The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
3/22/2013
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273
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Cyshadichu
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Cyshadichu#7108
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Cyshadichu
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((No need to say sorry. I'm actually fangirling over him oddly enough. :D))
Jessica chuckled at the nickname given to her. She never thought of herself as a princess. Hey... CYSHADICHU! Make a princess who sees ghost! That would bring Jessica back in business. "Nothing much. My universe collapsed like so many others and I just came here to do something other than sit around for nothing."
Jessica turned to face the newcomer. She had to admit, he looked pretty badass with that cloak.
The annoying teenager with blonde hair groaned. This place was getting crowed very fast. It just wasn't how he rolled without his "gang" around him in public. Even though he hated his brother very, very much... It was his brother that gave his creation reason... To harass and fight with his younger sibling who was always just...weird. Him and that fear of mirrors. This teenager knew why though... Why mirrors were such a dreadful thing to look into for his younger bro.
The teenager took in a nice deep breath, attempting to calm down. He just had to move on. Accept that Cyshadichu would not put him as a major role in any universe anytime soon. He got up from his seat, which he claimed not too long ago, and walked to the back of the room.
Scoria smirked, "Yeah, it happens, but hey, we got this sandbox to muck around in, eh?" she hoped that the girl wouldn't take "Sandbox" literally as a previous character had, it hadn't ended very well.
~
N shifted slightly away from the teenager who had come to the back of the room, his aura was rather bright, which usually drove N off the deep end.
"Dsshh... shh... not now... oh yes, yes I would... hush, both of you..." he turned to Scoria and the other girl, he silently wished that CPRox100 hadn't saddled him with the obnoxious Daemon, though her aura was bright as anything, it was completely off limits, his face shifted to a pout...
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
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273
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Cyshadichu
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Cyshadichu#7108
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Cyshadichu
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"Hah! How true. I just hope there won't be any drunks throwing bottles around..." Jessica spoke her truths. "Once you get the chance, you should try the food. Stuff's good. Though, I've only had the chicken soup."
The blonde haired boy saw the adult's uncomfortable shift away from him and decided against talking to him. What was he even planning to do exactly? This (UNNAMED, but obvious) young boy was still very quick to anger and didn't do well with other people. There was nothing for him to do here... He looked forward, in the direction of the computer screen where Cyshadichu was staring at with unblinking eyes.
"Can't you bring my young version of my bro in here? Just for old times? You can take him out after our little tussle!" he asked his creator.
Cyshadichu thought about it for a moment, wondering if that really was the best idea. Honestly, she didn't want this young Blake to have his way at all. She left him out of a major role in a serious RP for a reason. She had also lost the file containing Blake's brother in it, but remembered it well. Alright. She'll have to find a fifteen-year-old boy with black hair.
((AHHHHHH! :D))
((Oh, and something I should mention, in the Supernatural RP, I am basically roleplaying a form of N's backstory, but it'll likely turn out better than the backstory this N has))
((Alternate universe timey wimey stuff, paradoxes))
Scoria hopped back onto the ground as her cloud dissipated, she gave a cocky grin before replying "Oh please, I can take some stupid drunkard throwing bottles around any day!" she bragged, stretching again, confident that CPRox100 wouldn't let anything too terrible happen to her, after all, she and the freakazoid in the back were the teenager's more intimate characters...
~
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"Elysia had somehow managed to engage the creatures in a mass tournament of Tic Tac Toe. "
I looked at the door and saw a lady walk through the door.She was arguing with the person that the kid was arguing with.She seemed very cynical. Oliver likes that in any person being a bit sarcastic himself.She looked like sh had been through some really bad times,so he decided to leave her alone.He looked at the menu and took out some money.Turns out he only had a couple NCR bill which were useless in the majority of the Mojve.He fished around in his pack for some coins and foun some, which was the amount to get an ale.
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Barbarossa RP
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
3/22/2013
Posts:
273
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Cyshadichu
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Cyshadichu#7108
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Cyshadichu
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((I kept thinking you were going to edit the post because of the "~" at the end. ))
((Time has no meaning here. XP))
The young Blake froze as he saw who came in next. His parents... The eighteen-year-old swore, quickly taking a seat and sinking down underneath the table. What the heck, Cyshadichu? He asked for his brother to fight with!
"Now, find your brother," said a soft, womanly voice.
"We'll be waiting back at home," said another, manlier voice.
Blake looked up. There he was. His annoying younger brother. Fifteen years old. 5'10"... Taller than him... Blake always hated his brother's height. He was the tall, black haired freak in the family.
((D'aw... Drake))
((You fangirl N, I fangirl Drake, XD ))
N looked up, oh, someone had brought a new character in? He seemed familiar...
Oh yes, this was likely a younger counterpart of a character that his own young counterpart was currently roleplaying with somewhere in another universe... how ironic, did he get to play the adult this time? Ha...
He did give the black haired boy a small smile though.
~
Scoria yawned, "Jesus, new characters showing up left and right" she snickered, juggling a fireball in her hands, "When d'ya think the bartender'll be back, Princess?"
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"Elysia had somehow managed to engage the creatures in a mass tournament of Tic Tac Toe. "
((No offense butBlakes mother seems like a stereotypical soccer mom to me.8p))I saw somebody juggling a fireball."How in the hell are you doing that!?" I sai horrified yet sort of fascinated.
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Barbarossa RP
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
Scoria grinned arrogantly and turned around, throwing the ball up and bowing to the person, "You're looking at the hottest Fire Daemon around" she bragged again, smirking a little bit before catching the fireball and twirling it around her fingertips. "Scoria Aureus"
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"Elysia had somehow managed to engage the creatures in a mass tournament of Tic Tac Toe. "
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
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((XD Soccer mom.)) ((Sorry. Took a while to post here. Page wouldn't load))
Jessica pushed herself safely away from the fire, being careful not to get to close. "I don't know. So many characters who need their mouths to be fed! Hehe... This place is very popular."
Drake gave the adult N a polite smile and small little wave of the hand. Oddly enough, he seemed familiar. Oh right. Cyshadichu put an older Drake into another RP. At this moment, they were communicating about sweat. Ah well. Maybe he would have time to talk to this adult once he found his brother.
Blake rolled his eyes, getting out from underneath the table. An image flashed through his mind of two small children fighting each other (Cyshadichu likes pictures). Heh. It would be easy to humiliate his brother here in public. "Sup, younger bro."
Drake continued to stare at his brother, quite awkwardly. It almost appeared as if he couldn't speak until he said, "We need to go."
"HA! No way! I get to jump out of that crazy mind of stuff!" he said, pointing directly at Cyshadichu ;-;
"We need to go," young Drake repeated. He didn't want to get involved in his brother's game.
"Arsehole. Listen to mommy and daddy all the time, big baby!" Blake teased. He stuck his tongue out in a very immature matter.
Drake didn't flinch or change his expression. He was just too used to Blake to react now to his remarks. Blake was growing tired of this. OH... He just needed a reflective surface.
"Wait right here, Drake," he said with a grin on his face.
Blake went back to the table with Jessica and Scoria. "Do you have any spoons or anything that can give off a mirror image?"
"Oliver Langston,but that still doesent explain how you did that.The closest thing to that is whe i saw deathclaw start a forest fire."((I need to learn how to edit.))
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Barbarossa RP
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
Scoria raised an eyebrow "There are spoons... on the tables... I assumed... why?" she asked suspiciously, she thought she had just seen the guy give a black haired boy a raspberry, and not the fruit. She turned back to the other guy, "Fire Daemons have the ability to control Magma, Fire and Embers in general, as the name suggests" she resisted the urge to insult the guy. "We're also flame resistant..."
~
N was a little curious about all this, wondering why this 'Blake', was so interested in reflective surfaces, though he made no move to stand up and ask about it.
He chuckled as he doubted that's what the child version of him would be doing. Though, when he chuckled... he didn't even open his mouth...
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"Elysia had somehow managed to engage the creatures in a mass tournament of Tic Tac Toe. "
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
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((Instant chuckle. No mouth required.))
Blake groaned, finding them to be no help. He searched around the tables, searching for the spoon. Drake knew what Blake was doing. He knew that he would always see this weird, frightening image. Drake didn't know why it always showed up to him. Everyone thought he was crazy and just saw stuff. But no. Blake saw this image too, only upon Drake's reflection. There had to be some weird monster stalking Drake, following him in every mirror. Thankfully not pictures.
Blake finally found a (MIGHTY) spoon and raised it up into the air, letting the light shine on it. "Run from the monster, coward!" he shouted out to his brother, running toward him with heavy steps. At least Drake didn't look like the idiot running with a spoon. Still he gulped, staring straight on at his charging sibling.
Blake forced the spoon right in front of Drake's face, who turned away after catching a quick glance. Sure, he was fifteen now, but it was still unsettling. Only when he was five was when he would run away.
"COME ON! Scream and cry!" Blake pleaded.
Drake pushed the spoon away with a finger and continued to stare at his brother. "I'm not five anymore. We have to go now."
Blake sighed in defeat. This went a lot better in his head. Maybe it was because no one was nearby to see the image. Oh well.
Scoria's back straightened, "I'm a Demi Fire Daemon" she told him, "And why the hell would I tell you?" she snapped impatiently, "I barely know you!"
Though this was only a Sandbox, she always put up those mental walls, no matter what the realmN raised an eyebrow, "What exactly were you attempting to accomplish with a piece of Silverware...?" he asked softly, his mouth still not opening. "Because you're disrupting my train of thought..."
((I gtg to bed, it's like... 4 AM
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"Elysia had somehow managed to engage the creatures in a mass tournament of Tic Tac Toe. "
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
3/22/2013
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Cyshadichu
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Cyshadichu#7108
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Cyshadichu
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((Oh, well, goodnight! Sorry to have kept you up... :S))
Blake blushed from his shame and threw the spoon down on a table. "Well... I thought... HE'S the one SCARED of his reflection!" he yelled, pointing at Drake, who only blinked and stared back at him.
"What's your deal, man?! You aren't this calm at home and my school, little bro!" Blake complained. One would find it hard to believe that Blake was the older brother. "I hate you, dude...."
Blake gave up and went to the front door. "Let's get outta this cock up of a pub..."
Drake followed, stopping right in front of him. "I finally got you," he said, a grin growing on his face.
"You son of a... I knew you were scared of me! You're lucky I didn't just knock you out..." Blake grunted, rushing out of the door. Dealing with his parents was better than staying in there any longer.
Drake was relieved that after all this time, Cyshadichu decided that young Drake would stand up to Blake in a public place. Oh how happy he felt. Even if this wasn't their own universe, Drake was satisfied. While Mr. and Mrs. Charleston were lecturing Blake, Drake would be still inside. He went to the back of the room and greeted N properly with a polite hello.
((Yeah. They were a bit rushed. My brother was pushing me. I forced him to bed now. A little bio. Blake always bullied Drake, always successful in making him a laughingstock. I wanted Drake to stand up to him for once after practicing his emotionless stare, calm voice, and carefully laying out his plan, but the RP they were in was canceled before he could carry out his plans. It was in some teenager hang out place for all the high school graduates. I apologize if it wasn't that good as it was originally going to be. My brother was literally pushing me off the chair after every sentence I typed.))
After hearing some of the conversations going on, I begin to re-evaluate my stance on the superstitions of the Mintakans.
"Oh man, Solok is going to love this!"
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Your friendly neighborhood, mentally unstable, delusional Trekkie!
"The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will someday venture to the stars." -Carl Sagan
All my posts are required reading for NSA agents.
N nodded to Drake, "Hello... Drake, isn't it? Lovely tavern..." he said the last part as if he didn't really believe it himself, but nonetheless was attempting to strike up conversation. "I'm impressed" he stated, his head tilting up slightly to look at the ceiling, "You stood up to him."
~
Scoria sighed reluctantly, "No, no, I should be the one who's sorry, yada yada..." she muttered loud enough for that other guy to hear, "Anyway, Baaaartender! I'd like a driiiiink!" she called in a sing song voice.
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"Elysia had somehow managed to engage the creatures in a mass tournament of Tic Tac Toe. "
(( *to CPR and Cysh* Aw mayne, how am I gonna fit a plane in a tavern... ))
((Aw well, I'll just bring Jeremy in:
Name: Jeremy De Ville Appearance: African American, rather tall and rather husky, but not by a whole lot. Black hair that's regularly styled and a light, cleanly cut, not very flashy beard. Usually wears casual but stylish clothes and always has a fedora on. Often carries around a saxophone (either an alto or a tenor, whichever is appropriate) with a neck strap and a drumstick quiver, like this:
Though the actual use of it is to put it on the side of a drum, he wears it like the name suggests: on his back, like a quiver. He also has several voodoo charms on his person, though most of them are hidden and those that aren't are very discreet. Personality: Jeremy is surprisingly polite, civil, outgoing and friendly; not happy and bouncy like Tawny, (Oh no, a glitch in the Matrix! ), but much more cool and collected. He is quick to apologize for any of his wrong doing, except in the most extreme of cases. He has only picked up a very light accent and it only really comes out when he's performing in the street. When taking part in voodoo practices, he doesn't do all of the fancy and flashy stuff that others do, but instead just keeps to himself. Bio(optional): Jeremy was raised in a semi-poor family in the heart of New Orleans. His parents weren't bad people...in fact, they cared a lot about him and his brother and sister, and both of them worked hard to support them; they just got off on the wrong foot. One day when Jeremy was about 10, he was getting groceries at the store around the corner so his mother could make dinner. On the way there, he found a pair of old drumsticks just lying on the ground. He held on to them, and whenever he was home alone (with his parents at work) he would beat on things. Eventually, he got better and better until one day, when he was doing this by the curb, people started tossing him coins. After that day, he went around the city and did the same thing, hoping to raise some extra money for his family. He saw other performers with saxophones, and was so awed by the sound of the instrument that he strived to one day learn how to play one. His wish came true when one day a reverend of a local church offered to show him around their musical department, if he wanted. He gladly accepted, and the reverend (Mr. Barry, he called him) eventually taught him how to read music and how to play the saxophone. Jeremy looked up to Mr. Barry, so it was no surprise that he was devastated when he died unexpectedly one day. In his will, Mr. Barry gave to Jeremy his own personal saxophone, so he could make more money to support his family. This is the same saxophone Jeremy still carries today.
After the reverend’s death, things went along quite well. The extra income from Jeremy was really helping, and for once he could focus on other stuff like school. His parents didn’t have to work as hard, either.
One day, when Jeremy was 15, he was out in the street doing his regular routine, and came across a strangely dressed woman…a voodoo priestess, or queen. He didn’t really believe in all of that mumbo-jumbo, but he decided to check it out anyway. He watched her carry out “healings” to sick people…and, that’s all she really did. Help people. Jeremy liked the idea of that, and asked her what it was all about. He spent the rest of the afternoon learning about different voodoo practices, and was really intrigued by the whole thing. That night, when he came home, he found that his brother was ill. Curious, he tried one of the practices he learned…and, to his surprise, his brother became healthy, and apparently his eyes had turned purple when he did so, according to his brother. Jeremy shared this with the voodoo community that was in New Orleans, healed many people of minor illnesses, his eyes turning purple and such, and discovered that he could cast “spells” that no one else could, ( I don’t believe regular voodoo even consists of “spells”); he was special.
However, a group of voodoo priests, called the Purifiers, didn’t think so; they accused him of being a demon. They hunted down Jeremy, and tried to kill him; they even threatened his family. Jeremy fought back, and his powers easily overwhelmed the Purifiers’ conventional Colt 45’s, shotguns, pitchforks, and their attempts at placing a hex on him. Nonetheless, he had to leave New Orleans, as they would hurt his family if he stayed. Vanishing from public, the Purifiers assumed that he had died, and left his family alone. Meanwhile, Jeremy came across Mist Creek; he heard it was a strange town, so he figured he would fit in. Age: 24 (he left New Orleans when he was 19, and has been searching for a new town for the last 5 years) House (What sort of house does your character live in?): In the same apartments that Tawny and Aura live in, though this is just temporary until Jeremy decides he wants to stay in the town and raises enough money for perhaps a small house. Street (What sort of street does your character live on? If any?): Whatever street the apartments are on (another glitch! ) Supernatural being: Voodoo Priest/Doctor (though I think I might call him a Voodoo Mage, as he has different powers and that just sounds cooler ) Supernatural abilities: Is effective in conventional New Orleans voodoo practices (you can read about voodoo stuff here: http://www.voodoomuseum.com/ ), has other powers that he himself is still discovering, such as “spells” he can cast, is very nimble, even when carrying his saxophone and stuff, and is very talented in music, which is his means of income. He somehow (perhaps through some voodoo magic) has an infinite supply of drumsticks coming from his quiver, though there only appear to be two drumsticks in there at any given time, and new ones only appear when the last pair is lost. One of his abilities is to sharpen a drumstick with a charm that’s attached to his quiver, making it lethally pointy (like that of an arrow). He can then throw the drumstick at a potential enemy with immense accuracy and speed, as it is enhanced by his magic (this is where the infinite supply of sticks comes in handy), essentially making the quiver kind of like a real quiver, but without a bow involved. Other: Weaknesses: Jeremy hesitates to do anything that is morally wrong to him, and wouldn’t think twice about taking a bullet for someone innocent. He could carry out conventional practices all day long, but he has yet to master his newfound powers, and he requires energy to use them, which he can run out of quickly, depending on the situation. Evil witchcraft, or red magic, is a known counter to Voodoo, so therefore Jeremy is vulnerable to it (i.e. The use of a Voodoo doll for evil or harm, or pretty much anything an evil (keyword: evil) witch or warlock does). He is not invincible, and still requires the basic needs of a normal person.
))
Jeremy came into the bar and set up shop in the corner of the area, setting his hat down (for tips) and starting to play.
Jessica chuckled at the nickname given to her. She never thought of herself as a princess. Hey... CYSHADICHU! Make a princess who sees ghost! That would bring Jessica back in business. "Nothing much. My universe collapsed like so many others and I just came here to do something other than sit around for nothing."
Jessica turned to face the newcomer. She had to admit, he looked pretty badass with that cloak.
The annoying teenager with blonde hair groaned. This place was getting crowed very fast. It just wasn't how he rolled without his "gang" around him in public. Even though he hated his brother very, very much... It was his brother that gave his creation reason... To harass and fight with his younger sibling who was always just...weird. Him and that fear of mirrors. This teenager knew why though... Why mirrors were such a dreadful thing to look into for his younger bro.
The teenager took in a nice deep breath, attempting to calm down. He just had to move on. Accept that Cyshadichu would not put him as a major role in any universe anytime soon. He got up from his seat, which he claimed not too long ago, and walked to the back of the room.
~
N shifted slightly away from the teenager who had come to the back of the room, his aura was rather bright, which usually drove N off the deep end.
"Dsshh... shh... not now... oh yes, yes I would... hush, both of you..." he turned to Scoria and the other girl, he silently wished that CPRox100 hadn't saddled him with the obnoxious Daemon, though her aura was bright as anything, it was completely off limits, his face shifted to a pout...
The blonde haired boy saw the adult's uncomfortable shift away from him and decided against talking to him. What was he even planning to do exactly? This (UNNAMED, but obvious) young boy was still very quick to anger and didn't do well with other people. There was nothing for him to do here... He looked forward, in the direction of the computer screen where Cyshadichu was staring at with unblinking eyes.
"Can't you bring my young version of my bro in here? Just for old times? You can take him out after our little tussle!" he asked his creator.
Cyshadichu thought about it for a moment, wondering if that really was the best idea. Honestly, she didn't want this young Blake to have his way at all. She left him out of a major role in a serious RP for a reason. She had also lost the file containing Blake's brother in it, but remembered it well. Alright. She'll have to find a fifteen-year-old boy with black hair.
((I had to too. :P))
((Oh, and something I should mention, in the Supernatural RP, I am basically roleplaying a form of N's backstory, but it'll likely turn out better than the backstory this N has))
((Alternate universe timey wimey stuff, paradoxes))
Scoria hopped back onto the ground as her cloud dissipated, she gave a cocky grin before replying "Oh please, I can take some stupid drunkard throwing bottles around any day!" she bragged, stretching again, confident that CPRox100 wouldn't let anything too terrible happen to her, after all, she and the freakazoid in the back were the teenager's more intimate characters...
~
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
((Time has no meaning here. XP))
The young Blake froze as he saw who came in next. His parents... The eighteen-year-old swore, quickly taking a seat and sinking down underneath the table. What the heck, Cyshadichu? He asked for his brother to fight with!
"Now, find your brother," said a soft, womanly voice.
"We'll be waiting back at home," said another, manlier voice.
Blake looked up. There he was. His annoying younger brother. Fifteen years old. 5'10"... Taller than him... Blake always hated his brother's height. He was the tall, black haired freak in the family.
((You fangirl N, I fangirl Drake, XD ))
N looked up, oh, someone had brought a new character in? He seemed familiar...
Oh yes, this was likely a younger counterpart of a character that his own young counterpart was currently roleplaying with somewhere in another universe... how ironic, did he get to play the adult this time? Ha...
He did give the black haired boy a small smile though.
~
Scoria yawned, "Jesus, new characters showing up left and right" she snickered, juggling a fireball in her hands, "When d'ya think the bartender'll be back, Princess?"
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
Jessica pushed herself safely away from the fire, being careful not to get to close. "I don't know. So many characters who need their mouths to be fed! Hehe... This place is very popular."
Drake gave the adult N a polite smile and small little wave of the hand. Oddly enough, he seemed familiar. Oh right. Cyshadichu put an older Drake into another RP. At this moment, they were communicating about sweat. Ah well. Maybe he would have time to talk to this adult once he found his brother.
Blake rolled his eyes, getting out from underneath the table. An image flashed through his mind of two small children fighting each other (Cyshadichu likes pictures). Heh. It would be easy to humiliate his brother here in public. "Sup, younger bro."
Drake continued to stare at his brother, quite awkwardly. It almost appeared as if he couldn't speak until he said, "We need to go."
"HA! No way! I get to jump out of that crazy mind of stuff!" he said, pointing directly at Cyshadichu ;-;
"We need to go," young Drake repeated. He didn't want to get involved in his brother's game.
"Arsehole. Listen to mommy and daddy all the time, big baby!" Blake teased. He stuck his tongue out in a very immature matter.
Drake didn't flinch or change his expression. He was just too used to Blake to react now to his remarks. Blake was growing tired of this. OH... He just needed a reflective surface.
"Wait right here, Drake," he said with a grin on his face.
Blake went back to the table with Jessica and Scoria. "Do you have any spoons or anything that can give off a mirror image?"
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
~
N was a little curious about all this, wondering why this 'Blake', was so interested in reflective surfaces, though he made no move to stand up and ask about it.
He chuckled as he doubted that's what the child version of him would be doing. Though, when he chuckled... he didn't even open his mouth...
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
Blake groaned, finding them to be no help. He searched around the tables, searching for the spoon. Drake knew what Blake was doing. He knew that he would always see this weird, frightening image. Drake didn't know why it always showed up to him. Everyone thought he was crazy and just saw stuff. But no. Blake saw this image too, only upon Drake's reflection. There had to be some weird monster stalking Drake, following him in every mirror. Thankfully not pictures.
Blake finally found a (MIGHTY) spoon and raised it up into the air, letting the light shine on it. "Run from the monster, coward!" he shouted out to his brother, running toward him with heavy steps. At least Drake didn't look like the idiot running with a spoon. Still he gulped, staring straight on at his charging sibling.
Blake forced the spoon right in front of Drake's face, who turned away after catching a quick glance. Sure, he was fifteen now, but it was still unsettling. Only when he was five was when he would run away.
"COME ON! Scream and cry!" Blake pleaded.
Drake pushed the spoon away with a finger and continued to stare at his brother. "I'm not five anymore. We have to go now."
Blake sighed in defeat. This went a lot better in his head. Maybe it was because no one was nearby to see the image. Oh well.
((Warning. Kind of scary.))
Though this was only a Sandbox, she always put up those mental walls, no matter what the realmN raised an eyebrow, "What exactly were you attempting to accomplish with a piece of Silverware...?" he asked softly, his mouth still not opening. "Because you're disrupting my train of thought..."
((I gtg to bed, it's like... 4 AM
The Fires Of Eastern Europe still rage. Will you stop them, or will you burn Europe?
Blake blushed from his shame and threw the spoon down on a table. "Well... I thought... HE'S the one SCARED of his reflection!" he yelled, pointing at Drake, who only blinked and stared back at him.
"What's your deal, man?! You aren't this calm at home and my school, little bro!" Blake complained. One would find it hard to believe that Blake was the older brother. "I hate you, dude...."
Blake gave up and went to the front door. "Let's get outta this cock up of a pub..."
Drake followed, stopping right in front of him. "I finally got you," he said, a grin growing on his face.
"You son of a... I knew you were scared of me! You're lucky I didn't just knock you out..." Blake grunted, rushing out of the door. Dealing with his parents was better than staying in there any longer.
Drake was relieved that after all this time, Cyshadichu decided that young Drake would stand up to Blake in a public place. Oh how happy he felt. Even if this wasn't their own universe, Drake was satisfied. While Mr. and Mrs. Charleston were lecturing Blake, Drake would be still inside. He went to the back of the room and greeted N properly with a polite hello.
((Yeah. They were a bit rushed. My brother was pushing me. I forced him to bed now. A little bio. Blake always bullied Drake, always successful in making him a laughingstock. I wanted Drake to stand up to him for once after practicing his emotionless stare, calm voice, and carefully laying out his plan, but the RP they were in was canceled before he could carry out his plans. It was in some teenager hang out place for all the high school graduates. I apologize if it wasn't that good as it was originally going to be. My brother was literally pushing me off the chair after every sentence I typed.))
"Oh man, Solok is going to love this!"
Your friendly neighborhood, mentally unstable, delusional Trekkie!
"The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will someday venture to the stars." -Carl Sagan
All my posts are required reading for NSA agents.
N nodded to Drake, "Hello... Drake, isn't it? Lovely tavern..." he said the last part as if he didn't really believe it himself, but nonetheless was attempting to strike up conversation. "I'm impressed" he stated, his head tilting up slightly to look at the ceiling, "You stood up to him."
~
Scoria sighed reluctantly, "No, no, I should be the one who's sorry, yada yada..." she muttered loud enough for that other guy to hear, "Anyway, Baaaartender! I'd like a driiiiink!" she called in a sing song voice.
((Aw well, I'll just bring Jeremy in:
Name: Jeremy De Ville
Appearance: African American, rather tall and rather husky, but not by a whole lot. Black hair that's regularly styled and a light, cleanly cut, not very flashy beard. Usually wears casual but stylish clothes and always has a fedora on. Often carries around a saxophone (either an alto or a tenor, whichever is appropriate) with a neck strap and a drumstick quiver, like this:
Personality: Jeremy is surprisingly polite, civil, outgoing and friendly; not happy and bouncy like
Tawny,(Oh no, a glitch in the Matrix! ), but much more cool and collected. He is quick to apologize for any of his wrong doing, except in the most extreme of cases. He has only picked up a very light accent and it only really comes out when he's performing in the street. When taking part in voodoo practices, he doesn't do all of the fancy and flashy stuff that others do, but instead just keeps to himself.Bio(optional): Jeremy was raised in a semi-poor family in the heart of New Orleans. His parents weren't bad people...in fact, they cared a lot about him and his brother and sister, and both of them worked hard to support them; they just got off on the wrong foot. One day when Jeremy was about 10, he was getting groceries at the store around the corner so his mother could make dinner. On the way there, he found a pair of old drumsticks just lying on the ground. He held on to them, and whenever he was home alone (with his parents at work) he would beat on things. Eventually, he got better and better until one day, when he was doing this by the curb, people started tossing him coins. After that day, he went around the city and did the same thing, hoping to raise some extra money for his family. He saw other performers with saxophones, and was so awed by the sound of the instrument that he strived to one day learn how to play one. His wish came true when one day a reverend of a local church offered to show him around their musical department, if he wanted. He gladly accepted, and the reverend (Mr. Barry, he called him) eventually taught him how to read music and how to play the saxophone. Jeremy looked up to Mr. Barry, so it was no surprise that he was devastated when he died unexpectedly one day. In his will, Mr. Barry gave to Jeremy his own personal saxophone, so he could make more money to support his family. This is the same saxophone Jeremy still carries today.
After the reverend’s death, things went along quite well. The extra income from Jeremy was really helping, and for once he could focus on other stuff like school. His parents didn’t have to work as hard, either.
One day, when Jeremy was 15, he was out in the street doing his regular routine, and came across a strangely dressed woman…a voodoo priestess, or queen. He didn’t really believe in all of that mumbo-jumbo, but he decided to check it out anyway. He watched her carry out “healings” to sick people…and, that’s all she really did. Help people. Jeremy liked the idea of that, and asked her what it was all about. He spent the rest of the afternoon learning about different voodoo practices, and was really intrigued by the whole thing. That night, when he came home, he found that his brother was ill. Curious, he tried one of the practices he learned…and, to his surprise, his brother became healthy, and apparently his eyes had turned purple when he did so, according to his brother. Jeremy shared this with the voodoo community that was in New Orleans, healed many people of minor illnesses, his eyes turning purple and such, and discovered that he could cast “spells” that no one else could, ( I don’t believe regular voodoo even consists of “spells”); he was special.
However, a group of voodoo priests, called the Purifiers, didn’t think so; they accused him of being a demon. They hunted down Jeremy, and tried to kill him; they even threatened his family. Jeremy fought back, and his powers easily overwhelmed the Purifiers’ conventional Colt 45’s, shotguns, pitchforks, and their attempts at placing a hex on him. Nonetheless, he had to leave New Orleans, as they would hurt his family if he stayed. Vanishing from public, the Purifiers assumed that he had died, and left his family alone. Meanwhile, Jeremy came across Mist Creek; he heard it was a strange town, so he figured he would fit in.
Age: 24 (he left New Orleans when he was 19, and has been searching for a new town for the last 5 years)
House (What sort of house does your character live in?): In the same apartments that Tawny and Aura live in, though this is just temporary until Jeremy decides he wants to stay in the town and raises enough money for perhaps a small house.Street (What sort of street does your character live on? If any?): Whatever street the apartments are on(another glitch! )Supernatural being: Voodoo Priest/Doctor (though I think I might call him a Voodoo Mage, as he has different powers and that just sounds cooler )
Supernatural abilities: Is effective in conventional New Orleans voodoo practices (you can read about voodoo stuff here: http://www.voodoomuseum.com/ ), has other powers that he himself is still discovering, such as “spells” he can cast, is very nimble, even when carrying his saxophone and stuff, and is very talented in music, which is his means of income. He somehow (perhaps through some voodoo magic) has an infinite supply of drumsticks coming from his quiver, though there only appear to be two drumsticks in there at any given time, and new ones only appear when the last pair is lost. One of his abilities is to sharpen a drumstick with a charm that’s attached to his quiver, making it lethally pointy (like that of an arrow). He can then throw the drumstick at a potential enemy with immense accuracy and speed, as it is enhanced by his magic (this is where the infinite supply of sticks comes in handy), essentially making the quiver kind of like a real quiver, but without a bow involved.
Other: Weaknesses: Jeremy hesitates to do anything that is morally wrong to him, and wouldn’t think twice about taking a bullet for someone innocent. He could carry out conventional practices all day long, but he has yet to master his newfound powers, and he requires energy to use them, which he can run out of quickly, depending on the situation. Evil witchcraft, or red magic, is a known counter to Voodoo, so therefore Jeremy is vulnerable to it (i.e. The use of a Voodoo doll for evil or harm, or pretty much anything an evil (keyword: evil) witch or warlock does). He is not invincible, and still requires the basic needs of a normal person.
Jeremy came into the bar and set up shop in the corner of the area, setting his hat down (for tips) and starting to play.
I usually have a neutral/undecided standpoint on things. And yes, I am part Swiss.