Rules:
Link to my OC:
mmmmmmmm i have a new muse i've been wanting to use, if you'll have me B)
and! i can send a writing sample if needed
you’re welcome to join! A sample would be nice 👍
alrighty!
Back in Darchester, a tired, frustrated figure sat in a dimly lit office, the feather of his quill flittering erratically in the air as ink scribbled upon paper. He wrote for several minutes before he pushed the paper back and dropped the pen, a heavy huff escaping him. He leaned back in his chair with a groan and cupped a hand over his eyes to try and relieve his pounding head from having to process the light. Several small sparks of electricity flickered off his writing hand as he shook it to relieve the tension.
"Paperwork starting to get to you, huh?"
His brow furrowed and he sat upright, squinting until he recognized the familiar shape of the Ash Brigade's head medic, her sturdy form relaxing against the entrance to the Director's Office with a cup of water in hand. He managed to offer her a smile, but his drooping eyelids and unfocused gaze betrayed his exhaustion.
"He always looked busy, but I never imagined just how hard he was working," he mumbled, rubbing his face with both hands. "How does he do it?"
"Well, for one, he doesn't do it all in one session," answered Dal as she made her way to the desk and set the cup of water down in front of the Blademaster. "You've been in here for five hours straight, Iro."
Iro chuckled wearily in response, gaze dropping to the little mountains of taxes, paychecks, and budgets scattered across the desk. "That's… fair. I just don't want him to have to come back to all this after being out on missions for as long as he'll be. You know the first thing he'll do when he gets back is get right to work, Dal."
Dal smiled, leaning on the desk and folding her arms across her chest. Her sharp green gaze dropped to the number of candles dripping wax onto the desk, fixing her gaze on one of many flickering flames. "Oh, believe me, I know. But that's also why I'm here. He's out there handling those contracts all by himself."
"Mhm. He said he wanted to."
"I know, but… it's foreign land," Dal reasoned. "We don't know much about it and the resources available on the surrounding territories are few. I'm worried about him running into something he's not prepared for."
Iro clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, leaning back in the chair once more. "What're you saying, then? We can't call him back."
"But we can send someone out there to help him, right?"
The Blademaster pursed his lips, "He wouldn't like that."
"Of course he wouldn't," came Dal's light retort. "But I'd rather him come back and be angry for a few days than risk him not coming back at all."
Iro closed his eyes, taking a moment to mull over his options. He didn't doubt Aeolus's ability to fend for himself and he'd seen the careful research Aeolus had done before his departure, but, now that the thought was settling with him, it didn't settle well. There were some imperative details the Darchestran government refused to document, such as the political relationship with Igreacean, the kingdom's treatment of foreigners, and whether or not it'd actually be safe to complete contracts of any kind there. That was a bit too much of a disadvantage for Iro to have peace of mind.
With a sigh, he relented. "Alright. Who are we sending?"
(bruh,,,,,,,,,,,, that is 👌 chef’s kiss)
We can start whenever you’re ready, but please tell me any triggers you have first so I can avoid those topics
i am AWAKE sorry im running on eastern standard time lmao,,, thank you!! and descriptions of physical/sexual abuse are my only triggers.
and im ready when you are! i have my character developed so i can rp him, i just gotta complete his page and then i can send it if needed
Me too on the EST lol- I’ll start:
Ender sat under a large, knarled tree, drinking something from a mug that looked like it would break if you talked to loudly near it. It was quiet, and peaceful, and still; just the way he liked it. He inhaled deeply, and took in the sweet spring air.
Pogo fumbled absentmindedly with the pine cone in his hands, delicate pale fingers turning the piece of nature around and plucking at its abnormalities, yet he himself paid no mind to what he was doing. His gaze was turned upwards, focused intently on the canopy of trees above him. His endeavors had gotten him lost in some woods, to which he had no problem with. He'd find his way out eventually, no matter how long that eventually would take.
It did certainly strike him as odd that such a strong smell of… something would be present in a forest, however.
En looked up from his coffee, hearing the sounds of something nearby. He looked around vigorously, in fear that a person had wandered into his home.
Pogo's gaze, finally, drifted down, focused on the scenery ahead of him. His wandering took him now towards trees that seemed slightly more out of place than they were before; he acknowledged this with a furrowed brow.
He took a gander at his position relative to the forest, turning around and glancing at his sides, only to catch a tall, pale figure resting against one of the more distorted trees, a mug resting in their hands.
What was someone doing way out here in these woods?
He snickered. They'd probably ask him the same thing.
He approached, tossing the pine cone of his to the ground, raising a hand to try and grab the figure's attention. Maybe he could get some answers.
Ender panicked a little, trying to decipher the person’s intent. He didn’t see anywhere to hide, so he shrunk into the tree a bit, clutching his mug as if it were his only lifeline.
Pogo frowned.
"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice cracking and breaking in the usual manner. "I just, well… this is quite the odd spot, and I was hoping you'd know where this place is."
“…….this is…..this is my home…..I suppose you’re not local?….” He asked, tilting his head. “…This is the TNT Area…..people don’t usually come here on purpose…..” Ender took a swig from his mug, examining the figure in front of him.
TNT Area? Home..?
Pogo, again, glanced at the surrounding area.
"I certainly had a purpose, but I can't say that it was here," he admitted. "I, uhm… was doing a bit of ghost hunting, you see. I heard these woods had some unusual properties to them, so in I went."
He placed his hands on his hips, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "I probably should have brought a map, but hindsight is 20/20, you know."
(got his page up B) Invalid Character)
“ah…..it’s a little hard to just….wander in, though…..the whole place is fenced in, and there are warning signs every 5 feet or so…..this place is…..” Ender thinks for a moment. “pretty radioactive….any person that stays in here for too long gets mutated pretty bad….” he stares into his coffee, looking at his reflection. “Most people go mad, then start to mutate….trust me, you don’t wanna be lost here at night….”
Madness and mutation. That'd make for a pretty sick band name, he thought to himself.
"Quite, quite," he murmured, pulling his satchel in front of him and shuffling through it, retrieving an EMF detector and turning it on. Its high-pitched wailing and blinking red light confirmed that this place was, indeed, rather radioactive. Pogo snickered. He'd never really made a habit of reading warnings.
"Well, while I'm not entirely sure about my resistance to radioactivity, I can say with certainty that I am sane, and will probably remain so." Sane was probably a strong word, but he had his wits about him, and that was enough for him.
"But you say this is your home. Are you immune to radioactivity? You seem, well, fine," he asked, easing up on the word 'fine', not too sure of himself.
He jumped a bit at the loud beeping, but settled down once it was off. Ender didn’t look up from his coffee. “I’ve been here my entire life……I think…..I can’t remember anything else, really.” He decides to dodge the question of the radiation. “…..have you heard of Mothman?….”
Pogo retreated back into his thoughts for a moment, searching for any recollection of the name.
"No, can't say I have," he replied. "If they're not some sort of ghost, that is."
“……local cryptid…..more moth than man, honestly….” Ender clutched his mug tightly. “…..I would tell you how to get out of here, if I could….but I don’t know either….I’ve never needed to leave….sorry…..”
Cryptid. He'd heard of the word, but never thought to dabble with them. It was beginning to become clear to him that maybe he was out of his element here.
"Then… are you a cryptid?" he asked tentatively.
He paused for a moment. “…..I….I guess so……people don’t usually see me…..but….I think I am….I dunno what people call me, if they talk about me, though….” Ender fiddled with a piece of bark that had slipped from the tree he was sitting on.
Pogo shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't know much."
He sighed and plopped down beside the fellow, leaning back against the tree and gazing out into the distance — whatever gazing meant to him.
"Don't think I've gotten your name, now that I think about it. I'm Alessandro, but… Pogo. Pogo is fine."
“….I’m Ender…..” he looked up at Pogo curiously. “….why’re you…..being so kind to me…..most people run away when they see me….” Ender realized that he wasn’t in his true form, and stared at his coffee nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t question why.