• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern Remember Our Name

TheFallOfitAll

TheFallOfitAll

A Ghost of RpN's Past
No matter what they say, no matter what they do, I will keep going until I draw my last breath, until my body truly gives out on me. I will do my best for all I hold dear, who I hold close. If you are a friend of a friend, you are a friend, and you are Family. And I will do all I can to help in this crazy, evil filled world.


These are the words of someone who was near and dear to my heart, and I now hate to inform you that she has passed on, to greater and better pastures than we have to deal with. But like my friend, My family and I will continue her legacy. I am Naomi Monroe, the new leader of a group that our friend called the Short Change Gang, be it that we're broke, or that there were few of us, that is what she called it. And that's the name that shall be kept. No matter who you are, you've heard a call for greatness deep within you, even if you've never met myself or my siblings in person. There is something inside of you, that yearns for more, to not be ignored.


That very feeling is one I feel, that my friend had, each one of us is destined for greatness. For I fear, and I know each one of you know this fear, that there is something evil coming, growing. I'm not sure what it was, but my friend felt it, and she knew that someone had to stand up and do something. And now that she's gone, I'm here left in the wake she left. I'm here to stay, and stand up against it! Will you join me?! Be you normal, or be you one who's abilities defy the Gods! I call upon you to aid us in this endeavor, for we are the young! We are the leaders of tomorrow! We are the fearless who spit into the eye of evil!!!!!!!


Although you may not have heard her speech, though you may not know she lives and breathes, you will. You are someone who is destined for greatness, as are the rest of those soon to join the Short Change Gang, and those who are in it, Naomi, Tiera, Jack, and James. Your name could be added to that list, so how's about it?


Alright people, this here RP is unique, and one I've been wanting to do. it is to follow a group of young people, some with powers, and some not, on their journey from a small group of people, into heroes. These are the kind who will face anything, from other people with powers, to demons and the like. You could even face your own father!


All you need is the willingness to fight, or help out. You could be the damned medic, or the cook, or...You get the idea!


If you have a hero and a villain, I'd like it that your hero has to fight the villain. Like, everyone can fight them, but your character has to overcome.


the-city-of-roan-png.62292



The top is the North, bottom south. You should be able to do East and West on your own.


The pictures represent something. An area. The woods are the woods, and they span for miles. Same with the hills. Bridges are bridges.


Mansion is the uber rich area. Skyscraper is the office buildings. High schools are all over. The factory and park are abandoned. There's roads and stuff. Very simple map to go off of.


ALL RPN RULES APPLY!!!!!!!

  1. Everything you know about things not being practical should be kicked out the window now. Almost anything you think would work, will work as long as you run it by me in PM's. Wanna use two self loading RPG's at once? Make sure with me, and I'll give you the go ahead.
  2. You can have four powers max, but at this point, you have a weakness. Like, if you control lightning, and you strike yourself, it's going to hurt, not fuel you up. It's like a video game, YOU GOTTA RANK UP! You gotta unlock that ability.
  3. You can have as many characters as you can handle. But beware, if you feel you can't handle them, they may die.
  4. Death very well may happen. In fact, it will. Villains, watch out! Death awaits you!
  5. I want you to have fun, this RP is meant to be over the top and follow the Rule of Cool! It is meant to give you chills upon reading someone's badass speech.
  6. Romance is allowed, but keep it PG. Your characters are no older than sixteen right now.
  7. As the RP goes on, I expect the enemies to become harder, save for the mooks. At first, mooks ain't mooks. And the Big Bad? There are only a few who I would allow to be taken down by one character. And that's with help.
  8. If you have read the rules, in your character sheet, list your character's favorite food.
  9. As the RP ages, so do the characters. So, the rating of the RP will go up, if it lasts long enough, it may swap to M for Mature.
  10. Your character's do not need to be super-powered. But they have to be something. I don't care, be a half demon for all I care, if they want to do good, they're fine by me.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Fall updated Remember Our Name with a new update entry:


Rule Change

I have changed one of the rules, and something about my own characters.
After a conversation with a particular friend of mine, I have removed mythology aspects from the RP, but Christianity still stands in, as there are demons. Just, a different take on them, but with respect to the religion.


That is all. Please make due, and I am sorry if you were making an Irish Thor child.
Click to expand...
Read the rest of this update entry...
 
Fall updated Remember Our Name with a new update entry:


Location, Short Change Gang, Yada Yada

Okay People. The location of my four character at the moment ins a field in California where they are burying their friend. It'll get better, trust me.
The Short Change Gang is known to no one. The only people who know of it are my four characters, and the current villain. Who is going to be everyone's villain because he killed who would have been your leader.


Yep. Get ready.
Click to expand...
Read the rest of this update entry...
 
Fall updated @Alad V @PicaPirate @Darth Pai @Britt-21 @Toaster Muffins @King Of Imagination


I suggest you lot read the above updates before you post. HERE WE GO!


Bury Her Not, On The Lone Prairie




​



The grave was one which was unique, and different. A shotgun, pump action, sticking out of the grave to mark where she was, a black zip up hoodie tied to the gun, waving in the wind like some strange flag. One hole visible through the jacket, where the shot which had brought an end to her life had hit. Despite the jacket already being jet black, the area about the hole seemed to be even darker than the rest of the jacket. The grave was shallow, as the ground was frozen, and it had been difficult to remove the Earth of the area they had chosen. The idea of using rocks had been tossed around, but picking up rocks to desecrate the dead would have been easier than having to use a shovel to uncover her. Though, her grave was not easily found, the field which it were upon was hidden behind a forest, and few ever trekked through those woods, in fear of what may dwell within.


Around this unusual marker, four people stood. Those who were closer to the dead than any other living person could ever have claimed to have been. First, was Naomi Monroe, the eldest of the four. To her, Raven was kin, a sister. The two were as close as her own sister was to her. She had many a memory of the dead. A time where she had been betrayed by someone she thought she loved, and Raven doing what Raven did best, kicked the bastard's ass. And after that, Raven made sure to cheer her friend up, made sure that Naomi would frown no more. Naomi stood there, her dark purple hair in a ponytail, billowing in the wind, her green eyes filled with tears, a sad expression upon her beautiful face. Her black leather jacket had flecks of white upon it, from the snow which was lazily drifting down. She bent down, said her peace, and placed the flowers next to the gun, and stepped back.


Second, was Tiera, two hours younger than her twin, Naomi. Raven, to her, had always been an idol. Raven was the one who's spirit would never fail, mind would never falter. Nothing should have been able to bring her down. Sadly, she was mistaken, as death claims those who you'd least expect, when the time is known only to death. A lone tear left Tiera's right eye. Her wise, grey eyes were already reddening. She was trying to remain as strong as Raven had taught her to be, but it was failing. Her red hair billowed in the wind, a strand catching into her eye, which she moved away fast. She bent down, and set her bundle of flowers down, and stood by her sister, finally giving into the tears and grabbing ahold of her.


Jack, two years younger than his sisters, was next. His blonde hair had flecks of white in it, almost as if he had dandruff to the extremes. His eyes had lines of tears coming from them. Raven was the older sister who had taken on the role of older brother, despite her relations and gender. She'd always been there for him, always helped him out when he'd gotten himself and his twin into trouble. And now, just like that, she was gone. He stepped forward, and placed his flowers upon the grave, and whispered, "You were taken too soon, rest in peace, may you spread your wisdom wherever you may go."


With her, a piece of all of their hearts, their souls, went with her. Though none more than the youngest, James. He had been closer to her than any of the rest. She had his heart, and he had hers. In his hand was a red rose, the stem still having thorns which were cutting into his hand. He didn't care. He stepped forward, and placed his rose atop the rest of the flowers. Around his neck, was a necklace, and attached to that necklace was a pair of sunglasses, the sunglasses she always wore.


And then he said a simple phrase, "I love you...And I will always miss you."


((GO GO GO IT'S READY!))
 
Megan Gwynn - Roan - Main Street

​



The cold wind came from the north that morning. Even before the sun had crested over the horizon, the wind was blowing quite strong. It was enough to cause Megan to shiver. The wind ripped right through the holes in the warehouse. The winter months in Roan were the worse for Megan. It became hard to stay warm when all you had for sheets were a pile of newspapers. Still, it was better, she figured, than being out on the streets. At least she had a place to call "home," if she could call it that. With a yawn, she sat upright on the cold concrete, stretching her arms out into the air. She let out another yawn as she moved her hands to part the pink hairs from her vision as she rubbed her eyes. She looked behind her at her wings, letting them unfold and giving them a quick flutter to ensure that all was in working order.


She stood, walking over to a pile of wood that was sitting by her sleeping spot. She grabbed an old pallet and few sticks, putting them into a pile. She then took some of the newspaper, placing it underneath the pile and lighting it. As the newspaper caught the sticks on fire and in turn the pallet, the area immediately around the fire began to warm up. It also provided some light to the dark interior of the warehouse. Megan grabbed a beaten old wooden stool and placed it next to the small fire before sitting down on it. She rubbed her hands together before placing them near the fire, trying to restore some warmth to her fingers and the rest of her body. After some warmth had returned, she walked way from the fire, towards a shattered full-size mirror that had been left propped against one of the warehouse walls.


In the reflection was clearly a girl down on her luck. Her pink hair went down to her shoulders, but was scattered all over the place. She had on a clearly worn and battered long-sleeve shirt that said "I <3 Roan" on it complete with some tattered skinny jeans with plenty of holes in it. Winter was officially here, yet she still hadn't been able to find a suitable replacement since her last coat had literally fallen apart. All told, she looked like dirty, filthy and a disaster. It's no wonder no one wants to take a chance on me when I look like this, she thought to herself.


Sighing a that thought, she headed back to the fire, sitting again on her stool. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small bag of peanuts that was almost empty. It was all the food she had left. She would have to go hunting for supplies today. She shook the bag of peanuts out onto her hand before dumping the contents of her hand into her mouth. It certainly wasn't a typical breakfast, but it gave her some protein for her day ahead.


She tidied up the area for a while, keeping everything as clean as it could be for an abandoned warehouse in the slums of Roan. As the fire began to dwindle and the sun's rays of light pierced the warehouse, Megan went over a side door on the warehouse, unlocking and opening it before locking it again, stepping through, and shutting the door behind her.


The sun was already above the horizon. Megan guessed it must be around 10 o'clock. That meant the morning cafes would soon be dumping their leftovers into the trash. Maybe she could grab some before they dumped. She folded up her wings and then turned out of the side alley the warehouse door opened to. Main Street was already busy. People were walking around window shopping and stores were gearing up for Thanksgiving and Black Friday. Megan began to walk, headed for Joe's Cafe, a breakfast cafe about a mile up Main Street, where she was sure she could get some morning food.
 
Chain Smoker


Roan Rooftops


"Hey! Lemme go! You stupid bitch!"


The stream of insults had been constantly flowing from the man's mouth for almost an hour. He was laying on his back, wrapped in a chain, 3 times over, in the cold weather. Poet stood at the edge of the roof, quietly taking in the beautiful, snowy day. Like a baby playing with a new discovery, she had been preoccupied with watching her breath dissipate into the air. Small specks of snow fell on her but almost immediately melted from the small embers that littered her body. It was time.


She whirled around, hair whipping, and walked over to the man, gripping the end of the chain. The man was in his late-thirties, he had a leather jacket, combat boots, dirty blue jeans, a beanie, and scraggly beard. Poet chuckled and knelt down.


"You really do look like a generic criminal...you know that?" She earned a glare and a volley of insults.


"This snow's a bit cold don't you think?"


The chain began to grow warmer, smoke rose from the chain. Poet leaned in closer, a teasing look plastered on her face.


"Feeling hot babe? Just tell me what you were thinking...robbing a small little convenience store."


The man started squirming, more forcibly than before, a sheet of sweat coating his face. Poet gripped the chain harder, temperature rising.


"Okay! Okay! I-I just needed money...getting harder to find jobs ya know?"


Poet rolled her eyes and stood up, yanking the chain, causing him to roll over while being unwrapped, she secured the chain back around her wrist and dumped a handful of snow on the man's face, grabbing his beanie in the process.


"Stay cool friend."


She said, pulling the beanie over her head and flying through the air as a mass of smoke. Miscalculating the time she had left, she shifted back into her physical form in midair, thankfully she was over another rooftop.


She landed hard on her back, knocking the air from her lungs, other than that she was fine. She picked herself and let out a loud whoop into the air and continued through the rooftops, carefully and slowly this time. Surely there was something else to do.
 
The Girl with the Heart of Ice - Roan- Streets


A pair of small, lithe hands gripped the rubber handle of a lace parasol, carefully holding it above the body to which they were attached. The parasol was above a young girl, the age of fifteen, keeping the snow from falling onto her meticulously styled hair. It was odd for most people to see a girl wearing a spaghetti-strap dress and parasol near the beginning of winter, but Aria was used to the cold by now. She had to in order to look fancy when she went out. In fact, the only thing she had on to keep her warm were fancy white gloves slipped over her delicate hands.


The girl was sent to go to the grocery store by her parents to fetch the ingredients for dinner. Even though she didn't like her family, Aria always followed direction, so she went anyways. As she walked by the tall office buildings of Roan she saw a poster for the movie 'Frozen.' Aria thought it was quite ironic that she saw that poster, seeing as she found she had the ability to control ice and water just the other day. She had a mind to freeze the poster with her ice and make it literally frozen, but she decided against it.


Aria reached the grocery story, known simply as Supermarket World, a rather stupid name to Aria, but it was catchy, and she never forgot it, so she supposed it worked. It had a large 3-D Earth on a small awning attached to the front of the building, right between the illuminated letters of the store. She closed her parasol, shook off the small white crystals adorning her perfect pink hair and entered the store.


Aria took a glance at the grocery store list in her other hand. She needed to buy carrots, potatoes, roast beef and instant mashed potatoes. Aria could do that easily. She walked down the aisles, starting with the instant mashed potatoes, and worked her way to the back where all the cold stuff lived.


She dropped a package of roast beef in her cart and wheeled to the vegetable section. She found the carrots and held several in her hands, inspecting them carefully. As she looked, she could feel the getting colder. She dropped the one in her left hand back on the display and did the same to the potatoes, both getting colder. By the time she had gotten both, the carrot was completely frozen in a thin sheet of ice.


Aria thwacked the carrot on the side of the part, thawing it from the ice, that she assumed came from her. She carefully placed the carrots and potatoes in her cart, not wanting to bruise them. The cashier looked at the carrot strangely as it was unusually hard and cold.


"It's my ice powers,don't worry," she said in a monotone, that sounded extremely sarcastic.


The cashier rolled his eyes at her and handed her the reciept and her change. With her groceries, she wheeled out of the store, opening her parasol as she exited into the cold streets of Roan.
 
Axel Mercer- Edge of Roan


Axel stood on the town line of Roan, a smile on his face that did not quite reach his eyes. He was glad to be in America, with the chance to look for his old friend Ah-Li, but something wasn't right. He didn't know what it was, but there was just this cold feeling, a feeling of something missing. Axel shook his head and walked through the town, taking in all of the sights and sounds, trying to get used to the new place, the bustle of America even crazier than that of Axel's home town of London.


He managed to make it to some woods, a much quieter place, and and picked up a few stones, floating them around above his right palm and spinning them randomly as he walked. He listened to the wind through the trees, the bird song, and then, quietly, but slowly growing louder, the sound of tears, coming from the direction he was walking in. Axel picked up the pace a bit, just in case someone was hurt.


When Axel stumbled upon the clearing, he was unsure what was going on. People were standing around a gun with a jacket tied to it, crying. He finally figured out what was up when he saw the flowers on the ground. It was clearly some type of funeral. He didn't want to disturb, so he used one of the stones to carve a message in the tree next to him.


I'm deeply sorry for your loss. The death of someone close to you is the most difficult thing there is to face in this world. Just try to keep your head up, they would not want you to give up. They would want you to live on, grow strong, and beat this world. Stay strong.


A. Mercer

​
 
Roan Underbelly


The Walking Blood-bath


The ringing sounds of metal on metal tore through the night air as Nerin narrowly avoided being hit by the Roan public transportation. He landed roughly on the gravel, the motorized bus careening just behind him and narrowly missing his weakened body. He had already spent a little blood trying to keep up with his would-be messenger, and didn't want to overdo it before the inevitable confrontation. All around him, bystanders watched on unamused, glaring at his brash behavior with contempt and malice in their eyes. He had been unintentionally lead to the rougher side of Roan in his chase, and recognized the high likelihood that he might end up confronting more than just his victim.


The man he was chasing was named Ferris on the streets, and was notorious for knack for information handling. All sorts of undisclosed information traveled through him, and even Nerin had used his services once or twice to find out what he needed to know. Unfortunately, Ferris was a depraved thug willing to sell out his own mother if it guaranteed profit, which made dealing with him unpredictable at best. This was one of the times when Nerin wished that wasn't the case.


Ferris bolted down a trash filled alley, making narrow turns whenever his momentum would allow it. Ferris knew a thing or two about Nerin (and probably more given his profession) which meant he also knew how impossible it was for Nerin to snatch him while trying to compensate for corners and turns. His blood tendril did not grant him extra sight privileges, and he had been known in the past to miss his mark if it were moving too fast for his eyes to keep up. His razor was ready, but instead of going for the snatch, Nerin sprinted after Ferris, leaping over dumpsters and drainage pipes to better catch his foe.


The scumbag wailed as he ran, realizing he wouldn't be able to outrun Nerin. Eventually, his over-sized basketball shorts caught on the rear of his sneakers, sending him sprawling across the alley pavement with his shorts around his ankles. Nerin would've found this hilarious, if said scumbag had not just used the "D" word in front of him. It was no secret to the underground market that Nerin had been searching for Daon, in fact it might've been the most commonly known endeavor out there, as Nerin was willing to go to whatever lengths he had to to find his family's killer, often performing odd jobs for gangs and thugs if it meant even the smallest rumor as to his whereabouts.


Ferris dragged himself a little farther on his palms, before a hardened coil of blood wrapped around his legs and dragged him back.


"I swear it's all I know! I told you I don't have a name!" Ferris clasped his hands together in prayer, visibly sweating as Nerin loomed over him, his blood-whip hardening into a dense crimson blade.


"I wonder how long it will take to bleed you like a pig Ferris? If I cut you slowly, it might just be all evening. You know what's great about this part of town too? No one gives a rat's ass about your pathetic existence. You know how long I've been looking for this guy! Give me what I want and you can go!" Nerin was surprised how terrifying he sounded to even himself. It wasn't a lie either: he could murder Ferris without much trouble and not a single person would bat an eye in the alley's direction. That was simply how far gone the underbelly of Roan had become.


"You know I'm not lying man! Please! I'm too young for this! I-I told you: they gave me the note and said to give it to you! That's all! They paid me hefty for it too, but I swear I never got no name, man!" Nerin slowly retracted the blade, his shallow cut slowly healing on his wrist. Ferris was telling the truth: he was a conman, but he valued his existence more than customer confidentiality, which Nerin knew for a fact. Ferris slowly got to his feet, before sprinting out the alley at the first chance he got. Nerin gazed at the parchment Ferris gave him. Written in what he knew to be blood, was a single sentence, followed by a signature.


We'll meet soon.


~Daon.


Tears almost came to him then, as he pocketed the paper and made for a better part of town. There was a pub of sorts not far from the underbelly, which, while still filled with the occasional thug or miscreant, usually was his best chance at a safe place for the night. Besides, the owner made excellent milkshakes that were sure to lighten even the grumpiest patron's mood. Nerin knew: he often was the grumpiest patron.


The motorized bus that almost killed him became his ticket back uptown, and while he eventually made his way back into the hazy, velvet inside of his favorite haunt, he thought desperately of a way to find Daon. Obviously, his enemy was still watching him, and no matter how much he hated it, Nerin was two steps behind him.


When the chocolate milkshake came to him, the first of the early-evening customers were just beginning to enter. They were often a motley crew of people who enjoyed the bar, nicknamed "Swimming Sam's" after the owner's supposed ability to swim for miles on end. It was a queer sort of place to be sure, but never for want of entertainment, which Nerin found in people-watching. Although he was troubled, a strange sense of hope filled him. If Daon was out there, at least that meant his goal still stood: he would find that madman one way or the other.
 
~Serena Williams~


~Roan~ Main streets~


As cold as it was, she still liked to walk around. Even if it the floor was covered in a white blanket that kept the ground cold and wet. The breeze brushed against her redded cheeks, making her cover her eyes and hide her face behind her scarf. She regretted leaving her home already where hot cocoa would be sitting inside and waiting for her. Maybe going for a walk was a bad idea. Fixing her hat, she soon slipped her hands into her pockets where it did nothing to keep her hands warm. It was barely.


Soon enough, she started moving and heading back home where she'd go and get a nice cup of Hot cocoa and hide under the covers of her bed. Her nose was red as she sniffled, only to sniffle cold air and make her wince slightly "Its so bitter.." she said to herself, walking down the sidewalk and passing a cafe. She stopped in her tracks and looked back at the small shop "I have money, I guess I could get something for a moment." and thats when she had walked in, ordering a hot cocoa and sitting by the window.


"Who knew it could be so cold..Sometimes I wish it was summer just so it is nice and warm." for her, it was too cold, way too cold. But thats how winters were and she hated it to bits and pieces. As soon as I finish my hot cocoa, i'm gonna head streight home..I just hope I wont be frozen by the time I get there. And the possibility of that was 100%. A small laugh escaped her lips as she took a sip of her super hot cocoa and almost burned her tounge. Ow..It's hot enough as it is..I wonder why they make it so hot. You're meant to make it warm, not hot to the point of us having to wait till its cooler. People just dont think do they?
 
The Australian


Roan House





Father: Work. Mother: Off in France trying to scale the Eiffel Tower with nothing but her own bare hands and some powder. At this time tomorrow, the telly would be rerunning tonight's news about some dinkum, a word here which means 'genuine' as in 'genuine article', Aussie daredevil in the midst of her act, or probably having completed it already, knowing the speed at which her mother would complete things if she so much as expressed an iota, which is slightly larger than an atom, of interest in it. She blamed it on her father, though, leaving brochures about vacations to Paris around. Alicia, her mother, had only just glanced upon the Eiffel Tower in one of those, and her mind had already processed what she intended to do by the end of the week. She called it 'knowing what you want'. Charlotte called it 'overachieving', and was disregarded, while her father called it 'in Seine', a homonym and a pun on the word 'sane' and refers to the river Seine of France, which earned him dirty looks all around, as all puns usually earned. Charlotte and her father often peppered their opinions about Alicia's life-threatening stunts with scathing sarcasm, but really, nothing stopped the redheaded beaut of an Australian from getting what she wanted. She left for France the next morning, which is to say, right just now, leaving Charlotte alone with a Mu Ren Zhuang. A Mu Ren Zhuang is, literally, though unbeknownst to most about its metaphorical nature, a 'Wooden Man Post'. This one was modified in the Wing Chun manner, mounted on a wooden slat with added springiness to it to replicate a human's involuntary movement when one practiced on it. It was good practice, and good approximation. Charlotte, however, had to admit that she would prefer a much more living opponent to try her practices on. The wooden post looked far too battered, too. It was pretty sad to beat up something already so beat up in the first place, mostly because it defeated the purpose of beating it up in the first place, as one tends to beat up something to make it beat up, and beating up something already beat up was wasted energy, unless one wanted to make it beatupper, which means 'more beat up' but don't take my word for it.


Charlotte sighed, and moved towards the refrigerator. She grasped the handle and opened it wide, and cast a look at the yellow, dim light that cast its all-revealing beam over the gaping emptiness that was her fridge. Technically, it wasn't empty, as it had a carton of milk, some romanian lettuce, packets of caesar dressing, packets of vinaigrette, packets of thousand island (for you see, they liked salad), and an opened, unfinished can of Coke (trademarked). The last of them all was probably her mother's doing. Her father and her were the ones keeping the house together, and they feared, if they left Alicia Wong nee Hale to her own devices at home alone, they would return to a rubble, or worse. Since her mother was now away, the house was in relative, which is to mean as compared as to prior to her mother's departure, safety. Charlotte slammed the fridge shut, as if chiding it for not being filled. She only had herself to blame though. It was her turn to settle groceries this week. She gave a non-commital grunt and grabbed her house keys.


Roan Streets


It was a cold day, and the first signs of winter was showing. There was snow back in Australia, but it was usually a thin sheet, as compared to thicker sheets like your comforter, and the rather schizophrenic weather of the land down under made it hard for snow to survive anyway. Similar sentiments could be said about anything there, living or not. When she reached the Worldly Supermart, as her mother called it out of spite of its rather limited choice, it was a slight relief, as she had taken to not wearing anything but her cargo trousers and a black t-shirt with her running shoes. She had taken a liking to them, as they usually went with most of her attire, which consisted mostly of t-shirts and pants. The relief was slight as her discomfort was slight as well, and as anyone knows, slight comfort offers slight relief, and the amount of comfort is directly proportional to how uncomfortable you are earlier. Without much care of what she plucked off the shelves and the chillers, she dumped in a random jumble, for 'assortment' implies there was a sorting initially and there was none, of foodstuffs, ranging from steak to steak and steak, with some more steak with the side dressing of steak. Also, there was some sauce, but it was most probably steak too. There were some vegetables, lettuce and the like, but underneath those leafy lies (which mean 'words that fool you' here), lies (which means 'to be lain down' here) more steak, I promise you, children. Eat your greens.


The peace in the supermart was interrupted however, when Charlotte ran an eye over the receipt. Her eyes narrowed at the price, and then scanned once more through the purchases. Right smack dab in the middle, there was an extra order of steak. She had gotten quite a few steaks, but this steak was one too much from the number of steaks she had staked in her basket. "Oy, whassa matter with ya, ya bogan?" She snapped, which is to say she said her words snappishly, like a snapping turtle if it could talk.


"I'm sorry, ma'am, I--" the cashier feigned ignorance. Charlotte didn't let him finish. That was all she needed to snap, which here means she lost all tolerance. She reached over the counter and grabbed his collar and pulled him over the counter.


"Lissen 'ere, ya bounce. You'd think nobody woulda noticed that you rang in an extra order with all them things in 'ere bag. You'd be thinkin' wrong. It won't be apples for ya, mate, I can assure you that."


The doors of Supermarket World slid open, just in time for a male in the uniform of a staff there to be flung out onto the cold outside, followed by a red-haired girl storming out, one hand hoisting a few plastic bags laden with steak and steak, and one hand clenched in a fist. It wouldn't be a far off guess as to what she intended to do, which was to give him a good drubbing.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The Demon


Roan Rooftops


Kai looked out over the expanse of the city, his hands in his pockets. He stood over the city and watched. Bored.


With his father gone, one of the strongest men in the world no longer existed. Kai never wanted to be the strongest man, it just happened to be that his father was one of the strongest when Kai decided to overcome him.


He had taken nearly every martial art there is to assimilate and torn it from the foundation from the ground and abused to his needs. The fighting world...bored him.


The other day, a professional heavyweight MMA fighter challenged him because he grew bored of winning and challenged Kai. What did he do?


Kai dodged both his feint and consecutive punch. Kai saw completely through it, having fought more times than your average boxer should even be allowed to do before they became punch-drunk. Fights these days just telegraphed to him. He then grabbed his head and shook it, sending the mans brain rattling and into unconsciousness.


He guessed he expected it when he took this route to challenge his father and grow stronger to fight him. That beyond all else, once he had done, he would be bored.


Who would challenge him and even present Kai difficulty? What fighting technique was there that he hadn't already learnt in his teenage years, put on its head and then assimilated into his fighting style?


He thought back to line from a video game, not that he had much time to play them. It seemed horrendously cheesy, but relevant.


Kai muttered as he saw the lights of the populous fly across the streets: "When will someone provide me with a decent challenge?"


He sighed and watched as cars rolled along the concrete. Kai hoped something would change soon. His body, riddled beyond belief with scars across his body (except for above his neck and hands) ached for it. A body made for fighting since the day he could walk. It was a cruel fate he would have to live with, knowing nothing except how to fight.


Fighting was in his blood.


Fighting was in his life.


Is there anything beyond the fight? A comfort that could come to him, to show there is more to life except the thrill of a good fight?


Love? Friendship? Bonds?


He never experienced them. It was saddening, yet so true.


Kai sat down and looked out.


Maybe there will be a change that will sweep in the winds. Sweep me along and take me away to its fantasy.
 


The Western Disturbance
Roan


Abandoned Amusement Park

​



The sight was of snowflakes dancing about at the light of dawn, swirling around aided by his bretheren, was a sight that never failed to enthrall Lucy, as he lay on top of the topmost ferris wheel car. He was most pleased to see the sun rise again as the nights in Roan were dreadfully boring, unlike in Vegas or New York. The city was almost dead after dark, bar the bars, and reruns of the third season of "I Love Lucy" on his DVD player could only keep him entertained for so long. It had been a week since he'd arrived in the quaint little city, and he'd quite enjoyed his time spent there so far, his opportune arrival coincided with the start of the winter in the area, which gave the place its own theme park-like charm to it, a feeling that he rarely came across in his sixteen years of roaming. Sliding off the car and landing back down to solid ground, he returned to his little den located within the haunted house, packing up his belongings neatly and shoving them into the animatronic vampire coffin. Befitting the abandoned nature of the park, the park held little amusement left for him, having spent his first few nights combing every nook and cranny the old relic had to offer. As he exited the haunted house, he threw on the secondhand winter jacket he found in the park locker-rooms, which was more of a formality than anything Despite not needing it, he tended to draw attention to himself simply wearing a white t-shirt in the cold, nipples unaffected and all. Shutting the oaken door behind him, he took off into the morning sky, towards the city.


The red brick architecture of the older buildings in Roan, never failed to liften Lucy's spirits up a bit. The brightly colored rectangles made for a nice change of view than the bland grey metallic surfaces of the building in the big cities of the world. The streets themselves were mostly empty, but every so often he managed to catch a glimpse of shutters being raised and signs being put up. It was these tiny little events that interested Lucy more than anything, towering buildings and flashy neon lights could only be stared at for so long before the retina cancer began to set in. As he turned towards the residential district, he pondered his potential itinerary for the day. Another lazy day spent drifting amongst the rooftops, or maybe a bit of snooping over at the industrial district? Maybe he'd pay a visit to a cafe or a supermarket, the places where humans went to pay leverage to their objects of reverence and worship, food, glorious food.


Who knows? Maybe he'd be able to choke the stuff down this time, after all, 5840th time's the charm.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The Six


Roan's Park


It was a snow day, and they knew what that meant.


"Three!"


"No count! Cheat!"


"Call it, Rae. The only cheat is you if you don't."


The swear word clouded the crisp snowy air, and the cold blanket soft across the earth had been bundled, gathered, and constructed into two tall, encircling forts.


On one end was the girls; Charity and Rae huddled behind an inferior dwelling, poking their head out on occasion and screaming more than speaking.


And on the other, the boys. Oreo, Melvin, and Chaucer. The golden boy was relatively certain the other two were traitors, at least in their hearts. They had yet to even lift their arm against his sister's face. Yet with Rae, they attacked brutally, almost as though they took pleasure from it.


"It's no fair, Sauce!" Rae was yelling, too cowardly to even make eye contact. "You were supposed to be on my team!"


"Aha, but then I would not be in a position to reveal my superiority! Admire me, Rae!" He laughed boisterously and threw another explosive snowball at her roof. And before their eyes it cracked an, after a suspension of seconds, collapsed right on their heads.


Chaucer burst out laughting again, the two other boys with him until Charity's huddled form tried to rise and couldn't, falling over on her face. Then his two 'comrades' raced to show their dedication to the enemy side.


"Cowards!!" Chaucer bellowed after them, shaking his fist. "Yellow-bellies!"


But the sense of self-preservation overtook him as Rae slowly clambered to her feet, shaking with fury. Her fiery eyes met his, and with a wanton yell, her claw hands outstretched and she torpedoed after Chaucer. He slipped against the icy floor in a hasty attempt to spin around, and managed to make it to his feet just as Rae tackled the ground beside him. Then the chase was on, one furious, yelling lunatic giving all she had to try and capture the laughing, taunting target.


In orbit they circled the group of niceties; Melvin hovered a few feet away as Oreo tried to help Charity up, only to be pulled down with her on her next stumble. Chaucer pushed Melvin over as he ran past, the tiny boy crashing against the soft snow and offering no resistance as he moaned and dusted himself off.


Chaos was the norm for this group and Roan's park their stomping ground.
 

~ The Weeping Forest ~


~ Greg and Leyla Thames ~

​




There were few things that Greg would rather do than have a hacking match with his greatest nemesis, Missy Laine. Among those things was eating, sleeping and listening to Terri as she sings her latest song but going around in the forest, looking for some unknown herb with Leyla was certainly not amongst those things. Greg liked the cold of the winter, but he did not like the snow or the ice that covers the roads. So when he tripped on yet another tree root, his face planted in the dirty snow and his arse up in the air, Leyla couldn't contain her laughter.


Tears sprung to her eyes as she watched the boy grumble and dust off the snow from his coat for the third time this day. His gray-blue eyes were full of annoyance, and one could clearly hear his mumbles.


"Stupid forest... Stupid sister... Should've stayed at home instead of following some brat..." This didn't help much, only making Leyla double over, her soft voice barely there as she patted her brother on the shoulder.


"C-calm down-n... I-It's n-not... N-not... " And yet again the laughter took over. Greg, cold and slightly mad, started to walk ahead, kicking a tree on the way before jumping up and down, his foot hurting. That was an action he would regret, an action that made Leyla sobered up quite quickly after that, her gaze piercing his back, this time she wasn't amused but slightly annoyed herself. "You little wimp, stop hurting the forest! The tree told me that your constant rumbles are hurting her ears."


To say that Greg could care less was an understatement as he simply gave his younger sibling his middle finger as he spoke. "Why don't you tell her that I wouldn't grumble and rumble so much if you could find that goddamn herb!" Leyla couldn't help but notice how Greg's maturing voice was a bit darker than it usually is, "Heck! Why don't you ask the TREE where it is, so I can leave!"


An eye roll and a slap from a branch was all it took for Greg to start following Ray again, watching the ground before his feet intensely. He was too caught up with not falling again that he did not notice the sudden stop of Leyla, bumping right into her. "W-what are yo-.."


"Shut up! Shut up..." She held her right hand up, softly tracing the bark of one of the trees with her left. A frown settled upon her face and within seconds, she was walking through the forest with such a speed that Greg could barely keep up. "What's wrong with you, where are we going!?"


She did not listen, patting a tree here and there, her eyes filling with tears as she watched some red river lilies, one of the few winter flowers in the Raon Forest. She stared and stared, and stared. And then she continued her trek. Weirded out by his sister behavior, the boy snatched her arm and spun her around. "Are you listening to me?"


Leyla gasped, her eyes wide and her eyes losing their haze, she looked around, realizing where she was and who she was with. Her lips started to move, her words rushed. "I... The forest, it was... And then I... I... I'm sorry." Greg's face turned blank as he glanced around before giving his sister a light slap. Her hand flew up almost immediatly to her face before she sighed.


"The forest is weeping... So much sadness... I couldn't take it... The trees say that a funeral is going on, one where they could feel the pain all the way over here. Either way, they were paying their respects." Her voice was soft, sad. She did not like it when the forest was weeping... No, she enjoyed the flowers laughter during the summer and the life the plants had when it was spring, she loved the willows stories and the trees many complaints as they were constantly marked by some foolish lovers.


In fact, one of the trees was feeling a sting from a stone at the very second and called out to his friends to read the text. Once read, the trees carried the beautiful words of an A. Mercer until it reached the ears of Leyla. She snapped her head, and whispered to her brother as he took out his baseball bat.


Not many dared to roam these forests, Leyla knew that. And those that did, were rarely good men. This time Greg did not trip and neither did she as she ducked underneath branches, jumped over roots, and stepped on no twigs. She came upon the scene quietly, a boy, not much older than her, blonde and green-eyed. She could also catch a glimpse of the funeral, unsure of what to do.


Unfortunately, she didn't have to do much as Greg did the one thing he could not fail to do... Fall. His face was planted on the ground, his mouth getting its fourth mouthful this day but this time Leyla didn't laugh. She glared.

​



~ Main Streets, Terrence Orthom ~

On the other hand, during this cold morning, Terrence was doing what she did best. Singing. Her guitar was out, her fingers on the strings and her beautiful voice reaching those around her. She wasn't even using her powers yet and people were already putting down a dollar or two in the hat.


For once, she was trying out a new song. One she made for Leyla, her birthday being only a month away. Luckily, she knew that the two siblings wouldn't be back until much, much later. While Leyla could rely on the forest to tell her where she can find the herbs, she never asked, something that both Terrence and Greg didn't get.


Either way, the short haired chick let the music take over, and with one deep breathe she started to use her powers. Instantly, one could see the increase of admirers, a twenty dollar bill finding its way to her mug. A soft smile graced her lips, as she finally tried out Leyla's song.


The willow tree it weeps tonight, leaving nothing but sorrows behind, stories of men and women it tells, to young trees that gather round to listen...


Oh my children it dares to say inbetween its tears, tonight yet another soul shall leave, takes it last breathe as we speak, gather around and together we weep, for those that lost and those that are lost, for one can do nothing and the other it foolishly tries, even though the night has gone by and the body is cold, yes indeed one shall try to hold on, to a dead man long gone.


The willow tree it shall weep tomorrow yet again, it will leave nothing but sorrows behind, stories of men and women it shall tell, and young trees shall gather around to hear, the stories of men and women of another kind.


Oh my children it shall say, inbetween its tears that turn gray, another soul shall leave that day, take its last breathe as they speak, they'll gather around and weep all theu can, for those that will lose a friend, and those that are lost and for the one that can do nothing... For the one that shall foolishly try, even though the night has gone by and the body gone cold, yes indeed another shall try to hold on, to a dead man long gone.


The willow tree one day it'll stop to weep, cause it must fall and the young trees grow old with time, it stories must end but yet another friend will come around to tell... The stories of women and men and their kind...


 

The Thief of Time


Roan Commercial Center


:.<3>.:




​



Seamus Young was walking down the busy street with his hands in his pockets. In the overcast November gloom,he cut a strange figure,wearing cargo shorts and a short sleeved shirt. Not to mention his left hand glove,which housed his smartphone. The glove is a relatively new accessory on the market,but it was immensely handy. No fishing through a pocket. Just pop it out,and away you go. Or,if you had a headset,not even that.


And Seamus was in the market for a headset,this morning.


Wandering down the street,Seamus watched the rich walk past the poor without a second glance. Such was life. Hell,it seemed that the only people paying attention to other people were the poor. Suited him just fine. Peering into time,Seamus saw many valuable things change hands,and leave and enter pockets. Inhaling deeply,Seamus prepared himself for the two jumps he needed - He saw a wallet,with several hundred dollar bills in it.


Just then,a voice whispered into the back of his mind.


"You're improving,Mister Young. Quite rapidly,too. I applaud you." It was the lich,again. The source of his abilities. Just two jumps... Peering into time again,Seamus looked for that specific wallet. There,two minutes ago. Near his limit,but,all he has to do is make that one second his present...


To Seamus,the world became static,just like on a TV. But,in a moment,the static passed,and he was right behind the person who had the rich wallet,just as they were putting it above their back pocket. Seamus simply reached out,and snatched the wallet,deftly pocketing it as he moved into the surrounding crowd. No one noticed a thing. Of course,his mark noticed their wallet getting snatched,but they never saw who did it. Seamus was clear. "Your technique is astounding,Mister Young. I'm amazed that this city's wealth doesn't lie idle in your coffers." Seamus chuckled at that. "I only take what I need..." The lich fell silent at that. It couldn't argue.
 

The Forest


The Monroes

​



It was time to move on, time to get revenge, or to try. Naomi knew that Raven wasn’t one for revenge, but it wasn’t exactly revenge. It was something else. Something much more that would burn inside of her. She looked at her siblings, as each of them trotted along through the snow. Tiera was a little ways behind herself, and Jack was right next to her. James was trailing along slower than the rest, looking at his hand.


It pained her to see them like that, they were all she had left, and all she ever would have. She would lay her life down just as Raven did, if she had to. Hopefully it would never come to that, she thought.


“Alright. I know that all of us are sad, but we have to do what Raven would have wanted us to do. To keep moving, keep pushing forward,” She began, pausing just in front of the trees.


The others stopped too, Jack looking her in the eyes Tiera looking in her direction, and James in the back, hands in his pockets and eyes on the snow. Naomi knew they were in pain, she was too. But now was the time to keep moving forward.


“You know as well as I, she wanted that organization brought down. Sure, there’s only four of us, but who knows, maybe, just maybe, four is all we need,” She said.


“What if...What if they...Kill one of us?” Tiera looked Naomi in the eyes. Pain was written all over Tiera’s soft, innocent eyes.


“You know full well I won’t let that happen, Tiera, you know damn well,” Naomi answered.


“Let’s just keep moving,” James spoke up, already walking by the group, ahead of the rest.


He was taking it harder than the rest, normally, James would be smiling, happy, and just joyous, but now. James wasn’t even the same person. His emotions had shut down, in a way.


His steps were silent as he entered the forest, but he stopped, and looked to his left. On the tree was a carving, recent. He read it, and tilted his head. Naomi caught up to him before he finished reading, grabbing his shoulder and turning him to face him.


“Don’t you run off on me again!” She shouted at him. He just gave her a blank expression, and looked back at the tree.


Naomi followed his gaze as Jack and Tiera caught up. Her eyes narrowed. Though, once she finished reading, they went back to normal, a small smile upon her face.


They all heard the sound of someone falling, and each and every one of their heads went to the same direction, though Tiera’s facial expression went from sad to terrified in a snap.


Naomi then glared at James, and whispered to them.


“Follow me, silently.”


And so they did, coming upon the two people with ease.


Then she looked at them. They couldn’t be much older than herself. Naomi stepped from the trees, visible to the two, unaware of the other nearby.


“Hello there,” She said, giving the two time to look her way, “I’m Naomi, and I’m a friend if you are, could you tell me who you are, and what you’re doing here, exactly?”


As she spoke, Jack, James, and Tiera came up behind her. Tiera grabbed onto Naomi and hid behind her, while Jack eyed the two, and James just kicked the snow at his feet.


@King Of Imagination @The Empress of Ice
 

Axel Mercer


The Forest

​



Axel heard someone fall behind him as he was walking away, and turned around in time to see a boy that appeared around his age fall on his face, another girl standing over him, a glare directed straight at the poor guy. Before he could go over and help him up, the group from the clearing. One of them, presumably their leader or perhaps simply the oldest, spoke, introducing herself as Naomi. Quite a nice name, very pretty.


Axel decided that hesitating would be pointless, and that it would be nice to get to know some people here, even though Ah-Li said she would meet him in town with Charlotte. So he stepped out into the open with a gentle smile on his face, his green-blue eyes shining. "Hi, I'm Axel, Axel Mercer. Nice to meet you," He reached into his backpack and rummaged around, pulling out a bag of plums. He opened it up, took one for himself, and then held it out to the others.


"Would you like one? They're freshly ripe, and very sweet."


@TheFallOfitAll @The Empress of Ice
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Café's Winter Coffee


Jian and Ah-Li Siyuan


(A café in Roan)

​



The ground was covered in the white fluffy substance that is called snow. The streets were wiped down and salted for the snowy winter days such as the one today. The busy traffic slowed down slightly due to the danger of the slippery, icy roads of the winter, however due to the population of Roan, many people decided to travel in cars rather than by foot.


However, this was not applicable to two young teenagers who found refuge under the shelter of the roof of a small and comfy café. The warmth and delicious scent of the pastries and coffee drifted through the air and could be smelled the moment you entered through the frost covered glass door.


It wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t empty. The café was rather quiet; the sounds of people typing rapidly on their computers and slamming down on the space bar could be heard. Even the cooks and bakers in the back could be heard, their pots and pans clanging and making noise.


Raising a cup to his lips, Jian frowned as he furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. Listening to the voices of the spirits that drifted around him, the young man seemed to glare down at the small white saucer that came with the cup of coffee. With the lack of sleep draining away at his physical state, Jian took and deep breathe and sighed.


The young man glanced over at his little sister, who was reading through the magazines and newspapers that the café provided for their customers. Pursing his lips, Jian got up and walked right through the image of a ghost that was trying to get his attention. “Ah-Li,” Jian held the cup of coffee back up to his lips and finished the rest of his drink. “Let’s go.”


Ah-Li looked up at her older brother and frowned with displeasure. “But, I haven’t finished reading yet!” The younger girl blew a stray black strand of hair out of her face and pouted, puffing up her cheeks like a puffer fish.


The two siblings stared at one another in silence, almost as if they were having a mental battle of dominance. It was only a few seconds later when Ah-Li burst into little giggles that the silence between them was broken and smashed into little pieces on the ground.


“Alright,” Getting up and placing the magazine on the coffee table, Ah-Li brushed off any dirt from her long pastel pink maxi skirt and then hugged her sweater close to her. As the two siblings passed the cashier, Jian quickly paid for their meal while Ah-Li pulled her white winter jacket over her sweater and adjusted her brown boots to make sure no snow would find its way in there. Damp fuzzy socks were not fun.


Jian quickly made his way over to Ah-Li and glanced down at her. Silently fixing her zipper, Jian opened the glass door of the café and frowned when he felt the icy bite of the winter. Nevertheless, the young man exited the café, pulling the hood of his black winter jacket over his head.


“Dage?” Ah-Li’s voice came from behind Jian, pulling his attention to the small girl. “Where are we going now?” Taking quick steps, Ah-Li made her way through the snow, enjoying the footprints that her boots made. It didn’t take long until Ah-Li was walking next to her older brother, having to take faster steps to keep up with him.


Jian tucked his hands into his pockets and glared out into the white snow of the city. “We’re going to go pick up a package.” With those words said, the two siblings made their way to the next location; the bookstore.
 

~ The Weeping Forest ~


~ Greg & Leyla Thames ~

​



Greg could feel the furious glare from Leyla as he spat out the mouthful of dirty snow, ruffled his hair and got off his arse. She was furious, not because he had fell but because he had given away their position. Something she didn't feel quite comfortable with, as she looked up to meet the gaze of the girl in front of her. It was an odd sight, not because of their hair colours, no, Leyla didn't quite care about that but the fact that two pair of twins stood there, staring at her.


Greg took his time with cleaning himself, forgetting Leyla's little... Problem... When it comes to boys. Her eyes glazed over for a second, her fingers reaching out to the tree next to her as tears started to stream down her face. A sob bursted out of her, and all she could do was pat the tree. Her brother turned around at the sob, filling with panic at her sudden change.


But it wasn't the boys that made Leyla cry, it was the sadness radiating off the forest, as they wept for the four in front of her. Each plant wanted to comfort them, give them a hug or perhaps a place to lean on. A willow, a bit farther down the trees, wanted to reach out and hold them in her embrace, like a mother taking care of her children. Yes, indeed, the forest could feel the pain and sorrows of those around them, and so, Leyla felt the pain and sorrow herself.


Putting down his baseball bat, Greg took ahold of his sister and slowly rocked her, while patting her hair. He smiled warily at the five people infront of him. "Sorry 'bout this... She gets a bit weird sometimes," Greg had learnt from many years that his sister was very much intune with the woods, and had seen many weird reactions from her throughout his life, "My name is Greg, she's Leyla. We were... Herb-picking."


Weird enough, even while telling the truth, Greg sounded as if he was telling nothing but a lie. Who could blame them if they did not believe him, after all; who went herb-picking in the Roan Forest?


​
 
Kai hopped down from where he looked over and ambled to a field which looked beside a river. He was invited here by the school karate champ, who had challenged him. The guy was two years older at their last year at high school and asked to fight him, wanting to fight the strongest guy in the school. It was a typical thing of the Big guy wanting to place his alpha role into the dirt and establish himself as the top. Kai found the whole notion laughable, a real fighter should live only to fight for their goal.


A huge man appeared by the river, in a Gi. Pff, weirdo. Kai was in casual clothing, a jacket and t-shirt. The jacket hid his build and were it not for his height, would look almost punitive. It seemed this came across to the man as well. It didn't help that his face was smooth and pretty in an almost baby-like manner, with little to no maturity showing, except his eyes which had clearly seen more than most.


"Hah! you have such a baby face, YOU are the strongest?! I'll crush you like an insect with this body that breaks bricks!"


How cute.


Kai removed his jacket and t-shirt and laid to the side. Wouldn't want to get it dirty after all.


His clearly cut and defined muscle and innumerable scars he gained became very clear. The senior went wide-eyed, then nervously said "Not all talk then, well then at least this will be worth my time!"





"Good grief, get on with it." Kai was growing impatient with his talking ego. Kai was stood relaxed, facing him as the man took up stance.


The man charged forward, towering over him coming in with a chop. The man was not clearly just hot air, that chop would knock people out cold and possibly shatter skulls.


Kai had seen this in all his years (more than he'd care to admit) fighting a good number of times though. Kai moved forward bending down, slipping inside the mans guard. The man chopped down air, surprised his speed at slithering away.


Kai then with two knuckles poking out punched straight into their kidney at high speed, then while one leg came behind their legs in a swing as the man began to instinctively bend down and, in a taste of his own medicine, sent a swift chop faster than the mans to the back of the throat.


As the arm came down he then slipped it down under the man and punched him in the chest, with enough force they floated in the air. As they rose, a leg then shot up hitting across across his abdomen , sandwiching the man with the elbow that came down onto their back.


He then brought a hand from the elbow to the back of his head as he guided their down to the ground and they kissed it with more force than one would wish any time.


The man was out cold with probably a spinal disc herniation and a damaged centre if he didn't tense his abdomen. He made sure not to break any bones though, being relatively kind on him for challenging him without knowing what it entailed.


Kai sighed as he put his clothing back on and walked to the city to wander, leaving the scene of a hulking karate man out cold and in a world of pain when he wakes up behind.
 
The Smokey Trail


Roan Rooftops


Apparently nobody looks up in the city of Roan as nobody noticed tendrils of black smoke littered in orange and red orbs drifting through the air, lazily and slowly. Every so often the smoke flowed towards rooftops so that Poet could reform and rest without feeling faint from prolonged usage of her powers.


~5 minutes later~


Was it time to stop? Her vision turned blurry and her hearing got muffled. Yes, the answer was yes. The tendrils of smoke clumped together in midair, shifting and squirming to produce a human body which eventually gained mass, and she fell down to the rooftops, landing on the gravel, ankles screaming in protest but she ignored it. Her breathing was deep and she was coughing, to someone who didn't know any better, they'd peg her as a smoker, technically she was but she had no interest in cigarettes. Up on the rooftops, the air was colder and Poet acknowledged it. She pulled her newly acquired beanie down further and gripped her arms, shivering, the embers not enough to warm her. This was partly her fault as she wasn't very prepared, wearing only simple jeans, sneakers, and a light jacket, stupid...why was she so stupid?


Slowly but surely Poet made her way across the current rooftop, shuffling her feet through the thin blanket of snow. Reaching the edge of the rooftop she found that she was overlooking a field, a river running through. A lone man was standing there, near the river, from the rooftop it was hard to make out the details of the man but she could at least see him clearly enough. Another man appeared, apparently the two had business with each other, brief thoughts of the two men being criminals flashed through Poet's mind, instead she was greeted by the sight of shirtless men engaging in combat, Poet looked on, a look of curiosity obviously on her face.


One man was clearly the better, striking with speedy ferocity until he bested the other, leaving him lying on the cold ground and leaving into the city. Seeing something so interesting, she decided to follow the man in hopes of more entertainment, thankfully the man moved slowly through the city, allowing his follower to walk through the rooftops, every so often briefly turning to smoke to cross a gap.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Bleedin' Hearts


Roan Subway


The milkshake had been delicious, but Nerin had to get moving. The evening was going to be on him soon enough, and he at least hoped to make it back to his apartment before the snowfall became to blinding. The soft carpet of white crunched and crackled beneath his boots as he trekked through the bustling streets, paying no mind to the civilians who surrounded him. The soft street lamps were aglow with warm light in an otherwise cold time, but besides them, the area only seemed to grow more vapid as time passed.


About thirty minutes passed before he reached a familiar train stop to take him into back to the center of town. The line was efficient, but moreover it was cheap. Cheap was good for an orphan who made money by mugging muggers and pick-pocketing thieves. The familiar hiss of the train doors greeted him as the line he made for came to a grinding halt in front of him. Nerin stepped inside the train to see that he was almost the only passenger besides a lovely young lady not too far from his own age. She was seemingly idle, content to listen to her ear buds in solitude as the train rattled on. For a time, the transport moved unimpeded and without issue, but it seemed as though trouble had followed Nerin after all.


At the third stop, two large men in black suits stepped into the car as well, each taking a position on both sides of Nerin. He wasn't one to make presumptions, and he doubted his nemesis would call a hit, so he resolved himself to pay neither of them any attention. This was a mistake.


As soon as the train took off again, the one to his right sent him sprawling on the floor with an uppercut so hard it had almost broken his nose. Nerin watched the stars dance around his head before the second member brusquely lifted him off the ground and punched him again. Somewhere behind him, the woman was screaming, bu all he could feel were the beatings he received from both assailants. They weren't hitmen: neither was carrying a weapon, yet both clearly had been hired to roughen him up. No doubt, Ferris had tattled to whatever street lord was in control, and they had dispatched enforcers to re-establish their own authority. It was almost customary around those parts. Unfortunately, Nerin was too valuable to them still to be simply taken out, and there was also no doubt in his mind that Ferris had made that fact evident to whoever hired the thugs in the first place.


"You come around these parts again, and we have orders to finish you. You hear me you little punk?" The voice came from the first assailant, who had lifted him by the cuffs of his coat to yell in his face. Nerin was bleeding from the nose at this point, but had remained otherwise relatively well off for the damage he could've sustained. He couldn't care less about the thugs beating him up: he had bigger fish to fry.


"I asked you if you heard me!" The guard seemed peeved by Nerin's silence. The hemophage was about to reply when the second thug violently wrenched the unfortunate onlooker towards him, threatening her with a similar punishment should she mention a word of the procession. Out of his peripherals, he watched the poor victim bawl tears of sheer terror as a man nearly twice her size held a fist to her face.


"I-I heard you. Please don't hurt me anymore!" Nerin added a stammer for effect, and it worked: the thug dropped him with a smirk, turning back to his partner to aid in their harassment. Nerin gingerly touched the tip of each of his fingers to his nose, covering them all in small quantities of blood, before rising behind the two street enforcers. Instantly, the blood solidified around each of his fingers into small cone-shaped points. With one deft stroke, Nerin stabbed the first assailant in his back, causing him to howl in pain. His partner spun around to react, but Nerin caught his fist in the air with his left arm, before cutting through the underside of his forearm with his right hand. The man's blood splattered across the train floor. His partner caught Nerin off guard, and sent him flying back again, but the boy deflty executed the same counterattack on the second assailant when he attempted to strike him again. Weary, both thugs clutched their wounded arms, glaring at the hand Nerin had transformed.


"You would've gotten away if you had left that innocent girl out of it." The woman was crumpled on the floor in shock, hugging her knees. No doubt Nerin was covered in bruises and looked like shit, but he attempted a reassuring smile regardless. It didn't do much.


"What the f-ck are you? Boss didn't say nothing about no freakshow." The two partners stood their ground, but became increasingly more guarded. The kid they had attacked was clearly no child to be tossed around, but he would have let them believe that if it meant he would've been left alone afterwards. Nerin didn't need to kill them, nor did he want to. Instead, he waited until the train doors opened again, before lashing out and swiftly cutting both guards' arms again. Lurching backwards to avoid him, both assailants unintentionally stepped off the train, before tripping over themselves. Before either could get back up, the doors were closing again, and before long, Nerin and the woman were in the clear. She looked horrified with him, but she had every right to. His bladed fingers were covered in blood now, and he was most likely a monster to her for it.


"They were here to mess me up. They won't come after you, so don't be worried. I'm not going to hurt you either." She didn't respond right away. Nerin noticed she had been clutching her phone the entire time as well. From where he stood, he also saw her screen's image: she had filmed the encounter for the most part. Nerin thought about forcing her to delete it, but didn't want to make her panic anymore than she already had.


"W-what are you?" Her words were like a knife in his heart.


"I'm a defender of sorts for people like you; wronged without reason or explanation. You needn't fear me, but I know you will. Its not a pretty gift I have, but it sure does keep me alive." When the next stop came by, Nerin swiftly exited, but before he did, the woman called out to him one more time.


"Wait! What's your name?" Nerin turned back at the voice, pondering the question. No doubt she was going to put whatever pictures or video she might've captured on the internet when she got home. The visible relaxation in her features also told Nerin she wasn't asking so that she could report him to the cops.


"Just call me the Crimson Blade." With that, the doors closed and she disappeared with the train.


That was corny. I should've come up with something less campy sounding...
 
Last edited by a moderator:

The King's Club, Mayor Domenic Michaels

​



The vehicle rolled to a slow stop before the Club. The Mayor looked out nervously. He had never liked this part of town, and never much cared for who owned that club. But now, he was being forced to meet with said owner. Which, of any other day, he’d never do. He wished that he could just send in the police, and have them gun the man down. He’d never have enough to get away with it.


Mayor Domenic Michaels stepped out of his car, his two personal bodyguards already by his side. They would do him no good if the host of the club wanted it so. But this was just business. The favorable kind, not the kind which would result with him at the bottom of the Mastodon river. Even though he wished that upon the man. Chief Xander Smith. Who he’d have to refer to as Mr. Smith, else he may not walk out himself. And the excuse of a human being could get away with it. Smith practically owned Roan. Why he, Mayor Michaels, had ran for Mayor in this Godforsaken city, he had no clue.


He glanced over the front of the club. It looked shady enough. But it looked fancy, as well. It was named correctly, after all. The King’s Club. It even had a Crown on it. Though very few knew the real reason it was named that. The Roan Street Kings. Smith’s Organization. Though it was not just the streets they owned, it was the city.


Michaels paused, taking a deep breath. His brown eyes closing. Then he opened them, feeling the winter chill as the wind nipped at his small nose, the snow falling lazily on top of his brown bowl cut hair. He let the air out, which was visible in the morning air. He hated winter, but he hated morning meetings even more. And he really hated criminals.


Alas, he entered the club. The bouncers knew who he was, and they knew why he was there. His guards were also allowed entrance, though their guns were taken away. A man walked up to him. He was blonde, with a light comb over and a circle beard, blue eyes, and he looked aged. The Baron.


“Ah, Herr Bürgermeister, Willkommen in der Königsklub,” The Baron spoke in German. Which Michaels understood nothing other than Mr. Mayor.


“Could you speak in English?” Michaels answered.


“Welcome to the Kings’ Clup,” Baron repeated, this time in English with his German accent sticking in, an annoyed look on his face. He then motioned for Michaels to follow him.


The interior of the club was dark, but one could see inside. Shades of red decorated the place. It was if Chief’s favorite color was red, or shades of it. Though nothing strayed into the field of crimson, the color of blood. There were a few patrons inside, at the bar, but maybe only four or five, otherwise, the club was almost empty, even for a Saturday.


Michaels found himself studying the Baron’s attire. His suit was simple, but it was obvious he had a sharp eye for attire. He was dressed in a simple black suit, but Michaels could tell that the Baron was muscled. Michaels himself was scrawny compared to the man, even if his mother had insisted that he had been built to play a sport such as football.


As Michaels followed the Baron, the two rounded a corner, into a room which had several men around it, each one carrying a weapon of some sort. From knives, to guns. Michaels didn’t want to enter, but he knew he had to. So he walked in, and sat at the table.


Across from him, was Mr. Smith. A cigar in hand, his sunglasses on. Mr. Smith looked to be an older gentleman, but not past fifty. The black in his greying hair spoke of that. He had facial hair that was coming in, at the moment, it was nothing more than stubble. Michaels was able to notice some red behind the sunglasses, likely from age, or the fact that the evil in the man’s heart had shown. Smith was dressed how Michaels had expected. His suit coat was long, going down past his knees, and he had a white undershirt, with a red tie.


“Mr. Mayor, welcome. I hope you like the place,” Smith spoke, and then took a drag on his cigar, blowing out a smoke ring, trying to show off.


“It’s..Not bad, I suppose,” Michaels answered.


To that, Smith chuckled.


“I could say the same about your office, the way it is decorated. And you your house, but that is not why I asked you here, why I asked you here is a different matter, which you would know well. As you may recall, the life of Roan’s last mayor may have been a little, short. As was his time in office,” Smith spoke, his his voice irritated Michaels, though he’d not dare show it.


“And the path you’re trying to follow is one that will lead you to a similar fate, I wish not to be responsible for the assassination of another politician obsessed with cleaning up my city, so you should heed my warning,” Smith finished, taking a drink of the the whiskey glass he had before him, like it was water.


Michaels hated the man, absolutely despised him. He would love nothing better than for Smith, and each and everyone of his operatives to be dead. But he could not do that, no matter what. Even if he did, they’d find a way to bring his life to an end.


“I understand,” The Mayor answered, not taking his eyes away from Smith.


“Now, at this very moment, one of my own men is taking down a rather, annoying criminal, ‘organization’,” The way Smith said it, Michaels knew that the group was nothing to him. Fodder to knock away with the swipe of a hand. The lives of the members meant nothing to him.


“Are we at an understanding? You are but a disposable figure head, while I am the true ruler of the city. You step out of line, and they will find you underneath the ice of our beloved river, Roderick, my boy. Show this man out,” Smith said.


Michaels didn’t even notice the man next to Smith, dressed entirely in a white suit, an, odd expression on his face, and in his eyes. His were the eyes of a mad man, one who had his cheese slide of his cracker. And his hair, green, a dark green, almost black in the light, but Michaels could tell it was green.


Michaels stood, he didn’t want to be anywhere near the likes of, Roderick. More like the Joker from the eighties. He was just, different. Michaels nodded to Smith, and spoke.


“I can see myself out just fine, sir,” And with that, he turned, and left.



Andrew, doing what he does best.

​



“What was that?” The last words of a man before he dropped, red leaving a small hole in the front of his shirt. He, and his friends, were the target of a professional.


The man, named Andrew to friends, walked to the body. Andrew was dressed in a black suit, the coat buttoned, white gloves on, and a pure, white mask on his face, which showed no expression. He leaned down, and searched through the corpse’s pockets, finding nothing of value, he stood.


And he walked forward, his steps fell without a sound in the hallway of the apartment building. It was in the slums, a run down building. He knew not why they had chosen this building as a location to have their hideout, but he didn’t care. He was here for a job, and that was to eliminate everyone.


One of the lower ranks stepped out of a room, only to look at Andrew, before Andrew put one silenced round through his right eye. And a similar fate awaited the rest of the group.

The Forest

​



James stepped forward, and plucked the bag of plums right out of Mercer’s hand, opening it swiftly, then giving the bag back after he had taken one. He was back to his tree, leaning on it and taking a bite from the plum within seconds.


Naomi sighed, her eyes glancing at her youngest sibling.


“Don’t mind him, that’s James. Jack’s the blonde one, and Tiera’s the redhead here hiding behind me….Looking for herbs?” Naomi asked. She knew some things about plants, but not much.


She then glanced at Axel, maybe he should have been Jack’s twin, he looked similar, blonde and stuff. But the guy was too nice, just met them, and already offering food? She knew the world didn’t work like that, but she wouldn’t force it on him.
 
Aria felt a hard piece of ice graze across her skin as she walked down the street to get to her home. She looked up towards the sky and noticed sleet falling from the sky. Since she didn't want the sleet to tear her parasol, she closed it and decided to walk down the alleyway where the roofs of the buildings shaded any passerby from the weather.


Aria knew the alleyway could be dangerous, but she knew she had her ice powers to help her, so she wasn't worried about a thief coming by and mugging her.


As Aria strutted along, she kept her parasol down to the ground, using it as a walking stick, keeping her balance for her. That's why she loved her parasol; it had so many uses! It could be a weapon, a stylish accessory, a walking stick. It could be anything she wanted it to be. She kept her head low and towards the ground, to make sure she didn't step in any puddles of blood caused by street fights, as they would completely ruin her bran new designer heels.


Aria bumped into something solid and hard. Since she wasn't paying too much attention in the dank, dim alleyway, it wasn't a surprise she had run into a wall. The surprise was that it wasn't a wall she had run into at all. It was a very tall man, maybe 6'5" at the shortest, and he looked viscious. His beady eyes were darting back and forth from Aria's lithe body to her bag of groceries and purse. She looked up at the filthy man and made direct eye contact with him, not phazed by his menacing snarl or many scars.


She knew what he wanted: her groceries, her money, and maybe even herself, but she knew she had the wit and dexterity to get out of this situation. As she reached for her umbrella, the man picked her up by one arm and pinned her against the wall. His face was pressed against her. She could smell the stench of alcohol and cigarettes coming from his breath, causing her to cough.


"Now, listen, girly. I wanna know why you were in the turf of me and my gang here," he gestured towards several other men, just as gross looking as the speaker.


Aria figured they were all homeless, but they still looked buff or kinda fat, which meant they worked well as a team. Aria was now slightly frightened of this group. One man had been one thing she could have taken easily, but several was another case.


"So here's the deal: you either give us your stuff, and we can send you on your merry way, or you put up a fight, and we possibly kill you. How's that sound pretty girl?" his voice grated against her ears, causing her to cringe.


Aria remained calm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her frighten, "I like the latter option better," she said, not even a smug smirk coming across her face. As she said this she kicked the man in the crotch, causing him to immediately flinch and let her go. She dashed across the alley before she was blocked by two men with knives, determined to capture her for their leader.


Aria gripped her umbrella and whacked the greasy men on their heads causing them to collapse to the ground. She saw her opportunity to run, and took it, but her long dress kept her from getting far as she tripped over it, ripping some of it in the process. The gang advanced on her. It seemed like there were maybe five people. They all had hungry looks in their eyes, and all looked straight up psychotic.


Aria started to tremble as she was actually scared. She couldn't rely on her ice powers here; all they seemed to do was make small things slightly cold and cause small flecks of snow to appear. She knew she was doomed. She regretted not giving up her purse, and letting them take her stuff. Sure, she would be scolded but she wouldn't die. Aria winced as she braced herself for a crack to the skull.


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)

Similar threads

Sinny The Fool
Fandom Akame Ga Kill(ing our Boredom)
fandom au
Replies
0
Views
60
Sinny The Fool
Sinny The Fool
summerlush
Realistic or Modern gossip girl: new royals — a small-group roleplay — open
Replies
1
Views
73
summerlush
summerlush
KangaDoom
Fandom MHA RP (Mix of OC and Canon) -Actual RP-
Replies
23
Views
369
KangaDoom
KangaDoom
dreamthieves
Fandom 「Remnants of Heaven」 A Jojo's Bizarre Adventure AU
Replies
5
Views
164
deadly king
deadly king
SkyGinge
Fantasy ~Fire Emblem Reverence: The Insurrection of Etalus~
2 fandom literate medieval fantasy
Replies
34
Views
1K
SkyGinge
SkyGinge
Back
Top