to squeeze the last little drop from the college crowd.
Nothing said "Monday" like sleep deprivation and a hang-over.

In her endless quest for entertainment, Reva had slipped into the dance club only half an hour after it opened, and was in the middle of "getting the vibe", which involved a glowing orange drink, three cheerfully glow-in-the-dark pills, and draping glow sticks on herself.
She hadn't gone home to change, so was still in the full-body biker leather black cat suit, which made her almost disappear in the darkness of the club. However, she'd unzipped it all the way to her navel, showing off a nice, uninterrupted line of flesh. Neon lights got wrapped around her ankles, wrists, neck, waist- and she even had little earrings. Custom made. She'd taken her sunglasses off; her eyes caught the light as if there were metal flecks in them, glittering gold and green from the dark of her form.

She sat at the bar, finished with her accessories, with the drink and three pills waiting in a line on the neon-lit plastic surface of the bar top. One was slid under her tongue, where it would dissolve next to a large artery, hitting her system fast and hard, and the drink vanished in a single pull. For a second, Reva breathed fire, then the pointed her finger at the glass with a huge, sharp smile. "Camarero, uno más, por favor."

casual

It was almost lunch before Myrna looked up from her work. The stacks of folders piled around her laptop were overflowing with loose sheets that only stayed on the small coffee table by a miracle. Well, by magic at least. The young woman folded her journal (one of those schoolbook classic black and white ones) and set it on her keyboard as she saved the file. She rested back as she went to take a sip from her coffee, found nothing and sighed. As she stood up, she pulled out the techno remix of Beethoven’s fifth out of her ears and looked around the coffee shop for what was feeling like the first time. She’d been in the same chair since, what, seven or something that morning? All sense of time had been lost in her work.

It was a cozy shop- one of her favorites- small but comfortable. They didn’t have any wooden or metal chairs that made great decoration; everything here was fluffy and oversized and had a mismatched color scheme. It was very boho, very relaxing. It felt more like a living room to her than her apartment, which is why she’d been spending hour after hour in this place all week. That’s what Myrna loved about this city: all the coffee shops. Family owned spots that just cared about relaxing their customers.

Mid mornings got pretty slow with only a few regulars sitting around and rarely a new customer; and then it would flood again during lunch. They were somewhere in the between when Myrna stood and made her way to the counter. As usual, she was dressed in business casual- dress slacks and a blouse, straightened hair. She did have some nice jewelry, mostly old stuff, but wearing that sort of thing in the open in this city automatically associated you with the “occult” community. She thought her outfit made her look older than she actually was, and like a bookworm, which was exactly what she wanted; it was hard to be taken seriously in an academic field if you were under thirty. It kind of made her stand out in a place this casual, but so did four years worth of paperwork clustered around her table.

She ordered something sweet with lots of caffeine and didn’t go back to work when she sat down. Starting to cramp up anyway; it was probably time for a walk, a good lunch, and maybe a little while playing with her Gift so she could unwind. At least for the moment things were peaceful.

[Sopheriel Memeth]

bump

[Sopheriel Memeth]

bump

[Sopheriel Memeth]

Hmm. how can I attract more attention to my thread? Do you think it needs a new name? I know I click on all the 1x1 searches I see. Where can I find the kind of people I'm looking for?

[Sopheriel Memeth]

oooh, you know what I hate the most? When I post on someone's thread- like seriously a minute after they do- and then they sign off without ever answering!

What's even worse though, omigawd! Is when they sign on a day or two later and go back to bumping and just ignore me. I. Hate. That.

[Sopheriel Memeth]

You know what else annoys me: the current search thread style.

the whole "characterXcharacter" style... it irks me. pretty bad.

I mean, it's simple and sweet and as far as fan-dumb goes, it's fine, but it just does not work for original ideas. "vampirexwerewolf"-- what does that even mean? it tells me nothing about the relationship of the characters, so I automatically assume it's romantic, cuz everyone is doing romance these days.

is it so hard to write 1-3 sentences explaining the ideas that you're craving, or generally interested in? seriously?

[Sopheriel Memeth]

I should be looking for a different role playing site, actually. I mean, I like gaia, but everyone here is so young, and it's next to impossible to find some one with my interests. I mean, look- no one's even posted. not even to bump.

[Sopheriel Memeth]

I don't know If I have anything else to complain about... and still 45 minutes till my next class. should I post pretty pictures?

[Alkuna]

Come on, give this girl some sugar. She is your neighbor.

Figuratively speaking.

(Unless you really happen to be her neighbor.)

[Sopheriel Memeth]

in which case, I can take photos of you and use them for black mail. <.<;;

or, you know, harass you. Which I just might try....

[Sopheriel Memeth]

there has to be someone out there interested.

look, I have a lot of ideas- and most of them aren't even typed! and I won't type them until I have a motive to. like, you know your interest.

basta.