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EXILE RPG
In a world where it’s possible to collect magic from magical people, beasts and things, criminals have their magic forcefully extracted and given to the magicless by the corrupt government, the Ruthkirn Haefin. Magic can be wonderful, but too much magic can be incredibly dangerous to people with any capacity for magical use- it can drive them mad. So, when a new continent is discovered full of dangerous and magical beasts, the only people they’re willing to send in is the criminals- magicless and completely useless to the government, a mere liability, who cares if they live or die?
In this RP, we’ll be playing people who had their magic extracted due to being accused of crimes and now have to do the dangerous job of collecting magic in an unexplored new land. You can play off this topic slightly- for instance Katydid’s character is slightly different in that she still has a hint of her magic, but she’s still a balanced character because of how weak being blood farmed makes her. If you’re not sure about your character just ask one of us (Danie, Indigo, Katydid) for help.
Rules
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Please make a balanced character with both strengths and weaknesses. This will make the role play more fun- if your character is so powerful he or she could easily overcome the problem, the role play won’t be very hard or long, and we wouldn’t have to think up any interesting ways for the characters to get around the problem.
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Please be respectful of other people. Don’t control what their character does in one of your posts or do something without their permission.
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Please, only one person gets a power. Multiple people with the same powers might get kind of boring. However, since we need a relatively balanced ratio of boys and girls, if you want to make a boy character with the same power as a previously made girl character, you can.
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One character each, please. This rule is in place because when there are too many characters, it can get confusing. If there’s only one character per person, more people can roleplay than if each person has five or six characters.
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Even with the previous rule it’s still likely there may be too many people roleplaying together if we don’t have a rule on how many people can join- so there’s a limit of 10 people, first come first serve- but you can reserve spots and if by the time you’re reading this, this RP has started, you can join if you are up to date on what’s going on in the RP.
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We’ll be starting with them just getting off the boat onto the new land of their exile.
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If you have read all of these rules, please put the word ‘blue’ in one of your sentences in the pet peeves part of the character sheet.
Character Sheet
Name:
Age(15 or older):
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality:
Powers they previously possessed:
Pet Peeves:
Weaknesses:
Backstory (write a short scene where they get caught or imprisoned):
Danie’s Character:
Name: Olive Wilkens
Age(15 or older): 15
Gender: Female
Appearance: Surprisingly clean fluffy light gray hair in a bob. Large gray blue eyes that never seem to stare straight at you. She has the height of a 12 year old, and would be average in weight if they actually fed them enough. Her face is speckled with dirt. Her clothes look like someone was desperately trying to clean them but failed in the end.
Personality: Olive is naive and cheerful to the point of cluelessness, and she can’t seem to figure out the seriousness of her situation or of future problems. She can’t hold a grudge either, and people whose morals are less than perfect seem trustworthy to her. She isn’t the brightest either, and can’t seem to understand that a person is sad. Frankly, she doesn’t seem to think that ‘sad’ exists. For example, if she were to see a person in grief or anger, she would just see this as another form of happiness and carry on like usual. This means that she can’t and won’t show sympathy or empathy.
Powers they previously possessed: Complete Invisibility. As simple as that. However, she can only go invisible for as long as she can hold her breath. People can also still hurt her and feel her.
Pet Peeves: She hates people tapping on things, hates nails on chalkboard and other noises similar. Though I suppose hate is a strong word, because she’s literally never down in the blues.
Weaknesses: She’s kleptomaniac, a person with a severe urge to steal and hoard items with little reason. She is weak physically, and even her personality is also a bit of a weakness.
Backstory (write a short scene where they get caught or imprisoned):
The girl was, quite frankly, hard to notice. You would pass by her on the street, give her a second glance, and then she was gone. As well as your hat, your necklace, and the twenty or so wrappers hiding in your purse.
If she had ever thought of a good reason for stealing, it was about as unknown as the whereabouts of those stolen items. She was, to put it simply, a thief, a hoarder, and a problem to the society. At least, to the glorious leaders of Ruthkirn Haefin.
So, in the afternoon of a should be average day, this said girl went on like usual. She inhaled. She stole. She exhaled. Again and again. Until something out of the norm happened. Someone noticed her.
The guards were quickly called, for this piece of information spread through the crowd like a wildfire. The girl, oblivious to the attention, continued her tasks, until she found her way blocked. By the guards. They took her arms, emptied her pockets, pushed her, laughed at her, their voices and their hands a hurricane of motion.
She was taken into a dark place, with metal bars and strange people. But she smiled, relaxed, acting as if nothing had happened.
“What’s your name?” She said cheerfully, her eyes darting between scraps on the ground. “I’m Olive.”
The guard was unresponsive.
“This place smells quite nice you know.” She waved her hands about, her eyes still attached to the ground. “Old and rustic and used often.”
No response.
“Don’t you like it here?” She lifted her head. “You must like it, seeing how far away you must be from everyone else.” She smiled.
The guard twitched.
Indigo’s Character:
Name: Madeline Hart
Age(15 or older): 16
Gender: female
Appearance: Madeline has straight black hair that runs down her back almost to her elbows, dull green eyes that make her look like she’s always in deep thought, and a slightly downturned mouth with thin lips. She’s tall and slender, partly from the rough treatment of the exile, but rarely looks very attractive either way, as she often forgets to brush her hair or teeth. She dresses in worn and simple but clean clothes and usually has her hair up in a bun or back in two braids.
Personality: Madeline is serious and quiet; she rarely opens up to people, instead keeping her own counsel. This is not to say she is inarticulate or not a good leader; she’s a good leader, but she’s so serious she doesn’t make for a very good friend, and is rarely any fun to be around. She rarely gets angry, but when she does it’s fearsome. Wary, and well aware of all the dangers in the world, but tries to be optimistic and see the bright side of things. Intelligent and well educated.
Powers they previously possessed: Madeline used to be able to transform the best of her drawings into art that was three dimensional and real; the art would not be alive, and would be under her control; if she was devoting her energy to controlling it might respond to questions, but if she wasn’t paying much attention, it would just continue doing as she had left it doing and ignore whatever else was going on. For instance, if she made a miniature dragon illusion that sang and danced and someone hit it but she wasn’t paying attention, it would just keep dancing and singing without reacting.
Pet Peeves: She can’t stand people who spit when they speak or chew with their mouth open; she also hates being dirty for long periods of time; she can endure it easily enough for a little while, but past then being grimey will make her very irritable. She’s also very bad with deep water; all that blue wet stuff freaks her out a bit. Bath tubs are okay, but anything much bigger or much deeper than that is an issue for her.
Weaknesses: A bit of a neat freak and a perfectionist. Bad at picking up social cues for jokes and rarely finds anything funny. Makes rash decisions at times; when she’s angry, she often does something without fully thinking it through. Holds grudges for long periods of times and physically weak; she has good endurance when running but otherwise sucks at all types of exercise or fighting aside from that.
Backstory (write a short scene where they get caught or imprisoned):
They had not expected it to be her, even though in hindsight it had been so obvious, the jury whispered amongst themselves as they ran through the sheets of evidence they had been given. It was so, so obvious, so clear; yet they could still hardly believe it.
She had been such a kind, sweet girl, from a good, rich family that wholly supported the government, as all good citizens should, and had gotten such good grades, her tutors protested, confused. She never had seemed at all crazy, her sister testified; and her art had been so beautiful, who would have thought she would use it for evil?
Madeline, sitting in the chair, reflected that while she did not like the fate that awaited her, the waiting she had to endure during the stupid ceremonial trial was even worse. She sat perfectly still, back perfectly straight; looking about as unlike a mad woman as she possibly could with her hair messed up and paint all over her clothes, popping and fizzing with excess magic.
The crowd, that gilded collection of the wealthy and nobility, many of whom Madeline knew as the parents of that girl in her Mathematics class or this boy in her Ancient History class, some even the parents of her closest friends, were being strung up into greater and greater rage. Once, they had looked at her as that girl at school their children knew; but now they looked at her as if she were a little squashed up spider on the bottom of their shoes.
“AND THIS GIRL, THIS TUH-RAIIIIITOR TO OUR GLOOORIOUS CAUSE, THIS- THIS- ABOMIN-NATION DESERVES NOOOOOOOOTHING LESS THAN THE REMOVAL OF HER TUH-RATIOOOORIOUS MAGIC AND EXILE,” The persecutor roared, to much loud cheering. “AT LEAST THAT WAY SHE CAN CONTRIBUTE SOMETHING TO OUR GREAT NATION!”
Madeline bowed her head and avoided eye contact with her family as she was dragged out, at last crumpling under the weight of the realization of what this really meant.
Katydid’s Character:
Name: Faera Ryoko
Age(15 or older): 16
Gender: Female (Half-dragon)
Appearance: Generally the first thing one would notice about her is the obvious lack of weight. She looks half starved, and extremely small, though she isn’t that short. The second thing someone might notice about her, if they can meet her gaze, is that her eyes are an icy, almost white blue. They stand out upon her face, which is actually startlingly pretty for her lack of weight. She’s got brown hair constantly back in a messy braid, and pieces always frame her face. Scars cover most of her body, but she hides them well.
Personality: Faera is extremely indecisive with her emotions. They are never really good emotions, but she she snaps back between anger and fear, as well as sarcasm. Even the simplest things get rather big outbursts, so she tries to keep her talking low. She’s a fairly negative person, and lapses into long silences of daydreaming often. She doesn’t trust humans, considering they practically ruined her, and the only thing they have caused her is pain. If she willingly makes contact with someone it’s as close to trust as she will get.
Powers they previously possessed: She had the ability to fly, with large silver wings protruding from her back. She was also slightly fire resistant, but not by much.
Pet Peeves: People. Idiotic people. Mistakes. She gets extremely annoyed very easily, even with the smallest of sounds. The only thing that doesn’t annoy her is well-played music, whether it’s a blueish sad song, or a violent red one.
Weaknesses: She’s extremely weak. There is barely any sense of bravery within her sociopathic soul, so she’s a coward.
Backstory (write a short scene where they get caught or imprisoned):
It had all begun with a crash and a bang. Or, rather, ended. Faera wasn’t ready to admit her life was swept away and she wasn’t even close to being prepared to admit something horrific had begun.
She had expected the moment to come for years. She was wasted hours worrying of different ways they might attempt to capture her, and how she could escape from their grasp. When that dreaded occasion finally arrived, although much too soon, it didn’t take her long to realize there wasn’t even a chance of escape.
The men had trailed behind her for hours on their horses, and even with her wings she couldn’t shake off their trail. They were all trained archers, and after a few hours of the chase, even when she had flown higher out of their reach, it took (suggested edit: only) one slip-up for an arrow to penetrate her wing.
The cry of victory below her struck fear into her heart and left her paralyzed. The pain was overpowering on it’s own, but the terror she felt made things much worse. She had known they would catch her, but couldn’t simply believe it until she found herself spiraling towards the ground.
The moment she realized there was no going back, the only bit of hope left inside was the hope that they would fail to catch her.
Even that wasn’t granted.
It had been the last thing she had hoped for, because after that they took away everything. They didn’t even wait to carry her off before injecting her with some sort of serum, which she soon discovered helped her blood replenish, and removing her magic.
When they took away the magic, they stole the dragon part of her. The once magnificent silver wings upon her back melted away, leaving burning scars upon her back. Her blood was still magic, but didn’t do any good.
Then they took away whatever part of her was human. They ripped it to shreds, breaking her beyond healing emotionally. She lost hope only four days into imprisonment, though she would have to agree it had been failing the moment an arrow shot through her wing.
Her personality changed and she lost any attempt to care. No one else mattered but her. All hope was gone, swept away in the dust, and all that remained was a skeleton of a person, filled with anger and regret.
She would daydream constantly about possibilities of freedom. But the difference between wishing and hoping, is that you only believe one of them will happen. The other you know is impossible, and will remain a simple dream.
submitted by Indigo, Katy & Danie
(November 22, 2016 - 2:04 pm)
(November 22, 2016 - 2:04 pm)
Sinn~
People! So many people. He hadn't known the exact amount. How many of these children had been isolated because of their powers or simply their nature? How many were considered dangerous? Which of them should he ally with? Which should he avoid?
Instinctively, Sinn's mind reached out-- but no, mental blockade after mental blockade. The thing with mind reading was, anyone could separate their mind from their body if given enough time. But every brain has an automatic defense system. The gift that he used to have gave you the power to break through it. Just letting his mind loose . . . he could barely stand it. You can't do anything if there's nowhere to go.
There was only one other male in the camp. Sinn was pretty sure of that. And he was not the correct mold: too optimistic, too cheery. Couldn't he see that they were all trapped there, forever? Couldn't he see what he'd lost? Couldn't he see that there was nothing else to live for?
He was just like the other girl, the one with hair like a pigeon's. Not as bad, Sinn supposed, because the boy at least wasn't running up to people with a big fat smile on his face. The boy was more eloquent. He understood people better. And maybe, just maybe, if Sinn could have his power back they might get along . . .
So many times Sinn had stood in front of an audience with that expensive glass of wine in his hand, seeking out a common preference. So many times he'd hung around afterwards to find someone to walk home. But he was a different person now. That was below him now.
Sinn found the cabin without the girl-- unfortunately, it was the cabin with the boy. It really couldn't be helped. He didn't really care. But his mind changed that night, when the boy started pressing everyone for names and histories.
Sinn found out his name was Kiepher Fawkes. His previous interpretation of the boy was wrong. He was outgoing and cheerful and laughed at the wrong times. He switched emotions so quickly that even with his powers Sinn doubted he could read him.
There was one person, though, who caught Sinn's eye. He wasn't sure why: she was almost unstable, she snapped too quickly. In different circumstances they would hate each other. But there were things that sometimes people couldn't explain, and this attraction was one of them. Her name was Faera. He didn't know if he should hate or love her.
But finally it came along to his turn, and Sinn hesitated for a moment, trying to think of something to do. Should he flat-out refuse, as some had done? Say his name grudgingly? Or explain?
He was going to go with the former until a thought hit him suddenly. They're leaving us alone for a week. Maybe our powers will come back.
It was unexpected and illogical, but it cheered Sinn for some reason he couldn't understand, so he said, "I'm Sinn. I lived in London. I was arrested for killing an enforcer."
What else was there to say?
~~~
The next day he set out alone. Sinn had considered inviting Faera with him, but he realized how it would turn out: they either wouldn't talk at all, or argue. If Sinn was one thing, it was accepting of himself, and he had just as much of a temper as the girl; it would be impossible to stop them once they got started.
He didn't really collect anything; rather Sinn ate as he went. He didn't know much about plants except those small round red berries were bad and not to eat mushrooms, and however much he didn't care about them, Sinn wasn't ready to murder any of the people he had to live with. They were just sad and broken, like him. The enforcer he had strangled had attacked him first. It was a mutual fight to the death. It was just that Sinn had won.
But in any case the point was Sinn would rather poison himself than any of the people back there. He didn't care if he died anymore, but there must have been one or two that did. So he had decided that he would come back with nothing in order to not endanger anyone.
He had really meant it, too.
But something changed his mind.
The bird had heard him coming, and it drooped its long neck so he was face-to-face with it. It hung upside down, its feathers a rainbow of colors so violent it pained Sinn to look at them.
"Hello, Sinn," said the bird calmly. One talon reached down to its beak and it swallowed a large, brightly colored fruit. "Lost, are you?"
He stared at the bird, shocked, and the first thing that came to him was self-defense. "No, of course not."
"Please don't lie, it's very tiresome," replied the bird. "And please don't keep calling me that. I am a Sidja. We are not 'just birds.'"
"Oh, um, sorry?" Sinn hadn't been in such awe since, well, never.
"It's not right to keep all the food for yourself and not bring any back to your friends. Everything you've eaten so far is fine. You're safe, no matter how much you wish otherwise. There's a blackberry bush across this path; bring the berries back, your friends will appreciate it."
"They're not my friends," said Sinn hesitantly.
"You'd be surprised. You certainly don't think of Faera as a foe."
His ears were pink. "Um, excuse me, I'd better go get those berries--"
"Yes, of course. I'll move out of your way. But watch your step from now on. You're going into a field. If you walk halfway across, you'll see poppies-- go no further, they put you to sleep. Follow the edge of the poppies until you reach the woods again. There will be a path that will bring you only a quick few minutes away from your camp site."
"Well, I owe you a great debt," said Sinn, realizing suddenly that the Sidja was right and he was lost. "But why are you helping me? I certainly don't deserve it."
The bird shrugged, huge feathered wings fluttering. "The future will tell. I see good in you. However, it remains to be seen if you will quench it or let it alight."
It swooped off its branch and into the trees. Sinn watched it go, brilliant feathers sparkling in the noontime sun's light.
He walked a few paces. Blackberry bush.
~~~~
"This path seems to go on forever," said Sinn aloud.
The Sidja hadn't mentioned a fork in the road. Sinn had chosen left, but he had definitely not been walking "a few paces." After tripping every five feet in that field, twisting his ankle, and being accosted by a truly frightening creature that seemed to be protecting its tree for all it was worth, he was tired, worn out, and ready to just collapse on his bunk. But the trees were closing in behind him; Sinn's heart was thumping in his chest. He didn't dare turn around.
But still, there were more of those creatures, dancing along with their trees, masks of bark ever grinning . . .
Instinct took hold of him, and Sinn turned on his heel and ran.
It took five minutes, but soon he was bolting up the right fork, imagining (or not!) the sounds of footsteps behind him, those masked creatures, chasing their prey. But finally he found the cabins and halted behind them, turning.
The trees blew, though there was no wind.
There were no creatures.
Were those eyes peeking out of the canopies?
He marched into camp, heart busting out of his chest, but finally feeling a little safer.
__
Okay, wow, that was long. I had a lot planned. My comment about the mind-reading I hope you don't mind (waaaay up at the beginning there); the idea is, because Sinn's mind was so used to flitting into others', it still automatically searches, but there's no way for him to use his power because of the blockades. No shortcuts; there is absolutely nothing he can do with it.
I hope I used the Sidja right. I decided, y'know, forest, we've gotta have a magical creature in there somewhere.
(December 12, 2016 - 12:06 pm)
Darn it, Stowl. You just had to come along and top my amazing word count with a giant wall of text. XD. No worries, it was good.
Update on plot!
This isn't quite an update on plot but I'm not sure what to say, so I'll just call it that. For everyone who is confused, the goverment and sailors will come back every other week. Whatever magic we have collected can be traded for food from them. We are not shipwrecked here, but imprisoned.
We stumbled across an old village and now some people can start fixing it up.
Thos who aren't fixing the cabins can either start searching for food or join Somnia in a quest for magic.
Also, for those still at the small village, it seems like a dragon has attacked. What will we do, and how will we handle it?
~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay so for the magic hunting, we have to gather it from the blood of magical creatures and things on the island. Somnia has a brief manual with everything, and she can lead a group to get magic the first time.
Day 2 in the roleplay~
So we are on day 2 on the island. We arrived yesterday, and today we need to accomplish fixing up cabins,gathering some food for a dinner, and collecting magic. We also have a dragon we need to defeat that has attacked, and none of us really have any idea how to defeat it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay I hope this helps. I might try to write a post really quick, though it shant be to long, to explain the whole dragon situation.
(December 12, 2016 - 12:51 pm)
Faera~
She wasn't sure where that sudden surge of warmth came from. Even as she turned around and caught sight of a flaming dragon, she knew it hadn't come from the fire. Rather something sparked within her and she watched it in awe.
It was beautiful.
The dark, blood red scales flickered and reflected every bit of light there was. She couldn't help but smile despite other's panicked cries.
The smile faded shortly after she realized they were trying to kill it. Her breathing hitched and she found herself running forward, crying out for them to stop. The pathetic spears they found weren't anywhere close to a death blow, but they still sent pangs of fear through her. "Stop! Stop!"
Her voice was weak, but some heard, and when she tried again everything seemed to pause. "STOP!" The pain she somehow managed to relay had startled everything. THe dragon had been about to charge them, but it paused, tilting it's head quietly to the side as it stared at her.
She motioned for it to follow and ran away from the huts, still having some sense of logic. Something was off about the whole situation when it followed. The others were greatly confused, but followed behind a ways, watching the girl dig her heels into the sand and turn around.
Her mind was running far faster then she ever could, so the girl just stopped altogether. She faced the massive creature, pausing her breathing as it landed directly in front of her. It slowly inched forward, lowering it's head to sniff her scent on the wind.
She smelled like a dragon, but she looked like one of the humans.
Faera couldn't not look into it's intelligent eyes. They were entrancing, and danced with the lively fire it breathed. The heat radiating off of it was almost overpowering, but it didn't stop her from reaching out to it.
They were extremely close to one another, and it stretched just a little more to press it's nose against her hand. It's scales burned her flesh, but she held there for a moment longer befor the pain forced her to let out a cry.
The dragon's roar was in unison and completely erased the pained niose she made as someone stabbed it with a spear in the side.
~~~~~~~~~~
I...really think this seems a bittt OP, but it makes sense in my head. She had magical dragon blood, so the dragon just got super confused and tried to get closer. It was a good distraction though so someone could stab and kill it!
And....just for future reference, she probably won't ever get so close to a dragon again. But she might be useful when hunting them? I don't know....
But it's dead....? And her hand is burned....
Guys if I am making Faera too OP please let me know. I'll make her shy away from anything big in the future.
(December 12, 2016 - 1:09 pm)
I don't think it's too OP. Personally, I think it'll probably make some really good drama later on in the RP.
(December 12, 2016 - 4:05 pm)
I think it's fine! And does anyone mind if I was the one who stabbed the dragon?
~Siren Shallows
The dragon was following her. The dragon was going to kill her! This was bad...really bad...But, no, as I watched for a little longer I saw the dragon didn't have that look in its eyes. That look of kill. That aggresive look that kills your sole before it kills your flesh. It looked intrested. Intreaged. Almost a little bit of sympathey.
No, they were working together. They were allies. Or would be soon. This was bad. Verrrry bad. Shemay have the dragon kill us all!
A memory flashed before my eyes. Swimming up through the water. Dragon's talons reaching for me. Everything in slow motion....vision falturing....daggerslipping from hands and drifting down into the dark blue bellow.
I clenched my fits as I shook off the thought. I hate dragons. Looking around, I spotted an oddly angled rusted spear, and acting fast, grabbed the splintering wooden hilt. A tab larger and bulkeyer then a dagger, but it should do. I ran up to the dragon, which was now bonding with the girl, and quickly jamed the spear into its side. Scales splintered away, and red hot blood ozzed from the wound. I kept pushing, and the dragon roared in angishing pain. The wood I was holding started to wither and blacken, and I let go with one last shove.
The dragon spread its wings, and I fell back onto my rear in shock. I could feal the heat of the dragon, and blisters started to form on my fingers from being so close to it.
It turned its menevolent yellow gaze on me and strained back, but seemed unable to move. It bellowed smoke in my face and I could feal the burning pressence of its heat.
It stood there for a long moment, glaring into my odd eyes. Then it shook it's head and turned, flying lopsidedly into the distance. "What was that...?" I mummbled.
I turned my head and was face to face with the girl allied with the dragon, her face and eyes somehow reminding me of the dragon I was just staring into. She glared at me and said....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alright, you can continue this! Also, one quick question.
Maybe since she only got her magic taken out once or twice, she still has a little siren blood left in her? So maybe she can sing and everyone would stop for a second or something like that. But nothing much. And maybe the mythical creatures won't mess with her because she looks and smells like a Siren, and they don't mess with sirens. I know it sounds a little OP, and I am pretty possitive you'll all dissaprove. Just a thought. ;)
And Katydid, maybe Faera and Siren can be friends? You know...half-bloods and all. ;)
(December 12, 2016 - 5:50 pm)
You know that might work out...except not sure how she will take to you killing the dragon, ;) Also, like, with the siren thing, I would imagine she still has a beautiful wonderful singing voice, though it just doesn't have magic. And regarding the half-blood thing, are you saying she had a little bit ot magic in her blood?
Because Faera basically doesn't have blood, it's literally magic, and why they harvest her, :D
Okay I'll write really quick.
Faera~
Her face fell at the painstaking roar and she jumped back, clutching her burnt hand to her chest. It stung, but it wasn't the things that almost brought tears to her eyes. It was dead.
Her gaze skimmed around, looking for the culprit, and soon it fell upon a gorgeous girl who sat unceremoniously. They met eachother's gaze and Faera felt anger bubbling up in side of her. She didn't even want to glance toward the dead dragon. She opened her mouth a couple times, failing to produce any sound. Her words were caught in her throat and she was torn between screaming and just breaking down in frustration.
She didn't feel like doing either, so soon her footsteps were thudding upon the ground in silence. She didn't even feel the burning in he hand anymore, and her cabin was so close. There was no sense in knocking on the rickety door and she pulled it open with her good hand, slamming it shut behind her.
Dust fell from the ceiling but she didn't really notice, her face already buried in her hands, one of which continued to sizzle.
~~~
I wrote this on my kindle don't judge. Il let other people write noowww.
And yes.
Faera is crying.
(December 12, 2016 - 7:17 pm)
I'm confused, I thought Siren just LOOKED like a siren, not WAS a siren...
(December 12, 2016 - 9:15 pm)
Sorry this is so short. It’s really hard to write Somnia, because she doesn’t have the usual snarkiness of my characters, and she’s depressed and sad. Somnia leaves the campsite before the attack happens, so I’m probably messing up continuity even more. .
Somnia~ Somnia frowned as she was tossed the “manual”, a barely helpful guide that ended in saying “death is probably inevitable. Try to stave it off for as long as you can.”
She really, in the end, didn’t much care what happened to herself, but things looked grim. She couldn’t lead people, because anything she did would led to them getting hurt. Somnia could never trust herself ever again. When she tried to help, she only destroyed.
Her name meant something like beautiful dreamer. Dreaming, perhaps, that none of this had ever happened. But that was something that was impossible. She remembered someone telling her that impossible is only impossible if you believe it is. If only.
Somnia stood up and brushed off the dust that had settled on her long grey skirt.
“Does anyone care to go with me?” She spoke softly and looked around the campsite. A few people stirred, and she looked at them, gestured into the woods, and walked into the comfort of the forest, hoping that no one decided to follow her.
(December 12, 2016 - 9:12 pm)
@St.Owl You protrayed the Sidja perfectly. I loved your post!
@Claaws You were correct in your guess about how I'd feel about this.
.:Madeline:.
Madeline gently removed her foot from the grass' grasp and took another step at which point the grass promptly wrapped itself around her toes once more. Madeline sighed, and shook her foot to get the grass to let go.
So far the most magical thing Madeline had encountered had been an odd woman with what looked like a face of bark, and even this from a distance. Goose flesh constanly prickled across Madeline's arms, but she battled on. She had collected some berries from a bush one of the boys- Elbow or Shin or something, she thought his name was- had pointed out to her, but what they all really needed was to find some water.
Madeline's legs were growing tired, so with a sigh she turned away to return to the camp. Besides, it looked like there was a storm gathering; and since she hadn't found any water, they should try and collect some rain water to drink until they did find somewhere proper to drink.
Madeline had tied a strip of cloth to a little creeper or tree of whatever she passed. She didn't dare to make a mark in the tree itself, as she had first considered; when she had reached to touch a tree, it had seemed to curve ever so slightly away. Madeline didn't want to make any enemies.
As she moved through the forest, she untied all of the strips, then knotted them so they hung around her wrist like a series of bracelets. Everything, including the clothes they wore, were precious; she couldn't let anything go to waste.
Madeline felt a hint of rain beginning to fall, and started hurrying into the clearing, running so lightly and swiftly the grass didn't even get a chance to get a hold of her feet. She could feel magical pressure building, stretching almost to the breaking point. Madeline ran into the clearing just in time to slide to a stop at the foot of a dragon.
Before Madeline had a chance to register more than a flurry of vague observations- scales scales flames nose touching what's her face- someone stabbed the dragon in the side. Hard. The dragon gurgled and there was crimson bubbling stuff everywhere and the storm broke, smelling of magic and blood and Madeline forced herself to turn away from all the blood and grabbed the cooking point they had found in some of the rubbish near the camp and set it up to catch some water. Someone else would have to deal with the dragon, Madeline couldn't.
(December 12, 2016 - 9:42 pm)
Here goes...
~Emmy
As I stare at the magnificent dragon, out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl running away. Well, not really. Just into her cabin. I crept close to the dragon. Another boy was there also, Sinn, I think, but he isn't looking at the dragon. He's gazing at the cabin were the girl had run. I inched closer, a small smile creeping onto my face. I pull a knife from my pocket and carefully cut a few scales off. I hesitate before doing what I'll do next. The scales shimmer with heat, dangerous and beautiful. In them, I see my own reflection. Who am I. Definetly not the pickpocketing person I was before. Am I beautiful? Probably not. Pretty? IDK. But if I'm going to stay here for the rest of my life, I might as well try to be kind. I fasten the scales to a stick, and slip them into Sinn's bag. I wonder if he'll actually give them to the girl.
Who am I?
Am I the wind on autum days?
Who am I?
Can I change in many diffrent ways?
Who am I?
What is left of me now?
Who am I?
(December 13, 2016 - 9:02 am)
(December 13, 2016 - 6:40 pm)
Alrighty, that's what I thought you would say. But, ya I guess she is half Siren...well I was sorrta planing to let her find out sometime, but....I guess she doesn't have to be part siren. IDK, it just goes with her hypmotizing powers and looks and stuff, and I was reading the Oddessy with the sirens and all and she sorrta had lots of the characturistics of a siren. So I thought maybe she could be part siren? With like, actual magic in her blood. But no one knows because the people who have gotten to close to her were hypmotised and forgat everything. And maybe she does have a good sinning voice because of that? And maybe the magical creatures are afraid of her? Ya, its probably a no. But always worth to ask, right?
Anyway, the dragon died, right? Sorry I wrote that wrong...I thought he didn't die. Maybe the spear didn't hit an important orgain?
Maybe Faera somehow forgives Siren and they sorrta become friends because, well maybe they get trapped in a cabin together and half to bond to get out? Or maybe they share the same cabin?
Tell me what you think!
(December 13, 2016 - 8:16 pm)
Hey Admins! Could you change Emmy's poem to this:
Who am I?
Am I a flower in the light?
Who am I?
Am I a spark that helps ignite?
Who am I?
Am I one to bring down rain?
Who am I?
Thank you!
(December 14, 2016 - 10:29 am)
(December 15, 2016 - 11:01 am)
Heeeeyyyy ... Guys ... Sorry if you didn't see ... but *gulps* I might be leaving. Do what you want with Wren, I probably won't be back. Love and miss y'all already. *hugs*
Bye.
(December 15, 2016 - 2:55 pm)