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1
Open Space / Re: Point of No Return [Crew of The Loveless]
« Last post by Draconian on Today at 09:51:08 PM »
Ha. He knew it.

Aesir was pleased with his fantastic skills of observation when Shen confirmed that was indeed where his mouth was.  The air grew heavy though and Aesir's purple eyes were stuck on the big man beside the firey hoop guy. The rest of the room turned grey and fuzzy and he just... Watched Kirkley. Frowning ever so slightly while he listened to the pair speak. Transportation was the headhoop? Yeah okay. That wasn't weird.

Then again. Aesir listened but slowly looked down at his hands. The scars over his finger tips that never stayed long but... He made new ones. He thought to the plants in his room and how just a few drops of blood when he watered them kept them... Beautiful. A sigh and he tried to imagine this 'Meeting Place' - boring name.

Two guardians. One was there. One was... Somewhere else? Aesir was mostly trying to imagine it still, his eyes sort of glazed because... Sure, Margad had green stuff but it never felt quite right there. Just like Space doesn't feel right. Aesir pressed his fingertips together, realizing he was still staring at them. The Meeting Place. He'd never heard of it before. Right?

The words felt familiar though. Maybe he dreamed of it? A slow breath in. Slow exhale. He moved his hands to his hair to draw his fingers through it, looking through the crew at Kirkley who seemed so tense and withdrawn. He opened his mouth. Wanting to say something - anything - to lighten the mood. Instead, he just backed up as far as he could go while remaining in the room, stopping only when he felt a cold wall through his shirt against his back.

Why did this make his heart beat so fast? He'd never heard of this place before but... He needed to be there. Aesir needed to go there. He also needed to calm down first. So, he let himself slide down the wall until his butt was on the floor and he was taking deep calming breaths. Odd reaction to seeing some actual real green stuff that may or may not be infested by monsters. Did he want to go? He wanted to go.  There was something important there. He didn't know how he knew it, but he knew it.
2
Open Space / Re: Point of No Return [Crew of The Loveless]
« Last post by Cheesigator on Today at 09:08:44 PM »
As Shen had spoken, Kirkley's eyes roamed over his crew, looking at each face individually and assessing their current state.

It wasn't good.

Not a single person in that room, save for the stowaway girl who he did not consider to be part of their crew, looked like they'd slept enough. Like they were awake enough. Like they were ready. For fuck's sake he was pretty sure at least one or two of them might be either drunk, in need of getting drunk, or potentially high. It made his heart clench and his gut twist with guilt.

Just several days ago they'd all been laughs, chipper fun and good times. Playing board games, snuggling, taking naps, enjoying the sense of family that many of them hadn't gotten to experience for a very long time. And within the space of a few hours he'd managed to take that all away.

Questions were asked and after a moment of silence, Shen glanced over to see his father looking nowhere in particular, glazed over and not really there. Even with Hesperus's arms around him, which Shen quite loved because it made his heart skip a few beats and bump a little faster in his chest, a bit of coldness settled in him because he knew where they were going. And he knew perfectly well why his father was distraught. Kirkley had told him during their visit outside how much this crew already meant to him, how much he loved every single one of them and Shen could see so plainly he was the happiest he'd been in a really, really long time. It made him feel worse knowing he'd scared them so, put them in danger, even though he knew he couldn't help it.

Shen tapped the pads of each index finger together nervously, waiting a moment or two, and when Kirkley didn't respond, he slid an arm out from Hes's grasp to touch his shoulder and communicate just with him.

"Dad, they asked their questions."

Kirkley jerked a little, and the motion of it made Shen flinch back in surprise, quickly looking back to the rest of those assembled in the room and resuming communication with them with his telepathy.

"Um. Yes I--mouth is in here," He tapped at his chest, his anxiety spiking as Kirkley rubbed his face tiredly, for a brief moment looking as old as he really was. Well. Almost.

"We go a place dad does not like but is safe. You go. I stay. You go through here," Shen pointed to the ring and flames of his head, "This is transport."

"This is why I didn't want to talk about it until now, at least not on open chat servers. Shen is capable of creating portals to other dimensions, among other things," Kirkley suddenly spoke up, his voice nothing short of tense. It made Shen's shoulders hunch up a bit. "If we go through the ring we'll get teleported wherever he sends us; he's the safest way of travel without being followed."

With every word whatever cheerful attitude he'd had earlier wore away and it became clearer and clearer that Kirkley wasn't pleased with where they were going; something was weighing heavy on his mind, the memory of a very specific grave and a pang of emotion made his voice warble briefly.

"We're going to The Meeting Place."

He said it with such finality, such a heavy note, looking at his crew with an obvious wall put up between them and his emotions, because he had way too many and he couldn't let a single one escape or he'd crumble to pieces, and that was unacceptable--particularly in front of Aesir. Of all the people in this room, this journey was specifically for him, and for a brief moment Kirkley's gaze landed on him again, not having laughed at his earlier question, and absolutely terrified that something might happen to the boy that could never be undone... But what other choices did he have?

"Meeting Place is ancient," Shen quickly chimed in, the state of his father making him a bit nervous, it was sometimes so hard to tell how the old man would react to things. "Is last hope, protect by two guardians, only one still alive today," He hesitated a moment, gloved hands clenching into fists, his body making the slightest movement in Kirkley's direction to which the ancient shifter's jaw just set more firmly as he ground his teeth and said nothing.

"The other still stay there... Is safe place for all to meet. No weapons. No bad intent. Please... Do not harm the plants or animals there. They are last left. Please respect it. Please."

"There shouldn't be anyone there, it's usually pretty vacant," Kirkley looked away as he spoke, his shoulders tense as he put his hands into the pockets of his void suit which he'd neglected to take off earlier. "Just plants, wildlife--what little is left, anyways. What Shen said is true--no weapons, and for fuck's sake no trash," He glared at the stowaway girl, "Respect it if at the very least for the one person who has never left it."

He had to stop himself short at that before any more anger seeped into his voice; fucking anger, regret, because he couldn't protect Bifrost or keep him safe from death, couldn't find him again soon enough, that he'd had to die at all and it was such a spiraling whirlwind of emotions he could barely hold back with all the stress weighing down on him. Remnants of Otto getting so upset with him about not giving Aesir the chance to get out for some fresh air passed briefly through his mind; for keeping him sheltered, for making his crew ever angry or upset with him, for almost losing his son, for arguing with Hes, it was all piling up and gods fuck it all he hadn't been with a crew in so long he'd forgotten how to keep these things under lock and key.

"We will exit the Loveless and go through Shen's portal on foot, protected by the atmosphere he provides for us--and when we're ready we will exit through the same portal we came in. Not a single soul is allowed to stay behind. Stick with the group and don't go wandering off, because there is no guarantee that dangerous things don't still live there. Is that clear?" He rumbled, looking over everyone very carefully to gauge their reactions.
3
Margad / Re: The Best Carrots taste of... Carrot [nix!]
« Last post by Draconian on Today at 08:46:50 PM »
Salad.

Ellis almost frowned, though his eyebrows twitched together. Salad. That was it? Who lived off of salad? It was a little disappointing, he wasn't going to lie - not even to himself. Sure being in a squad was every kids dream come true but... Ellis watched Riss do his shopping. Watched him examine every head of lettuce like the perfect one would taste the best or be the most crispy or...

A tilt of his head as he watched, lips pursed. "Uuuuh...." the question caught him off guard and he quickly blinked his big green eyes. "Aurora," he said simply, offering a smile, "Sorta." A small shrug," I was born there." A bright smile and Ellis gathered more items before he gave Riss a moment to... Process? The information? "And you? Where are you from."
4
Adstreia / Re: Mistake After Mistake [Mara!]
« Last post by Marakai2.0 on Today at 04:24:51 PM »
The feeling of being in two places simultaneously, for some, could be a harrowing, disconcerting experience. Vaas was there, physically, holding her against him as she fought through the storm within her mind. But he was also there, with her, standing within the storm, holding fast against it as a bastion within her psyche.

He knew what she'd been through, or at least a good amount of it, as he had gleaned what he could those times he'd been able to sit with her at DoSaM. But now, he could see it, he could hear the things she had heard, as he witnessed her relive flashes of them within her memories.

He gave a shudder at her spoken word, that single 'no' causing him to pull his attention away from their link and draw more fully into his own mind; therefore he was slightly unprepared for her as she pulled away, having not seen the intention prior to the action. He did loosen his grip, just enough so she could maneuver in his grasp, though he wouldn't break contact.

His eyes widened slightly when she drug her shirt up and over her head and tossed it onto the floor, his gaze flickering from the place the garment had landed and back to her again.

He noted her eyes, still squeezed shut, hiding that beautiful emerald color from him still. He'd ease it out of her, slowly and gently, until she was comfortable. And so, his hands slid just slightly upward and around, gripping her sides in that light grip just below the fabric of her bra, fingers skimming gently over her tanned skin.

He leaned forward, placing a slow and gentle kiss upon her lips, pressing his chest against hers, close enough his knees bumped against the counter she sat upon.
5
The Cancer / Re: A Recruitment Drive (Open)
« Last post by Lion on Today at 04:15:38 PM »
Nope, no. Not today mutherfuckers!

Swan was already making headway, scuttling between sections of jutting corridors that had served as a backalley for the clubs in this district of the Cancer. People went to Cancer station to disappear, or start over. They went here because no where else in the known solar system were they going to be found with. Hide among the crowd, as it were.

Well, that was a little hard to fucking do when you had long bioluminescant stripes running down your body, and two thirds of which could only reasonably be hidden under clothing. Swan was not fond of hiding his glowy bits, and he did not favor wearing hats, but he did what he could with what he had, and the slim tank that hugged his form was tucked into the cargo pants that were fitted well over long lithe legs. Combat boots and his blade strapped to his thigh, Swan pulled his hood up over his head, bristling at the eyes that were following him.

He didn't have to look behind him to know he was being followed, chances were 9/10 times he was going to be followed.

But no, not this time, they were fast. Swan was faster. He was good at hiding, slipping out and making nice where he had to in order to get what he wanted. All he wanted right now was to get the fuck out of plain sight and into some place where they weren't going to look.

Swan did just that, ducking into a port where a ship was coming in, and the moment it began to hover midway in landing, he slipped forward and waited for it to commence the drop of the airlock ramp. People were coming out, just a pair and no more, and Swan didn't hesitate in the second he had to quietly scramble out from underneath the ramp, pull himself up and hop aboard, listening for anyone else that was coming closer.

It didn't seem like there was, but it certainly never hurt to be too cautious. He didn't know the ship, or the nature of the visit, but it was definitely better than just blindly being followed.  Swan couldn't have been quieter, nor more pleased with his success. Some things didn't require a bargain, thankfully. Not when these two duds weren't careful about where they landed.

Hmm, perhaps there were some interesting things in their cargo hold.
6
Edanith FBs / Re: Dead Men Tell No Tales [Goblin!] [M]
« Last post by Marakai2.0 on Today at 03:41:03 PM »
There was the briefest moment of skin-to-skin contact as Ghosts palm connected with the others throat, and the bandit was in the midst of plying crushing force on the others trachea when, suddenly, their opponent vanished yet again.

Following their own momentum, Ghost took a single step forward, ending with one empty hand forward, with the other holding the lethal knife in a defensive stance near their body. All senses were on full alert, Ghost on full lookout for any sign of their opponent.

This man fought for his life - Ghost could appreciate that. But in their eyes, that life was worth less than the dirt and blood upon the floor, starting once he had decided to join up with a group that caged others like animals.

When the light changed once again, and reality seemed to shift to make way for yet another portal into darkness, Ghost wasted no time in dashing forward, expecting the other to meet them halfway. But, their opponent never reappeared, not when when Ghost dove headlong into the gap in space.

And then, suddenly, they were elsewhere, falling towards the other - that was it. One moment, Ghost was charging into the portal (they could see it, some few yards away, just as it vanished), and the next, they were falling through an open space, toward the floor and their opponent below.

They had less than a split seconds time to right themselves and resume the attack, using their opponents own trick against them, freefalling as they dragged the knife downward, ready to plunge it into the others back as they both would land.
7
Advanced Training Complex / Re: Diamond Eyes [Lion!] [M]
« Last post by Lion on Today at 03:11:08 PM »
Every muscle in his body was shot right through with a bolt of tension that came and went as fast or even faster than the rattling between the bars of his ribcage. Vander didn't know how much longer he could hold out, what with all the tight velvet heat around him. The muscles responding in tandem to every thrust had him shuddering and trembling with pleasure roiling over and over on itself.

Loa's responses, the whimpers, the whines only made Vander want to hear more of it. Every sound escalated in on itself as he rolled his hips harder until the skin around his pelvis was made raw with the slickened friction between him. Vander wanted to hear him cry out, reach that peak until his throat was hoarse from the screams.

The thought made his hands squeeze hard on Loa's hip and cock respectively until Loa shuddered and bucked his hips back against him. Vander met him with every motion, the jolts come back full force, the heat building in his lower abdomen so much that he couldn't help the the last few half-hearted grunts that erupted from his throat.  "L-Loa," he whimpered, and his cock throbbed  as he was gripped even harder. Vander came, bursting hard into the condom, gripping Loa and falling upon him and the mess they'd both become.

Vander stayed firmly hilted still, leaning over Loa and his arms like jelly as he tried to hold himself up. When he couldn't, he just let himself lay on him, his heart throbbing painfully in his ears, ringing, and finding his own throat had been made hoarse. "Hmmm," he panted still, resting his head on his back and kissing along his shoulder blade.

"I....Are you..."  He didn't even know what he wanted to ask, and the words were croaked, half-broken.  "Loa...you're so beautiful..." was all he could say, his hands feeling the other man's arm and fingers digging in to find his hand, threading their fingers together.
8
__________________QUICK STATS
Name Kielen Derriere
Age 24
DOB April 1st
Gender Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Aedolian
Height 6'3"
Occupation Pilot Echo; Inquisitor
Residence Adstreia, Aedolis

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description

Kielen is a

Personality

Flirty fun party hard, drugs and drink, itching for the next feel good fix

Magic/Abilities

Telepathy:

Illumokinesis: Living Nightamares

Relationships

Parents: Estranged. Kielen doesn't speak to them or acknowledge their existence anymore.

Keiden Derriere: Kielen will talk of Keiden on very rare occasion as her brother, her "other half," sharing stories of how he was growing up and the antics he would get into. She usually has a rather distant look about her when she does. That being said, it takes a lot for her to bring him up. Even those that know her best though have heard very little of him.

Eidolon: Dragooooooon

History

Old family...candidacy. ..the incident...disownin g self

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads

Complete Threads

Timeline
9
Edanith Characters / Abigail Finch; Frontier Mage
« Last post by Moonie on Today at 02:31:10 PM »
BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Abigail Finch
Aliases: Abby, Gail (mother), Aquamori (online)
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Height: 5’3”
Weight: 113lbs
Race: Human
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Nationality: Edani
Residence: Edanith Frontier


PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

What is there to say about Abigail’s appearance? Quite a lot, actually. You know that person? You know? The one that makes you do a double take while walking down the street? Yeah, that’s Abigail Finch. She was born with the most amazingly blue-grey eyes imaginable, couple that with her long cinnamon locks, a small waist, and rather appealing curves and you have the prettiest little lady you could ask for.

Abby has naturally very pale skin, but is soft and smooth and totally touchable. Ah, but what about the body that this rich, creamy skin belongs to? Well she’s got a fairly decent height for a woman, she’s not tall, but she isn’t really short either, somewhere around average. Okay, maybe just a tiny bit short, but don’t ever tell her that.

As far as build goes she’s got a petite, delicate frame. A very small girl, but don’t get me wrong, she’s got a nice rounded butt and breasts that aren’t gigantic on her frame, but rather fit quite snuggly on her body-type to balance out the curves at her hips.

Back to her hair; it is a thick, rich light red-brown that naturally spills down her back in soft waves. As for her eyes, they truly are an amazing shade of blue-grey. The best comparison for the shade that I can muster is ices with flecks of flint.


PERSONALITY

Abigail is a rather demure woman; quiet, observant, soft-spoken, and thanks to the events of the past year extremely distrustful and cautious. If she can’t trust her supposed best friend and her parents, well then who can she trust? Nobody.



SKILLS

Abigail is a water mage! She can manipulate water and stuff.



RELATIONSHIPS

Alex Marsh: Abigail’s first Mordecai handler. They are not on speaking terms any longer.

Jacob Finch: Father, alive and well in Tynova. They have a strained relationship.

Angela Finch: Mother, alive and well in Tynova. They have a strained relationship.



BACKSTORY

Abigail Finch was born and raised in Tynova. Her parents were mages; they lived in the government housing for mage families. The majority of her life was spent being groomed to also be a useful, productive mage when she became old enough, especially given her highly prized magical focus of water.

Being a well-mannered girl, and raised properly patriotic, Abigail was excited when she met her assigned Mordecai handler, Alex Marsh, for the first time. He was young, like her, and seemed to share her enthusiasm to being their partnership in servicing Edanith. For a while everything was going exactly as she thought it should. Alex was charming, smart, and a great conversationalist. Both her parents had great friendships with their Mordecai and it made her happy that she seemed to get along so well with her own.

Things turned sour without warning when Abigail was twenty. While she’d become good friends with Alex, she viewed him as just that – a friend. She thought they had a great platonic bond, but was rudely and harshly shown the truth of that when she began dating a mage a few years older than them.

Her friend Alex suddenly became not friendly at all. Despite the fact that Abigail was free to roam the city as she pleased, she learned that going anywhere without Alex was unforgivable to him. He became possessive and controlling. The mage broke up with her a couple months later without giving a reason, and she highly suspects that Alex is to blame.

During this shift in her relationship with her handler the ones she had with her parents began to strain as well. Both of her parents couldn’t understand how she could claim horrible things about Alex when the year before she’d seemed thick as thieves with the Mordecai. Her mother had the gall to suggest that if she would only apologize for being unthoughtful and disregarding of Alex’s feelings that everything would clear right up and be right as rain again. They thought she was being dramatic and ungrateful when she told them that she had actually become afraid of her former friend.

Realizing her parents were not really on her side, encouraging her to dive deeper into the twisted relationship with Alex, Abigail did the only thing she could think of to get her life back: she put in a heartfelt plea for a transfer. She didn’t care who went or where, but she begged them to reassign her handler.

Thankfully her request for a transfer was honored, but they did not investigate her concerns. She feels that they view her as the real problem, and given her transfer out of the safety of the city and onto the frontier that is probably true.

All she can hope for is this fresh start with a new handler in a new place will turn out better. Then again, it’s not like it could be much worse.
10
Aedolis Characters / Colwyn Trevelyan, Horror Writer and Camboy
« Last post by nephero on Today at 01:28:05 PM »
___________

___________


*I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it*

{NAME}
Colwyn Trevelyan

{ALIASES}
"Finn" as a personal nickname
"Trevor Call" as an online persona

{AGE}
30

{GENDER, SEXUALITY}
Male.
Sexuality is a big ? considering.

{SPECIES/ETHNICITY}
Human, Aedolian

{HEIGHT/BUILD}
5'10", lean.

{OCCUPATION}
Horror Writer, mostly cosmic-themed.
...And because there's not that big a market for that, a camboy "on the side".

{RESIDENCE}
uhh, some city in Aedolis. TBD. >>

___________
IN DEPTH STUFF
___________


{PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION}

Tall and slender, with pale porcelein skin and large dark eyes, Finn is visually striking. His long, naturally dark brown hair falls in soft waves, fading into a light dyed silver that is probably overdue for a touch-up. Still, it's immaculately kept, soft and silky thanks to considerable amounts of product to keep it just that. The same goes for every other part of him, his bathroom countertop just a wide field of different moisturizers and oils and salves. He can be a bit vain about his looks, but then again, when it's your job, you kind of have to be.

He sports several tattoos and piercings, his right arm a mostly complete sleeve and a large one on his left forearm as well. Just above his hips are twin finches in flight. He has a labret piercing, as well as bars through both his nipples and several hoops in either ear.

On camera he doesn't wear much >>; but during his day to day his clothing style could best be described as strega fashion, with loose, grey tops over dark skinny jeans or leggings tucked into boots, all featuring some kind of eldritch/witchy patterning of some kind. He's never without his necklace, though, what appears to be a small animal bone dyed a gradient grey to black and on a long black cord. He likes silver jewelry otherwise, and often swaps out several different rings depending on the day.

When he's writing he wears a special pair of glasses to help ease eye strain and prevent him from needing glasses for realsies.

{PERSONALITY}

Smoldering, intense, observant, creative, devious, cynical.

OH, READ A BOOK, WHY DON'T YOU
Despite the way he conducts himself on camera, Finn is genuinely not interested in someone who's just after his looks. He craves intellectual stimulation, conversation, and an exchange of creative ideas. His vocabulary can get a bit overly flowery, which just results in him being a little more than disappointed when he's not understood. He's not exactly an asshole about it, but it's pretty obvious his interest starts to wane if the other person isn't near the same level as him.

CAN'T TAKE THE HEAT
Finn knows he's pretty, and he knows exactly how to utilize that. His writing might be a little on the niche side, but his camwork certainly isn't. When he's in the zone, he gets downright smoldering, and certainly isn't shy about what he wants. A passionate lover, and nigh insatiable, it can be a little hard to keep up with him, and usually results in several bruises.

STAY OUTTA THE KITCHEN
Despite how lean he is, Finn is not helpless. His intensity is not just reserved for bedroom eyes, and anyone who thinks they might be able to just force what they want are in for a rude awakening. He is not above absolutely destroying someone who he feels deserves it, and oftentimes with the kind of heated string of insults to haunt you for years to come.

Fun Facts!:
  • Only ever wears lilac perfume. Often ends up sniffing himself at home just because he loves it so much.
  • Looooves sushi.
  • Is into some really weird eldritch shit. Loves tentacle motifs, monstrosities, noneuclidean cosmic bullshittery. It's just his JAM.
  • Falls asleep with headphones in, and his music tastes vary. Mostly he picks and chooses individual songs versus following specific artists.
  • Collects tea sets.
  • Knows Krav Maga. C:

{SPECIAL ABILITIES}
N/A

{RELATIONSHIPS}
TBD!

{HISTORY}
TBD! Because I'm a lazy shiiiiit.

_________________
TIMELINE:
x

_________________
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