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Postby Miranda » Fri Nov 04, 2016 10:57 pm

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"The Rules for Roleplaying are simple:
> This is a PG-13 Website. No Profanity or Vulgarity or Sexuality is allowed. This means your Characters need to keep it clean.
> Being flirty and young love themes are Ok. Naughty behavior/kissing/sex/etc is not allowed though.
> If you're roleplaying horses and they breed, keep it simple like "And then they bred".
> No forced breeding is allowed. No graphic descriptions of breeding are allowed.
> You may not force another character to do anything.
> Fighting is only permitted if both parties want to fight.
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> When new characters arrive, welcome them into the story.
> The biggest rule of all is Have Fun! Creativity is encouraged
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Postby Miranda » Sat Nov 05, 2016 3:21 am

[PSA #001] Early November | Weather: Cloudy and Rainy. | Time: Around 9am

Setting: Riverside (Town where everything is) // Vrijeme Estates (Barn) // Mount. Jji // Anywhere I suppose.
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Postby Nazûl » Sat Nov 05, 2016 7:43 pm

His white locks of hair cascaded down his shoulders like a waterfall of snow. His unusual silver eyes always seemed to glint with a hidden mystery. The male walked with cautious strides in knowing of previous dangerous paths. He wore a faint smirk of confidence to banish away the scowl of his past. He was well built. Lean muscles with a tall frame. His regal mane lay untamed symbolizing his lack of motivation, or effort. His features were marked sharp in the spot light of the unforgiving light of the room. Particles floated around in the air like pixie dust spread from the wings of fairies. His bare chest heaved up, and down in a rhythmic fall. Finely toned skin gleamed like crystals from the light film of speckled sweat that lie across the surface of his skin. His eye lids flicker lazily. Lips curled in a slight smug gesture that was washed away by the boredom his features gave away. Some would see him as a mystical Beauty, others would run. The rest, wanted him dead.
It had been years. How old was he now? 1? 2? 3? 5? 7 years? Yea. 23! 23 years old. It seemed to finally become clear to him that he couldn't pity himself for his past, or outrun it. He needed to stop the slaughter. He had lived as a mortal for the last few years, and learning to accept the supernatural world once again wouldn't be easy. There was one place that could get him fit again. Only one. A place he dreaded. A place he fear that his name be spoiled. The one place that he had avoided all the years to escape who he was. He needed to stop feeling pity for himself.
~•~
He raised one hand to push back the white strands on top of his head. A small sigh escaped his lips as he slid from the stool. Combat boots touching the burned floor that lie under him. Swiftly, he pushed open the doors that lead him into the natural light of the awakening sun. To Vrijeme Estates . Dear old Friend.
~•~
The black combat boots had accumulated a light film of grey dust across the toe. Puffs of the crumbled gravel drifted into the air in small clouds anytime the tiny pebbles were stirred. His pants looked much like any military pants would, but solid black. He wore a matching black shirt that had the sleeves cut out, and extended to near the bottom of the shirt. This revealed a small portion of his elegantly formed ribs, and lightly tanned skin. The fabric was light, and almost a see-through material. This caused it to ripple at the slightest of wind. The neck also had a V neck cut into it to reveal a small portion of the male's upper chest. Mostly centered around the area of his collar bone. None could yet see the result of his adventures from living among the mortals. Across his left shoulder blade a flock of black birds took flight to somewhere distant. "Amara" was scripted in Greek across his left ankle. "Revenge" was tattooed across his other ankle. The suicide flower was tattooed across his left hip, and "Strength" was tattooed small across a rib on his right side. His silver eyes flickered anxiously at the sight that lay before him. Pupils shrinking at the sight, and the bright sunlight didn't help. His black hair was long, and gleamed with the sweat that formed across his scalp. It had been a while since he had allowed this appearance shine through. 7 years at least. The 23 year old took several minutes to allow his anxiety to reside before tilting his head. A soft sigh escaped his lips; arms coming to cross over his chest. His eyelids fell closed. Silver eyes disappearing from sight. His once ebony locks faded to a quintessence white before growing out. Soon, it cascaded down his shoulders like a waterfall. The ends reaching down several inches below his armpits. Once again his silver eyes returned. Eyelids flickering open to allow the light to flow back to his pupils. His irises could change 1 of 2 colors. Silver being the natural color he inherited, and blood red ;which was a recessive color he had adapted to. None were dependent on moods, and were completely decided by him. The long, white strands lifted into the air. Dancing in the wind as he stood at the entrance of the stables. A ice cold sensation gripped his finger tightly causing him to look down at the glowing ring.
https://s16.postimg.org/42dne1e8l/IMG_3891.jpg Within the depths of the metal a blue glowing essence stirred. Souls. Only three. He had visited a hospital before coming here. Just incase he might need the extra energy.

A soft nudge at his arm caused the male to slightly shift. Directing his attention to the 2 year old black, brindled filly. The filly looked over to him with expectation. A dark purple halter rested across her elegant head. "Hey Amara." He spoke softly. Now realizing that he had dropped the black lead rope. She swished her short, soft, black tail before letting out a girly whinny. If Luka wanted to be at Vrijeme Estates he would need a horse. So, here she was. The abandoned filly whom he had named Amara for a certain reason. He leaned down before wrapping his fingers around the black rope. He gave her a small pat before sighing again. Amara shook her head before letting out a small buck, and snorting. He couldn't help but smile. "You are rather enthusiastic about this." He said softly before leading her deeper into the Vrijeme Estates property.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The white-glazed eye bore across the landscape. Black eyelashes falling closed every once in a while. To the left the shimmering, frosty, blue-ish, green iris took in the sight before it. Pupil becoming larger to take in all of the beauty. It was a sight for sore eyes. The vast, and beautiful landscape. The fearsome, yet elegant equines only added to the pure bliss. White strands of hair cascaded down her shoulders. Mixes of smokey grey, and black strands managed to find their way among the others. A faded scar ran right through the right eye. Which more than likely was the reason that eye was damaged. The daughter of Poseidon sat comfortably across the sturdy, wooden fence. Her attire consisted of tall boots with three different linked pieces to it, and arm cuffs which were both made of celestial bronze coated in silver. She wore a black skirt made of thin threads that fell loosely like a waterfall. Styled much like a double slit dress. Secured with a armor belt made of the same thing that the rest of her outfit was made of. The same black threads cascaded gracefully down her arms from the metal arm cuffs secured above her elbow. Finishing the look; a armor breastplate rested across her chest. Coming down to a point over her belly button. This exposed her floating ribs, lower back, and parts of her stomach. https://s16.postimg.org/577pjf0ph/IMG_3930.jpg
A long elegant sword rested against the fence beside her. Blade glinting in the light.
Carefully she reached up to tie her hair into a pony tail. Fingers skillfully looping the black ribbon around her silver locks. Strands fell loose from her quick and sloppy job; but this seemed to only compliment her. Despite her attire suggesting that she followed the older traditions that the immortals followed; this was not necessarily the case. Within the depths of her black cloak that hung on the rail beside her was a gun she had stolen from a FBI agent. The details of the gun were unknown to her for all she was interested in was using it successfully.
She had yet to venture deeper into the grounds. For now, she seemed content with lingering near the furthest pastures. She wished not to startle anyone with her appearance as she had yet to experience any supernatural aura enter the property since she arrived. The demigod was thoroughly intrigued by the equines that walked the stable. Finding much enjoyment out of them as her father when he created them.
(Sorry! This was pre written)
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Postby Gingi » Sun Nov 06, 2016 12:58 pm

Liam sat quietly, his dark ochre eyes intensely focused on a sole object in his hands. By the hard set of his expression as he looked at it, it was easy to tell to any onlooker that it held bad memories to the man holding it. They would be right as well. To Liam, it was a curse. In actuality, it forbode the triggering of a curse that was all Liam's own. A mind is like a train station with many tracks, each one a memory of its own. Some tracks were used well and often, while others lay barren and unused. The track way off in the distance, without a train in sight, with weeds and cobwebs overtaking it, was the path to a memory Liam had refused to ever visit again. But he would look off into the distance and wonder what if? What if there was something there that could take away the guilt? What if there was a tiny detail he had missed that could make the pain more bearable? He would always ponder, sometimes for hours on end, but he never traveled down that road. So there it lay, unused, unkempt, and fading. Unlike the mind though, the heart remembers the feelings, leaving Liam with the same writhing guilt that kept permanent dark half moons under his eyes and the sensation that never left him.
Liam breathed out a sigh. He couldn't tell how long he'd been sitting in his car looking at this anathematized dagger in his hands. It was frozen to the touch, it's cool metal emitting a coldness of itself. The metal of the small blade was smooth and sleek in appearance and like a solid rushing river to the touch, as if the earth has bent itself backwards to produce an object of perfection in its balanced weight and trenchant edges. The handle showed the true age of the piece, tattered dried cowhide bound around and around the archaic wood that made the handle. It had a personality to it, a regal air, yet humble as to not being above anyone. It was brave, tried and true to its masters. Much to Liam's conflicted feelings, it had never let him down and it had never left a task unfulfilled. And, the dagger's creator's final touch, was a small inscribed word in the pommel of the handle, deep in the wood. When Liam had acquired the dagger, the inscription was worn, barely legible. But it was there: rursus. After searching almost every language he could find, Liam had learned that it was Latin. The word meant to shift, a peculiar message to engrave on a small dagger such as the one in Liam's hand. It had taken Liam a couple of weeks to learn the meaning of the inscription. They were instructions. The word acted as an activation for the dagger to shift into its other form: a crossbow. For Liam, a regular nonbeliever, it was frightening. There was no logical explanation for the transformation. It would all be explained later on when Liam would find himself shoved into the supernatural sub world of what he thought was his life. The rough journey to his new self was locked at the end of that lone train track.
The crossbow form of the dagger was entirely different, made mostly of wood, smoothed to a polished sheen over the years. It was always loaded with a single silver arrow. The arrow was the slightest thing you'd ever seen, barely the diameter of a pencil, but it couldn't be bent or broken. It's needle like tip drew blood at the slightest touch, a lesson Liam had learned with a pinch of salt. He was aware now that silver was the only substance that could truly harm him, but not back then when he had discovered the dagger. He found a bitter irony in the fact that he carried around a weapon that, would his enemy obtain it, would kill him. In that respect, the dagger was unloyal.
Liam looked to the clock of his car. Only an hour had passed. He'd spent much longer in his thoughts before, going round and round in the same circles with the same conclusions and the same doubts. For today, he decided, an hour would be enough. He tucked the dagger into his jacket and turned the ignition and the engine awoke, purring softly after its nap. He gazed out of his windshield. It was splattered with the warning drizzle of a heavier rain, beginning to obscure his view of the small town road he was parked on. He flicked on the windshield wipers and pressed a button to turn on the radio. A smooth feminine voice crooning a familiar melancholic tune crackled over the old speakers and filled the car. Liam turned the nob to adjust the volume before pulling into the street and accelerating.
The small town of Riverside blurred as Liam drove down its main street until he was surrounded by nothing but the thick pine forest that choked in around the town's borders, isolating it from any surrounding towns, which there weren't for at least a good fifty miles all around. Liam had chosen Riverside as his destination for its quiet, small-town isolation. He'd moved around a lot since that day when he was seventeen, never able to stay for more than a couple months. The mysterious animal attacks and his enigmatic behavior would often lead to suspicion until he was forced to leave before anyone found him out. He hoped, like in every other place he'd called home, that he would be able to find peaceful residence in Riverside. Maybe this time he could be normal. Maybe this time he would be accepted. Maybe this time he wouldn't lose control.
Liam was jerked out of his thoughts when he heard a crack. He looked down at the steering wheel in his hands. His knuckles were white from the force he was holding it with. He loosened his grip and moved his hands. Where his hands had been, the material of the steer wheel was cracked and crushed, shriveled beneath the force of his grip. He growled. So much for hope. He'd never pass as normal, no matter how many times he moved, it would never change who he was. Yet, he continued to hop from town to town, hoping...
He turned the wheel sharply, veering into a paved masonry road. There was a pair of black iron gates a couple of meters ahead, but they were open, indicating someone was already there and also allowing entrance into the property. Liam drove through the entrance and up the winding driveway until he reached the property: a stable. He glanced down at the slip of paper that was now held between his fingers as he parked. The address of the stable matched the one printed neatly on the note. Satisfied, Liam shut off the car, cutting off the singing woman as she delved back into the chorus once more. He sat in the homely silence for a moment before opening the door to stand. He scowled as the rain began pattering down on him. He hated rain. He turned his head as his eyes scanned for signs of life. Though stable was quite quiet at nine in the morning and Liam found none other than a pair of horses watching him curiously. The smaller, more wiry of the two stepped forward, snuffling as he smelled Liam's scent. He sprang back fearfully, spooking the other horse as well, and they retreated into their stalls. Liam sighed. He just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. He looked down at the crumpled - had it been crumpled before? - piece of paper in his fist again. His landlord had left specific instructions to meet her here today. He assumed he was probably just a little early as it was still only nine. Sighing, once again, he walked towards the building of the barn to get out of the dreadful rain that was starting to pick up. He glared up at the sky, as if someone up there could shut off the rain. Thunder rolled across the sky, a plain response to Liam.
"The universe hates me," he sighed under his breath as he stole under the roof of the warm, sweet smelling barn.
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Postby Nazûl » Sun Nov 06, 2016 6:52 pm

The silver haired man stood calmly further down the aisle. Back turned to the entrance. His silver locks had not one wave them. Silky, soft, and fell down his shoulders like a curtain. Despite this, small wisp of silver strands caught in the slight breeze that blew in from the open double doors at the entrance. He seemed in his own little world. Flicking the brush to the rhythm of the rain. The black brindled mare stood with her hind leg cocked. Head lowered as she attempted to blink away deep sleep. She stood to the outside of a gold plated stall with the name "Amara's Darkness" scripted into the plate. She slightly lifted her head. Peering under her owner's arm to look at the male who had made a appearance. She swished her tail; eyes locked on him. After several moments she yawned before going back to enjoying being groomed. The male turned to face the new male. Already sensing he was not a normal mortal. He had a thing about sensing auras. His pupils shrunk into slits before returning to normal once again. "Welcome!" He greeted gingerly. His ring emitted the bright, illuminating, light of the souls. Further up his arm something reflected the bright light. A small rigid dagger. Tied to his upper arm by a thin piece of leather across the hilt. Drops of black vapor dripped from the tip of the blade before dispersing. His skin was red with irritation from the blade, but he seemed to have grown used to the pain it caused. He offered a kind smile, but it seemed slightly forced as his eyes were dull. His boots were newly polished, and his combat pants had not a speck of dust on them. Amara nudged him in impatience. Clearly unamused that he had stopped grooming her soft coat.
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Postby Miranda » Sun Nov 06, 2016 11:43 pm

This is going to be really short so I'm sorry in advance.

...

Amara sat patiently waiting. Her hair was cast into a quick French braid, but beautifully applied war paint was streaked across her cheeks, and her tight black jeans restricted her from nothing, as she watched Luka. Her eyes shimmered, even seemed more vivid than usual as she watched him. He seemed accustomed to life without her. She was surely accustomed to life without him; but there were few days she didn't think about him. She didn't name a horse after her brother, but she at least knew he was alive. She wasn't sure if Luka knew she was alive. She had been watching him for a while now, she was even staying in a abandoned burned down murder house a few blocks away, just to stay close to this stable. It wasn't just him that kept her here though, she was running. She had gotten into a bit of a conflict with a very close knit group of for hires, they took her, and for 3 years she was locked in a cell, or she was doing errands for someone, or killing people of high influence because she was replaceable. The past three years, though, she had been in training with one man who seemed all to determined to help her; but she didn't question it. She had only escaped weeks ago. After hopping from house to house nearby this barn, she needed something different. Human touch. Not so human touch- it didn't matter. Either way, that was what she needed. She found herself walking towards Luka, and in a swift motion she pulled the hood to her skull sweater over her head. She had a new look, but he would still recognize her. She wanted to talk to him for a bit before revealing herself. Maybe connect with him again before revealing herself, even. Without thinking, she shifted to appear fifteen feet behind him or so. Unless he was a freaking miracle, he wouldn't notice. She walked up to him briskly, boldly even, but as soon as she raised her hand to tap him in the shoulder, while she was just less than an inch from it, she backed up quickly, she turned her head, looking off, and began walking back to the forest trails.

...

I suck. Again. I'm just tired.
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Postby Gingi » Mon Nov 07, 2016 1:19 am

Liam looked up after vigorously shaking himself off from the rain. He quickly found the man who had called a greeting and straightened up, a little out of balance after so enthusiastically ridding himself of the droplets that clung to his dark hair. He could still feel the dampness clinging to him, but enjoyed the dryness of the inside of the barn nonetheless. He stuffed the crumpled address into another pocket of his jacket, freeing up his hands as he observed the man in the barn. He seemed to be the only one there other than the horses. Liam's eyes turned to the man's mare. She seemed unfazed. Horses usually reacted in his presence, often afraid. He shrugged it off, however unusual. The man who had greeted him seemed even more so. He had long silver hair - for some reason reminding him somewhat of the elves in those Lord of the whatever movies - and silver eyes, which disconcerted Liam even more.
Probably contacts, he told himself, his own brown eyes staying trained, now suspiciously, on the figure. The glow of a ring on the man's finger caught Liam's attention and he quickly shifted his gaze. He thought it peculiar, but nothing more, until it glinted off of a dagger strapped to the man's arm. Only moments of observation had passed, but Liam's judgment was already close to being made. His once unassuming expression, surprised by the presence of another, had turned to something containing more inhibited consciousness. He fidgeted awkwardly at the entrance of the barn, his eyes suddenly glued to the unconcealed weapon now that he had discovered it.
"Uh, hi," Liam replied curtly, his tone carrying a nervous edge, then ripped his eyes away from the dagger to turn around and pretend to focus on the rain outside. He attempted to lean against the door, but the motion felt stiff in his apprehensive state and he stood straight. The interaction now - he released a breath - over, he brought up the image of the man grooming the horse in his mind. He shook his head. A dagger? He felt the weight of his own against his side and absentmindedly reached his hand inside his jacket to touch it, as if to make sure it was really there. He pulled his hand away at the eerily reassuring feel of the cold silver, dropping it back down to his side.
The image of the man and his horse returned once again to his mind. Instead of directing his attention straight to the man's dagger as he had done before, his mind's eye focused on a woman in the background, walking towards the man. Liam blinked, the image vanishing from his mind. He didn't remember seeing a woman before... He swiftly turned around, his eyes widened. He saw the man, back to grooming the horse, as they had been before, but there, walking away, was the woman.
"Hey!" Liam called out loudly without thinking. The horse in the stall nearest to him who had already been watching him with wide and wary eyes, spooked, squealing as it jumped and stumbled over his long legs as far away as he could. Liam barely turned his head towards the ruckus, his eyebrows furrowed over curious eyes, waiting for the people to react. He took a step deeper into the barn, his eyes jumping from the man to the woman. He was confused and unsure, a combination that normally didn't take part in his everyday morning ritual. He wanted to growl, frustrated now. Where was his damned landlord? Why was there an armed man in a barn? Why hadn't he noticed the woman before? He felt his temper stirring, but he immediately pushed it down. He definitely wanted to avoid getting aggravated or angry, knowing that it would easily run away from him if he didn't control it now.
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Tired xP *zzz* I would put more detail but...
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Postby Miranda » Mon Nov 07, 2016 7:37 am

Amara had a conflict of all conflicts storming in her brain. Could she reveal herself now? She wasn't sure if either one of them were ready. But wasn't it wrong of her to walk away, wait for a good time on her own? It was like the humanity was removed by her years of torment, because at this point it was hard for Amara to make a rational decision. Luka didn't notice her, it wasn't too late to leave now and not come back until she was fully ready. Amara was thinking about this when she was ripped from her thoughts by a loud call. Hopefully that wasn't Luka, but even if it wasn't, it didn't matter at this point because that yell would have his attention. Amara turned swiftly, thidigg her face from her brother, but facing Liam. She wasn't entirely sure what to do at this point, but it would be more obvious if she stayed standing here that she was alarmed. She shot a warning glance at Liam, before ultimately deciding to jog over to Liam. As she came up upon him, she surveyed him, judging every aspect of him. Nice hair. Okay eyes, least he wasn't blind or some crap. He looked strong, but she could put up a fight if needed. He didn't seem to be carrying a weapon, but there were things in his pockets. That could be anything. It was probably worth the shot. Gently she grabbed Liam's arm, but with a grip that showed she meant business. Then, she thought of what she was actually going to do- she hadn't previously had a plan, which really wasn't her best choice at this point. Loudly enough for Luka to hear, she addressed Liam, "C'mon Honey." Her eyes pleaded with Liam in a way she hadn't had to before. "Please." She whispered. And with her, there wasn't much for him to worry about, right? Her weapons were concealed, and she was a woman, how could she possibly take him? In her mind, millions of scenarios of what could happen right now surged. This stranger could turn and punch her. He could take her to Luka. He could not play along. Luka could recognize her. She realized this wasn't her best idea, she realized she would hurt her brother, but she just wasn't ready to be thrown back in quite yet. As far as the stranger went, she would explain later what on Earth was happening, but if he played along. That was all she needed.
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Postby Nazûl » Mon Nov 07, 2016 9:00 am

Luka shifted slightly. Eyes closely examining the male, who in return examined him. As Luka had a natural gift for putting auras into more relatable context, he also had adapted to reading body language. Time seemed to slow as the silver haired male took into account. Everything. About him. He took in the stench of wet dog. A shifter? Werewolf? Was there any other possibility? His nervousness really put him out of place, and was so strong that is seemed to drip off of his body as thick as syrup. This caused Luka's own presence grow even more rigid, and less regal. He could feel the barrier he had built around him weaken. The mist that kept him from looking like a half dead corpse. The male's strong gaze caused Luka to carry his own down to the rigid blade against his arm. Time seemed to return back to normal state, and for a moment he was tempted to banish away the sight of the weapon which was usually hidden by the mist. Then the male quickly turned away causing Luka to tense further. The feeling that he had already spooked another person caused him to also turn away in attempt to return his heart beat to normal. As the seconds past he was able to relax once more.
Then... a aura. Unusually familiar. Bittersweet. A presence that he could easily describe as roses, and smoke. Something faint; distant even like from a distant past. Yet bliss, and welcoming. Then the presence of smoke caused his lungs to tighten, and at the same time it was enough to cause him to choke. Luka tilted his chin up. Adrenaline threatening to cause his legs to weaken, and collapse from under him. He eyed her as she approached. Hoping that she might welcome herself to him. Yet, she turned away, and he was close to calling after her when the other male beat him to it. That alone only caused the mare, and her owner to redirect their attention. It was what the women did that caused the equine to spook. She threw her weight back. Sitting into her haunches causing her lead line to snap. The entire dramatic scene was enough to cause the male's barrier to completely collapse. Revealing the pale skin across his face, hollow cheeks, and eye sockets.
He moved back to the mare. Frantic to sooth her. "Amara. Easy. Shhh!" He cooed to her before grabbing ahold of her halter. She immediately lowered her head, and flared her nostrils as she pressed her head into his chest. He spoke softly to her as he rubbed her neck. "I am so sorry." Luka apologized to them without looking up. Silently, he walked her into her stall before shutting the sliding door behind them. The barn fell silent once more. The pitter-patter of the rain soothing the air that was once filled with dramatic static.

Within the depths of the dark stall the male slid down the wall into the bed of shavings. He snapped his fingers, and the mist returned to him like a cloak. The young mare watched him. Ears swiveling nervously. He looked up, and brushed a few strands from his eyes. "What a first impression, eh?" He chuckled softly. Amara pricked her ears at his voice before nickering softly. Luka stood, and patted her as he strode past her back to the stall door. He had to get it together. Gingerly, he opened the door before exiting. "Sorry about that. We only arrived earlier. Still a bit on the nervous side." He called down the aisle cheerfully. Quickly he walked back down to them. Dagger gone from sight that was once pressed against his arm. "It must be the rain." As he at last noticed that the female gripped at the male rather tightly, he lifted one hand. "Sorry, please excuse me." He nodded a farewell before disappearing into the rain.
(~,~)

---------------------------------

The female demigod was still perched on a fence rain. Rain beating down on the armor attire that she bore. She seemed unfazed by the water that bounced off of her skin like rubber bullets. Her hair was heavy now with the H20 that collected in the light strands of her pony tail. Yet, the ribbon held stead fast. Keeping the hair from blocking her vision as the wind kicked up. Her sword now rested in her lap. The once blank blade was now scripted with Greek legends about the god Poseidon. Her father. Being off such offspring meant that sitting in the downpour was much beneficial to her. Like a miracle drug that healed any toxins that coursed in her blood, and scars that had yet to heal. From this distance she was unsure of the true identity of any of the people that had entered the barn earlier. A part of her wanted to venture closer. Get a better look. The other part warned her to stay away. A loud crack of thunder rolled across the sky like the proud laughter of someone she knew. In respect. Zeus! After several minutes of being lost in thought she slid from the rail. Sheathing the glowing blade under her belt, and tossing her cloak over one arm. Effortlessly the demigod made her away through the raging wind, and rain towards the barn. Taking her gingerly time to retreat into the dryness of the stables.
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Postby Gingi » Mon Nov 07, 2016 6:50 pm

Liam's eyes continued to jump between the woman and the man. They both reacted the same at first, their attention turning to him. He didn't particularly enjoy being in the center of attention, but he kept himself from shrinking back now. The first to move was the woman, drawing Liam's attention. He watched with the same frustrated confusion as before as she jogged up to him. The sudden reaction of the mare caused his head to snap up though. The snap of the breaking lead rope echoed through the barn as well as the scuffling of hooves and boots as the man attempted to soothe the filly. Liam's eyes widened as his gaze fell on the man though. In the last couple of seconds, he'd changed from a healthy young man to something barely alive that Liam could scarcely recognize as the man he'd been greeted by only a minute ago. His skin seemed paler, with dark shadows cast below his cheeks and around the hollow sockets of his eyes. Liam's mouth dropped open, concern now replacing his confusion, and he began to step forward when he felt a firm grip on his arm. He tore his eyes away from the man and glanced down. The woman. He was too distracted to notice much other than strangely colored eyes and a pleasing face framed with colorful hair under a hood (she's wearing a hood, I think??). He cocked his head gently, moving his lips to form a word, or couple, probably along the lines of "who the hell are you?" when he noticed her expression. Liam's features softened and his mouth slowly closed. He didn't understand, and something told him that like a lot of things in the past couple of years, he couldn't understand right now. His nerves calmed and he briefly examined the person across from him for the first time. She was shorter than him, but still rather tall. She had some type of weird war makeup on her face, but it didn't detract from her pretty features. And, unlike the man, she didn't seem to be carrying any lethal weapons. After noticing the dagger on the man, and taking account his lack of knowledge on the town, Liam decided that check would be necessary. The woman passed.
Liam hesitated, but finally his head moved slightly in a small nod. He relaxed his posture, not noticing until then that he had stiffened and was leaning away from the woman when she had grabbed him. He hoped she would recognize his signals as accepting to play along with whatever she was planning. He reassured himself that if this took a bad turn, chances were, he could take her. Liam kept his eyes on the woman as he caught the movement of the man exiting the stall out of the corner of his eye. He only looked up when the man had reached them. He had returned to his previous appearance, Liam noticed, as the hollows beneath his cheeks were gone and the paleness of his skin washed out. His eyes scanned momentarily down to his arm. He blinked. There was no dagger. It was gone. Had he just imagined it? He looked back up at the man as he spoke again.
"Must be," Liam replied slowly. He noticed the man's attention change to the woman's grip on his arm before he spoke again, excusing himself. Liam turned his head to watch the man walk away until he assured himself the man wasn't coming back. His head turned back towards the woman, and though his look wasn't threatening, he made sure to convey that he wasn't playing around. His eyes flickered down to her hand still on his arm, a sign for her that it was time she removed it. "Who are you?" he asked.
------------
srry, I gtg xP again
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Postby Miranda » Mon Nov 07, 2016 8:47 pm

The stranger seemed apt in many things, things that made Amara very uncomfortable. He seemed to know things, he seemed to be able to read people, and that scared her. Nevertheless, she liked mystery. Plus, he was pretty damn gorgeous in her opinion, but she supposed that was just her opinion, right? Amara watched him quizzically, her eyes expressing the most joyous content as she watched her brother stride off. He was out of earshot. She knew that Luka seemed to be catching on though, his aura had dropped. She had caused his power to decrease. He looked like crap, though, and she felt bad, but she needed... she just needed to wait a bit. She listened to the stranger talk, his voice had a soothing affect on her. A second statement... Who was she? She sighed softly, watching Liam's telling expression for her to let go. When she brought it from his arm, she pulled down her hood with it. Her hand was oddly cold... Her hair was slightly messy from being under the hood, her french braid was a bit off now. It didn't really bother her, though. (Hoodie) (War Paint) Amara closed her eyes for a second, then took a deep breath. The least she could do was tell him her name. She knew she shouldn't speak it, because their spies were a many, but he seemed... safe. She had a bad habit of trusting people. that was what had gotten her into the mess she was in now- why she couldn't really trust people anymore. But she was falling back into her old habits. "Amara," she stated quietly, her eyes flicking up to his. "My name is Amara. Thank you for helping me. I... he can't see me yet. I'm not that ready. I thought I was." She added unnecessarily. She seemed to make up her mind, and pulled her hair from its french braid. Her vivid purple-blue hair cascaded lusciously away from the hair-tie as she separated the parting of the braid. She shook her head so that her hair parted correctly, then returned her attention to her stranger. "Sorry. Didn't catch your name," she stated with a tone that matched her eyes; cool and bold, but kind and soft. She was odd, there was no doubt, but in a collected and glorious way.

---

So. Short.
Last edited by Miranda on Tue Nov 08, 2016 10:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Nazûl » Mon Nov 07, 2016 9:33 pm

The lean male rested gingerly on a tree limb. Careful not to throw his balance off with the wind swaying him back, and forth. His legs hung loosing from where he perched. Leaves mostly shielding him from the downpour. His silver locks were surprisingly dry despite him striding carelessly to a oak tree in one of the pastures. The wind pressed against his soaked clothing causing him to be chilled to the bone. A feeling he has become accustomed to. Though, it was more of a mental chilling. Rather this time it lingered across the surface of his skin. Leaving more of a tingling sensation across the surface of him that matched the deeper sensation that had taken a hold on him. The presence was all too familiar. The more he thought about it the more the way he imagined the aura changed. Shifting from roses to a gorgeous flower. One that was equally as lethal as it was beautiful. As a simple nickname. The Suicide Flower. Further more the presence of smoke also changed by the way he envisioned the aura. The chocking feeling that he had once thought to be caused by smoke was actually the reaction of many things. Guilt, loneliness, and shame. So in conclusion the aura the female has given off was Shame, and Suicide. In regards to putting it short. As for the male. Unsteadiness was a sure factor. The best way Luka could put it in the way that someone could understand was the feeling you get when your legs weaken. When you feel as if your legs are not strong enough to hold you. Which would explain why he momentarily felt the way he did back in the stable. The other part of him was a mystery. Something he would best describe as being blind. Being completely unaware, and unsure.
After snapping out of his thoughts Luka had come to realize that sometime during his other state of mind he had subconsciously removed his wet shirt. Now the thin fabric waved gloriously in the wind as it perched on the limb beside him. His left hand had also come to rest over his pants where his left hip lie beneath it. A place where a certain tattoo rested. A special one that reminded him of the grief he so much deserved to feel. His chin tilted downwards at the slightest thought. Chest rising as he drew in a heavy breath. "I chased you away, and you ran. He too raced off. To find you, but to never return. Like you." He shifted. Biting back the words that were threatening to spill over with wavering emotions. "And then they came. And they killed him. They killed him, my dearest sister. They killed Reign. So who did that leave? It left me to grieve for the lost of you, my sister; my friend; and someone who promised to never leave." The male lifted his hand to swipe away the small salty tears that dripped down his face in rhythm to the rain. "And I bid you a happy life out of spite..." he continued. "But I miss you. You left us for him because he was the only one who seemed to comfort you desires. So for that I blame myself. And I am sorry." The waver in his voice ripped like small waves made by the rain in the puddles that lie beneath him. A small smile spread gingerly across his face. "Oh I sound ridiculous don't I Zeus?" He chuckled as he batted away the moisture from his eyelashes. In response thunder boomed ahead. The male could now vividly imagine the expression across the immortals face, for that wasn't the first time he has spoken to the heavens with a heavy heart. With that he gathered his shirt, and slid down the tree. Landing steadily across his feet. He swiftly wiped droplets of rain from his cheek bones. Regaining his regal posture as he stepped out from beneath the tree.
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Postby Miranda » Mon Nov 07, 2016 10:53 pm

"Good sir, don't cry." Mairya offered, her eyes flicked up towards him. She tapped a blade against her index finger, watching the strangely unhuman deep red drip from her finger. "Luka, right? Don't ask how I know you, I won't answer. I have information for you." she added coldly. She wasn't trying to be rude, she didn't have any reason to dislike Luka yet, but she had a bad feeling that the first word he said would make her dislike him, it was that way with most people anyways. She didn't know though, he seemed sort of different. Maybe she could at least loosen up on him a bit because he was crying, but he wouldn't need to cry but for his friend once she told him her news. Hmm. Mairya herself was pretty emotionless. It was almost like she was bred as a machine and nothing more. She was a pawn in a eternal game of chess. She had been trained since a child to do her job; and her job wasn't easy. It was only a couple hundred years ago that she was actually allowed to begin her job, that she was allowed "up" on "earth". She liked it here. So much... greed, power, lust, anger, so many people... people that she could kill because they were there. But she still had her job. And she had another job on top of that one, now. She was a messenger. And she was doing her job right now, both of them actually. "There’ll be two dates on your tombstone and all your friends will read ’em but all that’s gonna matter is that little dash between ’em." the woman said, tucking her dagger to her side. One of Amara's old daggers rest in her boot. Mairya, it so happened, owned the barn. She didn't do much around there, but she payed the bills; that's all that mattered.

---

really short but writing any more will just be pointless and sound dumb.
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Postby Nazûl » Mon Nov 07, 2016 11:10 pm

The male peered over his shoulder at her. A sudden disapproving mood rose from the pit of his stomach. Masking the one that was once previously there. A part of him wanted to slap her for easedropping on his one sided conversation. For having the guts to point out the fact that she had indeed caught him crying. Who was she to stand here out in the middle of one of Zeus's fits, and announce that she knew him. More than likely if she knew his name then it wasn't a good thing. Everyone who had knew his name thus far wanted him dead. Despite this he drew in a rigid sigh, and turned to face her. Arms crossed over his bare chest. It was near impossible to make out what few tattoos lay exposed across his skin. His irises deepened to a blood marked red on his command. If he spoke he would match the coldness of the lethal tipped words across her tongue. So. He stood silently. After she resumed to speaking he shifted. Frame becoming taller, and more bold. There. There was all he needed to know about her. He had made up his mind about her. "Such bold words you bring to me." He responded through the downpour. She was definitely someone sent to hunt him down. He parted his lips to speak again, but thought better of it. If it hadn't been for her tucking away her own blade he would have drawn his own. He needed to restrain himself.
White strands of hair whisped into the the wind. Dancing recklessly in his face. After several more moments of silence he brought his shirt up before slipping it over his head.
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Postby Miranda » Mon Nov 07, 2016 11:29 pm

Bold words. Psh, and she was trying to be comforting. She clenched her teeth for a moment, but relaxed a smile. The curve of her smile was appealing, or would be, if someone wasn't in a fit of rage, and soothing to most, and she only used it in times of complete distress... or actual joy, which didn't happen often. "I've brought you news, loud of mouth," Mairya spat, tapping her finger against her jeans as her wound healed. "It's about your sister, Amara. You can stop crying about her, dimwit. She's alive. And if you weren't such an idiot, you wouldn't let your emotions get ahead of you, and you would search for her. I don't know what your problem is but you're turning out to be the opposite of your mother! At least she was noble enough to not sit around and mope, but instead do something! Get off your ass and try, and stop being a [female dog] to everyone because you're in a pissy mood." Mairya took a breath. Noble? Poor? It didn't matter to her. When you were in front of her, you were just another person. She wasn't supposed to rant that much, but she felt that, after she'd done it, he did in fact deserve it, or maybe he needed it. She knew his reaction would be whiney and pissy because that seemed to be the type of person he was, but maybe he'd bite his "high and mighty" bull, and take the cold hard facts. Doubtful.
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