CanaryCry
Typin words til they make sense
Hello and welcome! Some ideas have been rolling around in my head so I thought I'd put them out there and see if anyone’s interested!
About Me: 30 y/o, female, West Coast US. Prefer to Rp in PMs, but can do threads as well.
Looking for M/F or platonic pairings, can play either gender or double, depending on partner preference.
Most of my ideas involve superpowers or magic of some sort, as that's what I like to use to spice things up, but it doesn’t have to be the main focus of the rp, and I prefer romance to be a more natural, slow burn rather than instantaneous soulmates.
Send me a PM if you’re interested in any of the characters below, or propose your own ideas if you like my style but are craving something else! Most characters and ideas are largely open to discussion and change, as I’m perfectly willing to adjust details about them and their worlds and can adapt them to fit scenarios you have in mind as well. Will update with more as I think of them and have time to type it up, so let me know if you like them!
What you can expect from me~
-Semi-frequent to frequent OOC chatter
-Anywhere from 2-10 paragraphs per post, depending on what’s happening in the rp and what length my partner prefers
-Literate to advanced, I think?? Full sentences of varied lengths, with proper paragraph breaks and punctuation
-Posting speed of once every 2-4 days, though occasionally more or less frequent
What I'm looking for in a partner~
-Over the age of 18
-A firm grasp of spelling and grammar, though mistakes here and there are normal
-Willing to help plot and discuss ideas
-2+ paragraphs per post
-Hopefully one reply a week, with a preference for more
About Me: 30 y/o, female, West Coast US. Prefer to Rp in PMs, but can do threads as well.
Looking for M/F or platonic pairings, can play either gender or double, depending on partner preference.
Most of my ideas involve superpowers or magic of some sort, as that's what I like to use to spice things up, but it doesn’t have to be the main focus of the rp, and I prefer romance to be a more natural, slow burn rather than instantaneous soulmates.
Send me a PM if you’re interested in any of the characters below, or propose your own ideas if you like my style but are craving something else! Most characters and ideas are largely open to discussion and change, as I’m perfectly willing to adjust details about them and their worlds and can adapt them to fit scenarios you have in mind as well. Will update with more as I think of them and have time to type it up, so let me know if you like them!
What you can expect from me~
-Semi-frequent to frequent OOC chatter
-Anywhere from 2-10 paragraphs per post, depending on what’s happening in the rp and what length my partner prefers
-Literate to advanced, I think?? Full sentences of varied lengths, with proper paragraph breaks and punctuation
-Posting speed of once every 2-4 days, though occasionally more or less frequent
What I'm looking for in a partner~
-Over the age of 18
-A firm grasp of spelling and grammar, though mistakes here and there are normal
-Willing to help plot and discuss ideas
-2+ paragraphs per post
-Hopefully one reply a week, with a preference for more
What I’ve really been thinking is an old story I started to write and never really did anything with that's just coming back to mind lately. The main hook for the world was that there were people around with gifts/superpowers up against creatures I called amalgamates. The amalgamates were basically a 'heart', or small central core, which would pull in and control materials from around them to make themselves bodies, anything from rock or wood, metal or plastic (or if you want to get real dark about it maybe even bones). Something or someone happened that caused these creatures to begin waking up and wreaking havoc as they came back to life, leading to the increasing need for those with strong enough gifts to be trained up to take them on.
The characters I’d envisioned were kind of oddball childhood friends who met in an orphanage and latched on to each other, especially after an amalgamate event that destroyed the building and left them the only two alive.
- Meeka, whose ability was similar to teleportation, had an amalgamates heart fuse with her hand, which would have eventually led to her both being able to defeat them more easily than others and to start understanding them, perhaps even controlling them or putting them back to sleep.
- Bronner (childhood friend), who could put an impenetrable shield over his body and basically became her protector and partner in crime, his powers also being a part of how the heart fused with her hand.
- Arwyn (new guy) came in when they were adults, working with the same agency that recruited them and often getting sent on missions with either or both of them. He could enhance his own physical strength for a limited time, or else boost someone else's to aid them instead.
The hook for their character dynamics was that Meeka was always a bit distant from emotions or didn’t show them much, so even though Bronner grew up loving her it was never clear if she liked him romantically, and then later in life when Arwyn rolled around she let him get close to her more quickly than expected, to 'court her', if you will. It wouldn’t have to be a huge love triangle/rivalry issue if that’s not your thing, since Bronner always just wanted the best for her and Arwyn’s a good dude and wouldn’t stop her from going back to him if she decided that was what she wanted, that was just sort of their dynamic as I imagined them.
I’m looking for someone to play one of the boys and have fun fleshing out the world a bit with me Names, ages and other personal dynamics up for discussion so the character would still be your own, but that's the gist of the idea. In the next tab you’ll find a writing sample in the form of the 'beginning' of the story, when Meeka gets a heart fused to her hand.
The building was gone. It was all Meeka could think of with the fire all around her, dancing bright orange in the night. Where her home had been there was nothing left but broken beams, turning to ashes.
Bronner was holding her right hand, the bright blue of his shield extending weightlessly over her skin until she too was covered, impervious to the flame, to the falling pieces of their home, but with her lungs still aching for clean air. They had to get out, get free before he couldn’t keep up the effort of protecting them both. She should have gotten them out sooner, she thought. She should have figured out how to jump someone with her by now - but she hadn’t, and she couldn’t leave without him. Maybe if she had tried harder to learn, the others wouldn’t have died.
When they stumbled past the rubble and out onto the street, the amalgamate was still there, a beast towering ten feet tall, made of metal and wires that still sparked here and there. It had taken the power lines and transformers, ripped the nails and the wires and the structure out of neighboring buildings and was forming a body almost humanoid in shape. Two legs, two arms, a body to tie it together, and buried in the center of it all a glowing green heart.
“I can get it.” She was still coughing as she picked her way as quickly as possible over smoldering debris in the street, holding tightly to his hand. “In the middle. I can get it.”
“Are you crazy?” He snapped back, looking over his shoulder at her as he pulled her forward, desperate for somewhere safe to hide, to rest. “It’ll take your head off!”
“It opens and closes,” She panted, trying to watch the way the amalgamate’s newly formed body moved even as they ran. It was pulling in more metal still, tearing down more buildings, sparking more fires. “If I jump right to it - There’s enough time.”
“Meeka, no,” He insisted, shaking his head desperately even as he slowed, turning to take a firmer hold of her arm. “Not you, too!”
There were wet streaks down the soot covering his blue cheeks, thin lines she could barely see reflected in the light of the fires. Why wasn’t she crying, too?
“I can do it.” She pulled back against his grip, brought them to a stop even though they were almost free of the danger, almost safe. “I can be fast enough.”
There was no one else to do it. No saviors. No warriors. Just the two of them, among the others screaming and running who had been lucky enough not to get sawed in half by the metal torn from every building, or crushed by the weight of their own home collapsing. The other children were gone. The orphanage workers were gone. Meeka and Bronner were only alive because he had suddenly - miraculously - figured out how to expand his shield from his body to hers and protect them both.
“It isn’t fast enough!” He cried, his grip so tight around her arm she thought it would have bruised if he hadn’t still been shielding her. “It’ll kill you, too!”
“When things are in its way, it slows down.” Everything was too loud, too bright to count the seconds, but she could still see an opening. “If we can distract it, I can be fast enough.”
She had seen it before, never in person but in videos, in news reports. The heroes always cut through to the amalgamate’s heart to stop it. She was not a hero, and she was not strong enough to get through the metal still being shaped into its body, but the heart itself was fragile. She could teleport herself close enough to take advantage of her own small arms and reach inside where the creature was vulnerable. If she could just get her hand to it, she could crush the heart, she was sure of it.
There was a protest on Bronner’s lips, more screaming, more crying, but before him Meeka was as quiet and sure as she had been since the day they’d met, and he found himself turning to look at the thing that had slaughtered their friends, destroyed their home. Possibilities. She always saw the possibilities, faster than he did.
“It’ll cut off your head,” He said again, quiet in the chaos, fingers curling ever tighter around her hand. “If you try to reach the middle and it moves . . . it’ll cut off your head.”
She nodded, watching the creature with him and offering no protest. If she were a fraction of a second too slow it would take her arm, if not her head and shoulder as well. “I have to jump twice. I can be fast enough.” To it, away from it, in fractions of a second. She had to muster enough force to break the heart quickly and jump away again.
It didn’t feel real. Bronner looked at her, fear and pain in his eyes, and something mournful, as if she were already gone. Then they were running again.
There was no time to think of a plan, and they were too young to know how to fight, had only just begun learning the basics of their gifts. Hand in hand, they ran into the whirlwind of destruction with Bronner’s shield the only thing keeping them safe. They shouted with what little breath they could steal past the smoke in their lungs, waved their arms in the air, threw whatever pieces of debris they could manage to pick up on their way. Anything to get its attention.
When the amalgamate turned to look at a nearby bicycle, perhaps the only thing it hadn’t yet pulled into its body in a hundred foot radius, it spotted them. Meeka’s hand remained in Bronner’s for perhaps a second more before he was left shaking and alone in the middle of a ruined street, watching her reappear in the air at the monster’s side.
She had meant for her path to go around it, to bring her right next to it so her arm could fit through the gap she had spotted, but instead it felt as if she had crossed right through it, inside of it, her left hand pressed deep into the flowing metal as if it weren’t moving at all. The heart of it cast green light inside its body, but she could still see the blue of Bronner’s shield shrinking away towards her fingertips as she reached for it, closer and closer, like time standing still.
Some days later, she would describe the feeling as cold and warm, like lightning and ice in her veins at once.
When Meeka woke, it was to the sound of Bronner and any survivors well enough to assist digging her free of the lifeless pile of scrap metal the amalgamate had become, pulling her to relative safety to wait for the distant sounds of rescue to reach them. With the light of burning rubble fading around them, and with Bronner’s skin no longer blue, it became clear that his shield remained on her left forearm despite their being apart for long minutes already. In the middle of her blue palm, drawn in glowing green ink, were the patterns she had only moments before seen etched into the amalgamate’s heart. From that night onwards, she would carry it with her always.
Meeka and Bronner had been left alone in a small hospital room, secluded away from the others involved in the latest amalgamate attack that had destroyed their home. She had cried, finally, when the dust had settled and confused paramedics had been left trying to figure out how to fix her hand. Cried for the home she had lost, for the children and caretakers that had died.
Bronner had wiped his own tears away and held her hand, the one that still looked like flesh and blood, and hadn’t spoken a word to make anything feel better. He didn’t know what would happen to them, or if her hand would ever return to normal, and he couldn’t raise the dead. What could he say?
“You were very brave.”
Bronner looked up from where he had perched on the side of Meeka’s bed as a woman entered, taking in the pressed suit and dress shoes, the carefully pinned back hair, and the duffle bag she carried with her. “You’re not a doctor.”
Nurses and doctors had come already and tried to take him away. He had done the only thing he could - covered his skin in blue, held up untrained fists in an uncertain stance, and told them they could try to make him. No one had managed to separate them yet, and he wouldn’t let this new Suit do it either.
The woman smiled, polite and gentle. “No. My name is Tara Marist. I represent the Gypaetus House. We sponsor heroes and rescuers.” She dared take a small step further into the room, closing the door behind her, but didn’t come any closer than that. “We heard what you both did to stop the amalgamate before anyone else could reach you. You saved a lot of lives. You should feel proud.”
They had only been in the hospital for half a day. Bronner didn’t understand how anyone could have known so quickly. He couldn’t make sense of the woman, and he shared a brief look with Meeka, lying tired and drawn next to him. She was only observing, saying nothing, and he was sure he looked as exhausted as she did. Dark circles around haunted eyes.
“I don’t understand.” He didn’t feel proud. He felt tired, and sad, and angry. He just wanted to go home, but there was no home to go to anymore. “Why are you here? We’re not heroes. We’re just . . . kids.”
He had rushed headlong towards that monster because it had caused him pain and he was angry, and he had wanted to do all he could to keep his friend from dying. That wasn’t heroic. That was fear. That was revenge.
“You are,” Tara agreed, her tone soft, and more comforting than he would ever admit, “and you have been through a tragedy that no one should ever have to face. But you faced it with courage, and you should feel proud.” She watched them with an expression he could only describe as sad for a moment, then turned to look through her bag. “I brought you some things. Fresh clothes. And this.”
She held out what Bronner thought was a small scarf, at first, but when he took it he found it was a long, black glove instead. He turned to meet Meeka’s eyes again, a mutual suspicion passing between them even as he handed the glove to her and let her put it on, let her cover up the bright blue of her own hand.
How had they known about it so fast? Did everyone know? What would happen to the two of them? There were too many unanswered questions.
“The Gypaetus House has many resources,” Tara said, either oblivious to the sudden tension or ignoring it on purpose. “Most recently we have begun using those resources to open a home for displaced young ones like yourself. We would like to help the two of you find a new home, somewhere where there are caretakers experienced in using their gifts, and in helping others to develop their own.”
He tensed, fingers curling into the edge of the hospital bed, and wanted nothing more than to tell her to leave because he knew the offer would come with strings. Nothing was ever given out for free, and they didn’t need help. They had been learning their gifts just fine. They would survive together, like they had since they were little kids.
And yet. Social Services would throw them wherever there was space, and this woman wanted them for something. He didn’t know what it was yet, but it was definitely something. It could give them leverage. It could keep them together.
Bronner turned when he felt Meeka take his hand, his expression gone soft and worried. She was watching him, waiting for him to make a decision with newly gloved fingers curled tight around his. Trusting him to judge for them both if this woman was safe because she could never tell. He couldn’t fail her.
“We’ll go.” He turned to face Tara finally, determined and very scared, and trying not to show it. “But only if you promise we get to stay together, no matter what.”
She smiled and extended a hand. “I promise. With the Gypaetus House, you need never be separated.”
He was only a child, just 13 years old, but he knew that one handshake was going to change his already shaken world forever. It didn’t matter. No matter what came next, they would face it together.
Kalder is a duty-focused dragon rider with a hardy disposition. He worked for his father when he was young because it was his place in the family, went off to a Dragonry to train once his dragon chose him because there aren't a great number of proper riders in the world and he knew they could be of use to others, and agreed to have his and his dragon's services bartered away to a neighboring kingdom in exchange for help for the Dragonry because he decided he could take it better than others, so why not him. A bit directionless in life, in that he goes where others tell him and doesn’t think about himself enough. (Storyline subject to change)
His magic: creating weapons from pure energy. How big or how many is limited by how much energy his body is storing at the moment - if he runs out the weapons go away, or else he'll knock himself out trying to maintain them.
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