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Thread: Vestige of Time (Kit & Cam)

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    ♥Fiction♥ URPG StaffAdministrator Smiles's Avatar
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    Default Vestige of Time (Kit & Cam)

    Spoiler:

    @K'sariya & @Elysia

    hello lovelies <3! thank you for requesting this, K'sariya, and for being super patient! I'm hoping this will be a lot of fun - definitely willing to bend some things here and there with this RP and see what happens! I hope you both enjoy!

    Hard Mission:
    This mission requires at least two players, not including the NPC, with 25 IC posts from each character.
    Prize Package:
    • IC: any single ability upgraded to the next level; P3,000 on top of normal money that would be received from posting
    • OOC: a Hard Pokemon of your choosing + 3 TM's





    celebi PokeSoul
    #1 // wc: 565


    Silence sung to them. They leaned into the littlest of intonations, the soft sigh of a heartbeat lost among the greater isolating thrum of the world. It was the soft breath taken the second before the world imploded, a guarantee of an exclamation to be struck in the heart of cultures. Lucca and the dearly beloved within lived this way in harmony for a duration that could not be quantified. Tracing the nothingness left, following the fading notes to hear of a greater melody long lost, pursuing the vestige of truth with indelible passion. Today, the search for silence led the shared vessel to an iceberg in the heart of a vast and pure icelandia.

    They would not think about how long they sat and sculpted monuments from the ice. Up there, reflected in the glass of bright translucence, was Lucca’s most prized skill of a lifetime ago. A flock of sculpted birds lay suspended in the air with psychic power, their wings splayed as if frozen in flight. The arctic chill and midday sun blew life into those glass lives, highlighting countless eyes that stared off in the direction of some greater destination. Lucca sat atop the largest structure, a swan whose neck craned over twenty feet above the icecap. A green coat flowed down the side of the swan, weathered boots hanging off either side of the still creature. Lucca, so calm in the middle of it all, smiled, pale eyes alight under a green hat. This was the silence they treasured, a precursor to a celebration.

    A faded scroll lies in Lucca’s lap, feather and ink in either hand. With silence surrounding the sanctuary of art and thought, Lucca begins writing. They know either child through visions of a shared sentiment: the desire for some greater knowledge that one perhaps cannot so easily attain. Sweeping statements of adventures and loquacious elegance are sentences that parallel who they are: the adventurer! Their heart overflows with the idea of discovery. With wide writing motions, they tack on instructions on what the cherished Kayuqtuq and Cameron must do if they chose to pursue their offer for adventure. At the end, they sign either scroll the same: blue skies, Lucca. The scrolls are rolled up with twine neatly wrapped around them.

    Kayuqtuq, precious child: what is it that you desire to learn most of your people? Will you accompany us to discover them and piece together a part of history lost to our time books?

    Cameron, child of Elena: will you help us search the sands of time for a technological innovation lost to this current generation?


    Lucca makes a half heart motion with either hand. Two of the ice birds float down to land on extended hands, their bodies beautifully clanking as they do so. The scrolls fit into the hollow of their bodies and each bird begins to flitter upwards, only to be nuzzled by Lucca first. “If they seek the knowledge we desire, they’ll hold you in both hands, and you shall return to us bearing them,” the sculptor nearly sings. Caressing each bird, Lucca watches with delight as a soft psychic glow fills either being. In the blink of an eye, the messenger birds are teleported off towards the area of their respective recipients. Lucca lies back now with a lazy smile, the coat embracing their body slipping off with energetic indifference.

    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

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  3. #2
    Steel Soul URPG Staff K'sariya's Avatar
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    (( don't want to play the birds too much without your permission, so I'll try to leave them mostly to you <33 pm me if i do something wrong or misinterpret something, haha ))



    KAYUQTUQ "KIT" AALUK

    She is a vivid dreamer, as she has always been. But today it is the same as before. Endless ivory ice with swelling obsidian veins. Something massive lunges from the black in the distance, but the dream ends before the spray of the water fades. This dream of what she assumes is home arrests her, locks her in its embrace, repeats over and over until it begins to toe the line of a nightmare.

    Aput is awakened, but she is not. A peculiar sound piques his attention and rouses him from his slumber. He quietly taps into Kit's sleeping senses, navigating carefully around her dream lest he be sucked into it along with her. He will rouse her only if she needs to be woken. She is tired, the little one.

    He waits for the noise to pass but it only grows stronger. Mentally, he tilts his head, curious but also wary. It grows louder still and he no longer hesitates in drawing her from her tumultuous slumber. Kit jumps to consciousness with a violent start, stumbling back on her bed of worn pelts and nearly back into the side of her makeshift lean-to. Aput soothes her with a quiet hum until her labored and panicked breathing quiets to more shallow breaths, and until he can bring the frightened child to focus.

    She calms, but by then, the noise has stopped. Driven by her Pokesoul's curiosity, the girl steps to the front of her shelter with trusted dagger gripped tightly in one hand. Her other nervously thumbs her orca tooth for a moment before small fingers reach to cautiously peel back the drapery that covers the opening of her lean-to.

    Kit peers carefully out with one dark pupil flitting to and fro, searching for a potential threat. With no people or Pokemon in sight, however, she steps with great care from her shelter with the slowest and most apprehensive of movements. There seems to be nothing.

    She nearly turns back to take cover once more until she feels more comfortable to emerge to hunt, but the sound that Aput had heard while she had been asleep chimes softly. She whirls around to see a glimmer of ice and nearly lashes out at it, assuming it to be a Pokemon. Aput, however, stops her. It's not, he murmurs to her. Muscles ease but only slightly as she takes the time to examine the small thing.

    It is ice, alright, but it is not just a random shard. On closer inspection, she sees that it is formed into the shape of a bird, perched atop her lean-to. Eyes follow their form and to something peculiar--paper. Brows furrow with confusion. Curiously, carefully, she steps forward, a hand extending slowly toward the ice being. It waits patiently, still, while she gathers the courage to take the scroll.

    Hands open the parchment and her gaze skims the words. Frustration curls her lip. She doesn't know many of them. It would not be until later, under more intense scrutiny, that she will even realize that one of those words is her name. But she sees "people," and she sees "history," things she'd remembered from the book about Alaska. "Discover," too. Those three are enough to draw her interest. There are instructions, too. She looks back to the bird. They are harder to figure out, and while he thirst for knowledge growls to be sated, her impatience urges her to the source of this strange message.

    Hand extends, palm facing upwards. The ice comes to life with a pleasant tinkle, wings twitching to motion. It hops to her palm, and, startled, she brings her other hand to cup it. It gives the softest of glows and another clink of ice, before spreading its wings and ascending. It flies away a bit, then hovers and turns back a bit, patient, as if it waits for her. Lips twist with confusion, looking up at it expectantly.

    Should we follow it? she asks uncertainly of Aput. He considers it for a moment, then gives her a nod from within.

    In several minutes, she re-emerges from her lean-to, sleeping roll securely cocooning her belongings, attached to the back of her parka in a makeshift pack. Warily, she looks about again, nervous that some trap will be waiting, but there is only the bird. Kit ventures toward it, nervous.

    "Where to?" she asks it softly, as if she expects it to answer, unused tones rasping a bit from misuse.

    747 words.



  4. #3
    Comic Relief URPG Staff Elysia's Avatar
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    ooc || 466 words

    Cam stared at the coil of wire, puzzled. The motor lay inert, and there were probably fancier words for the big arms holding the coils up with the magnets, but that didn't matter. What mattered is that when the wires danced with energy, the motor spun. And when the motor spun, the wires danced with energy.

    Inductance, Wingnut would hum to her. Current. Impedance. She brushed him away; it didn't make sense with or without his big words. The motor spun again.

    "Cam, I'll be in council for the rest of the week, okay? You remember that, right?"

    Cam didn't look up from her workbench, but the muscles of her face dropped into a scowl. She adjusted the lamp so that it stopped casting a shadow on the crate-ish portion of the motor, and she lowered her goggles over her mop of red hair. Soldering was fun. You just had to be careful, and sometimes she wasn't.

    "Cam?"

    Just put a little bit of the silver stuff near the sharp metal bit, and then the heat lets it melt, and then the lead forms little leads (that was always a bit of wordplay that Wingnut liked to tease her with), and that's how the circuits formed.

    "Cam."

    The lamp flickered for a moment, and then went out with a hiss. Cam sighed as the smell of burnt filament filled her nose, and she watched the smoke coil away in the dusty air. No more distractions left. "Yeah. Okay"

    "I love you."

    Cam turned her attention to her newly-ruined lamp. The bulbs kept breaking whenever she was around, and she didn't know why. She stared sullenly at the burnt-out leads, knowing there wasn't much she could do, until she heard Elena Wayton's footsteps on the floor above her.

    Wingnut told her she was being too harsh. Cam ignored him, and continued to ignore him and Mom and everyone else except the perplexing motor and its half-finished solder job, until she heard a gentle noise from the basement window. She looked up, perplexed, just as a strange, crystal-like bird finished sliding the half-inch panel of glass open and flapped through.

    Cam stared in wonder as it flew a short lap around her head. Never in a million years could she build something this delicate, this elegant, and yet it surely couldn't be living. The bird landed in her real hand--it was cold to the touch, like ice--and she stared awestruck as she read the note it had passed her. Technological wonder, lost in time.

    She cast one last look of longing toward her workbench, and then looked at the ceiling, and then she reached out to cradle the bird gently with both hands. "Take me with you."

  5. #4
    ♥Fiction♥ URPG StaffAdministrator Smiles's Avatar
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    Spoiler:

    @K'sariya & @Elysia

    You are wonderful <3 feel free to manipulate the magic and do anything as you will!! Lucca wouldn't mind I don't think C=

    Also, please let me know if anything here or ever is confusing! my imagination tends to think everyone sees what I see heuheu

    Kit: 1 Post
    Cam: 1 Post

    Hard Mission:
    This mission requires at least two players, not including the NPC, with 25 IC posts from each character.
    Prize Package:
    • IC: any single ability upgraded to the next level; P3,000 on top of normal money that would be received from posting
    • OOC: a Hard Pokemon of your choosing + 3 TM's





    celebi PokeSoul
    #2 // wc: 851


    Lucca threaded a tiny strand of their life through those birds. With each passing mile and minute, they felt either strand growing taught with affection for their recipients. The crystalline critters shared the same mission or life view of their creator: to live a life of love and connection, to preserve that which had been silenced and amplify its voice. So it is with aplomb that the birds pierced the blue peaks of skies, plummeting through an iron sea of clouds to finally arrive at their destination. To be held and to hold others in their psychic promise of a greater discovery: here is where the hearts and intentions of the mysterious psychic traveler and their birds connected. Ah, and one finally made contact! Lucca’s heart glowed with affection. Curious fingers over the bird’s body were felt like light taps on their consciousness; another voice reverberated far in the background, as if behind a thick blanket. “Thank goodness,” Lucca murmured in good spirit, closing their eyes in the endless sunshine. “That must be you with the caution, Kit, and the one named Aput.” The one named Lucca closed their eyes again, honing into the perspective of the bird.

    In a moment, Lucca’s vision bifurcated between the sunshine and the figure of the child bearing her parka, pack, and sleeping roll on her back. With their physical body still atop the ice, the mentalscape of Lucca slowly flittered down as the bird descended gently to the eye level of the child. Lucca’s consciousness wraps around the child’s caution as if it might be their own. Slowly, unnaturally for a bird of this variety yet completely comprehensible for crystal, the entity spreads its wings. The shine of the day catches the tips, refracting light as if each could be their own sphere of rainbow. From this sphere, a golden light shines which envelopes the child and the entity within her whole. This sphere of light seems to take advantage of the properties of light itself, obscuring the visibility of the child as the sphere holding her seems to leave earth and drift upwards, upwards, upwards into…

    “Not where, but when,” a calming voice reverberates throughout the sphere. A vision of Lucca appears, the entity shrouded in green, blonde braids, and a tangible intent for goodness. “Hello there and welcome, Kit,” the projected image of the figure speaks softly. “We are Lucca. Well… not quite we that you see in front of you, but rather our soul.” They smile, closing their eyes as another crystalline bird enters the sphere, flitting gently around the duo. Their words are more images and intent than words themselves, a form of communication between two living entities that aspires for freedom of miscommunication. Such an ideal could only be hoped for, Lucca realizes, as they continually modify the way their very spirit of intent speaks. This psychic will continue striving, improving, broadening the capability of language.

    “Here’s one coming our way… as for the other,” Lucca muses, still sitting atop the crane. A secondary string pulls them towards the truth of the matter on Cam Wayton’s end. They sense the impatience, the craving for adventure… other feelings interspersed in the active and genius mind of the child with the one named Wingnut. Lucca envelopes this child in the same sort of sphere, not at all surprised with the alacrity for adventure. “Hello, Cam,” Lucca sings as they too enter the golden sphere that zooms across miles of the Surface Society’s sky. “We are Lucca, and we’re pleased to make your acquaintance. You will be joined by another that we’ll introduce you to.” The physical Lucca atop the swan lies with their eyes closed still, their head gently bobbing from left and right with the auspicious flow of psychic energy across a physical space. Lucca’s hand reaches up and waves through the air, as if joining the silent song.

    The next moment, the two golden spheres converged! The projected Lucca stood in front of the two children, smiling in a peaceful and reassuring way. Splotches of light landed in their mental body. “Cam, this is Kit, and Kit, this is Cam.” They attempted to introduce the two girls, easy as pie! The eloquent statements would come soon enough! “We are grateful to both of you, as we wish to travel throughout time. You both are the owners of talented skills, combined with a yearning for knowledge that spills out of your souls themselves…” The physical Lucca bent their head slightly. “However, this adventure is bound to be dangerous. We will protect you with all of our might and yet, we cannot bear to think about what would happen should something go awry.” The mental projection bent their head now too, acknowledging the grief plaqued onto a weathered soul. “We have a test of time for you to participate in to judge your eligibility for this adventure, if this is permissible for each of you. Should you say no, we will return you home without another word.”

    Physical Lucca sat up now, folding their legs and meditating for what would come.


    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

  6. #5
    Steel Soul URPG Staff K'sariya's Avatar
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    KAYUQTUQ "KIT" AALUK

    Aput alerts her to the shift. His low snarl echoes in the confines of her mind as his own thoughts prickle with hostility at being surrounded. Aput's aggression is contagious--her own conscience recoils at the touch, but finds nowhere to go. Then there is light and suddenly she is lifting from the earth. A yelp of surprise snaps from her lips, arms windmilling with the anticipation of losing her balance, but the loss never comes. Then, voice reverberates through her newly created prison. Regret pounds hotly through her veins, flailing ceasing as she fixes a fearful but cold glare on her new quarry.

    Brow furrows with confusion for a moment, and then her gaze softens. "Y-you are... A spirit?" Braids of sun cascade down the entity's form; she has not seen hair that bright except in her dreams. That, and the birds, and the light... Kit can only imagine that this is indeed a spirit. Her own soul eases but Aput is not so easily assuaged. His hostility spikes painfully against her. Face contorts with effort as she tries to push him away. Ears pin back against her skull. Aput surges against her with the full force of the panic of a caged animal. Kit's conscience stumbles, nearly falters--but then there is another in their suddenly-merged sphere and it takes both of them by surprise.

    Kit blinks rapidly, then forces Aput away, using the advantage to drive him down. Heaving breaths begin to slow with her finally having fully retaken her form. Weary gray eyes cast across the space of the sphere to look over her new... companion? Kit does her best to listen to what the spirit says.

    Without Aput's hostility rubbing so abrasively against her, Kit finds herself calming much more quickly. She doesn't know anything about what the time traveling business might mean but understands the word test the most out of the eloquent stream of words. However, test of time proves to be a new concept entirely.

    "What do you mean?" she asks tentatively. Having finally regained her bearings, she takes a moment to check the auras of them both. They seem... to mean well. However, she's not going to agree to any terms and conditions before she knows exactly what she's agreeing to. This whole thing is freaking her out a little, but she hasn't come this far just to meet a spirit and then chicken out.

    ### words.



  7. #6
    Comic Relief URPG Staff Elysia's Avatar
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    ooc || 462 words


    It happened so fast that Cam hardly had time to breathe. There was a moment as Wingnut's concern jolted through her like an electric shock, and his mechanical body rocketed toward her in alarm as if to stop her from touching. At this top speed, unburdened, they'd calculated that he could break the sound barrier.

    He was too slow.

    The crystalline bird responded with a poise and calmness that its metal counterpart utterly lacked. Wings of crystal unfurled and melded into golden light that enveloped Wingnut's fear, Cam's face, the entire room, and she suddenly had the feeling of weightlessness as if they were flying. Words washed over them, words that Wignut drowned out in frantic irritation what will mother think as he pushed on her and Cam found herself lacking the strength to push back. There was so much going on for her to take it all in, and between the surreal birds and the flying and the strange voice talking to her, she hardly had time to listen to another one of Wingnut's lectures. Where were they? Where were they going? She was almost done tuning him out when--

    They land. The light didn't wash away, but Cam was aware of two more entities nearby, and Wingnut, for once, was quiet. He hummed, irritated, from her arm--he had, she realized, managed to retract himself in those precious moments before they were taken away--but refuses to emerge. Think cautiously before you proceed. Things are approaching the point of no return, he warned her, and then resumed uncharacteristically silent.

    Perplexed both at the silence in her head and the scene unfolding before her, Cam bit her lip and threaded the fingers of her good hand through the drawstring of her hoodie. There was a young woman across from her, with ears and she acted as if she were talking to someone and she felt the same pull in the bottom of her stomach as if there were something more to this woman than met the eye, the same kind of pull she got when she'd spoken with Ixin.

    The one introduced as Kit seemed wary and the one who called herself Lucca seemed... different. Cam's brow furrowed as she tried to listen--travel through time? She hadn't heard that at the first message. Oops, and then the question was being posed. Always with the turning back, these people. Always with the questions and the restraint. Wingnut was wrong. There weren't points of no return.

    "Count me in."

  8. #7
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    Spoiler:

    @K'sariya & @Elysia

    <3

    Kit: Post 2
    Cam: Post 2

    Hard Mission:
    This mission requires at least two players, not including the NPC, with 25 IC posts from each character.
    Prize Package:
    • IC: any single ability upgraded to the next level; P3,000 on top of normal money that would be received from posting
    • OOC: a Hard Pokemon of your choosing + 3 TM's





    celebi PokeSoul
    #3 // wc: 602


    Lucca chuckles to themselves. Paragon of warmth and sunshine, a shared heart for you and me. This is the way they expect the children to be: Kit, the one both restrained and freed by Aput, and Cam, the one willing to jump into anything and everything even with Wingnut’s warning. “How much they have to learn from one another,” Lucca thinks as they eye the two children. A strange wish drifts into the soul of Lucca, one that they will savour for later. After all, Lucca is neither mother nor father; neither sibling nor beloved known one of family ancestry. Lucca is many things. But what they might be to these two children, right now, is the guide to some greater lesson about learning throughout this lifetime’s odd duration.

    “The ability to peer into the hearts of our ancestors eons ago, and to see for our own eyes what unfolded as their lives began and ended anew,” Lucca begins, “is the sacred skill I hope to share with you. However, this ability does not come without cost. Many a mortal woman and men have been made crazy with even the mere thought of time travel; and of those who have pursued it, many have not been able to return to their own time due to a lust for the unknown.” Lucca spoke in images, launching into their golden globe theater firework displays of people, places, pain, and emotion which struck into their own heart with depravity and longing. “It may very well happen to us one day,” Lucca admitted with a sad smile. “It seems we have only lived a day… and have only been saved by our suffering.”

    Lucca dug into one of their own memories now. Hurled into the space above was a black image smudged by the endless agony which distorted it. Therein lie Lucca on a banana leaf, sprawled out on the forest floor as murderous intention clawed their body up from within. Ripping apart at every organ which remained to reveal the nearly skeletal frame of the traveling medic. How many organs had they donated while lying in wait for the end? In those moments edging towards eternity, Lucca discovered a new sense of time. Suffering made their body limitless, weightless, in lieu of reliance on one’s physical existence. Embracing death at death’s gate changed something dramatically within them as the light filtered through smothering foliage… Before they heard the soft tones of a new language call out softly from above and below -

    “Our body was ready for the ability to transverse time by then,” the mental projection admitted with a smile. The emancipated vision above vanished. “We apologize, deeply, for having to show you that image. That was our test of time: the culmination of spiritual, mental, and physical belief, the moment wherein our suffering converted our bodies into a vessel for the properties of time itself to wrap around and warp. But now we know… it is not simply suffering that makes the body immune to the consequences of such a power.”

    Lucca smiled! “For your test of time, young ones, you must offer something proving your spiritual strength, mental fortitude, and physical wellbeing. This might be a dear memory of yours, an emotion which combined all three and pushed you to your limits, an item of significance, or whatever you deem best fit. If you deem it so, this sphere shall project it for all of us to witness, and judge you as befitting of time traveling or not. It is quite the task… yet we entrust you to make your best decision.”



    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

  9. #8
    Comic Relief URPG Staff Elysia's Avatar
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    ooc || 761 words

    Cam could feel Wingnut's transfixed curiosity curling up on the edges of her consciousness, along with all his doubts. She speaks of the impossible, he warned her, firing a volley of condensed information at her. Special relativity, he told her, the speed of light as constant--these were rules established for millenia. These were constants in and across every aspect of the universe, even in one that allowed for a web of planets wider than her imagination could fathom. Many things in the world were in constant flux, but the only one that could not be reversed was time, Wingnut was murmuring to her urgently, so fast she could feel his agitation coursing through her like an electric shock. There were some things that you could build better, prototype, disassemble, and remake to your liking, but time was not one of them. All you could do with time, Wingnut reminded her, was look into the past and watch as it slipped further out of your grasp.

    Cam pointed out that they were doing the impossible, once again, this time by floating through space, and the young woman in front of them had ears. Like, not the squishy human kind, and--

    Wingnut was intractable. Those were possibilities in the huge web of the universe. Random chance let you roll the dice as many times as you wanted and eventually you got Shakespeare, he was saying, but you were never allowed to unroll them.

    And yet even he fell silent as images projected over them, of time and space melding together and unspooling into ever-increasing knots. A proof of spiritual strength, mental fortitude, and physical wellbeing. Cam didn't understand what half those words meant--

    --something that proves that you're worthy--came Wingnut's welcome interjection--

    --and something inside of her recoiled from the idea of displaying herself with such boldness to two strangers. The lure of the impossible is almost not tantalizing enough for her to bare her innermost turmoils.

    But the thought that hit her harder, that settled like a lead weight in the bottom of her stomach and made her feel cold, came next. What did she have to prove herself worthy? To a woman who could bend time to her whim and had conspired to bring them both here, and, and--

    Wingnut spoke for her, at first in a language that transcended words, and then she could feel his voice reverberating through the still air. "Together, we grow strong."

    The golden dome rippled like Cam had thrown a stone into it, and the image of a small girl with flaming red hair formed on its warped surface. Her skin was pale and her eyes had taken on a shiny cast to them. Her left hand shivered uncontrollably, and she had curled herself into a as small of a ball as possible, even as her mangled sweatshirt grew darker from the blood.

    This isn't my most worthy moment, Cam wanted to shout back, but the words were stuck in her throat. This was the moment where she had nearly given up, where the loss of her home and her arm and her illusions of safety had all been taken from her against her will, and like Wingnut had said, that was in the past and there was no returning to it.

    The girl in the dome twitched suddenly, as if she had been on the receiving end of a bolt of lightning, and she suddenly sat up, her blue eyes alight with fresh sparks. There was fire in her, and her frantic fingers were suddenly alive, the cogs in her mind rushing as she calculated the only possible answer to her solution. The flock of skarmory had moved on, leaving her stranded and miles away from home and defenseless, but there would have to be a way back.

    "Are you at least going to show the rest?" Cam asked Wingnut, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. She was proud of the rest of it, when she wasn't pale and defeated and bloodied. Not this.

    It is in our darkest moment that we learn to shine, Wingnut told her gently, and then, to the room: "This is where the Maker and I learned to fight."

  10. #9
    Steel Soul URPG Staff K'sariya's Avatar
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    (( huge, huge apologies for the wait, have been out of town since the 19th or so sorting plans to move out of state soon. thank you so much for the patience! ))



    KAYUQTUQ "KIT" AALUK

    Ears pivot forward and flick with interest at the spirit's words. Brow slowly smooths as the confusion eases from her features in realization. Her people. The spirit was giving her the chance to learn about her people. Mouth falls slightly ajar, lower lip quivering for the slightest of moments. An array of possibilities flashes across her mind. There were so many things she wanted to know, wanted to learn. But, of course, there's a catch. There's always a catch. And as the 'but' is explained, Kit finds herself reminded of a time she found food only for there to be a raider lying in wait. Prey. She felt like prey, lured here by something tantalizing only for there to be something waiting for her.

    However, this something... this something was different. This was not a human or a Pokemon hungering for her flesh or for her supplies. Vision focuses, mind's eye honing in on the gentle glow of the others' sensed aura. It was... calming, free of the taint of ill intent. And yet--

    Attention is snatched away by images. Kit jumps at the sudden projections and hunches a bit warily. Orbs flick rapidly to and fro as she tries to see everything at once. And then there is just one, of the spirit before her. Countenance scrunches with puzzlement for a small second before it melts away once more. This must be the spirit's life before death, before ascension. She watches. The light, the form, the powers. It all fits nicely into the few memories she has of her people. This is the power they'd always spoken of seeing in dreams when she was but a babe. This was the kind of being that they'd hope would eventually deliver them from the ache of empty stomachs and the cold steel of society's injustice.

    And so they are given the caveat. The girl recoils at the thought of putting any private memory out on display for another individual. She figures that the spirit already knows everything about her but the other girl? Kit's nose wrinkles a bit with the smallest of semblances of contempt. Man has always been her enemy, and always would be.

    The girl, however, buys her time. Prison surface ripples violently as a voice that doesn't seem like the others' complete own echoes in Kit's ears. It is then that she takes the time to scrutinize this... Cam. She notices the peculiar metal arm. Her disdain slows as she sees this, considers the voice and the things that might have brought her here. Could she be...? Kit had never met another. With attention captured by the figure of the other individual herself, she misses the first part of the projected scene. Only the sudden surge of power cast upon the orb's inner surface finally snaps her attention to the memory put up for examination. Gut twists. She empathizes with that fire, with that flood of determination.

    For a long moment after the memory fades, Kit thinks. Dark eyes cast down to gaze at her own open palms. Abyssal pupils slowly trace the creases of weathered hands. Then, she unsheathes her knife and reaches into the neck of her parka. Free hand draws the corded sinew from the warm depths and cuts it cleanly at its tied back. She grabs the orca tooth, then pauses with it balled in her fist before tossing it deftly up into the air.

    Slowly, the fang drifts upwards, a soft glow enveloping it before bursting outward in a flash. The sphere darkens with the environment of her memory, warmed only by the gentle cast of firelight.

    Adjusting eyes slowly come to recognize a small, dimly-lit figure, its inked silhouette dancing against a circular enclosure of well-packed sod. The young girl, no more than four, heaves herself with great effort up and over the edge of the cot, where she perches carefully on its edge. Head cocks to one side as she stares down at the figure cocooned within.

    "Aaka?" comes the high-pitched query. At first, no response emerges, but then, a sickness-paled hand slowly raises from the bed of hides. Dangling from a cord of sinew is a tooth. The girl pushes the necklace back, shaking her head, but the figure insists.She takes it in tiny palms. The hand slowly falls.
    "Aaka?" Comes the peal again, but this time, there is no response. The fire flickers, then fizzles out. And for a moment, the only sound in the sphere is the wailing of a child.

    The darkness fades, giving away once more to light. Kit stares at her feet, her stare cold.

    770 words.



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    Spoiler:

    @K'sariya & @Elysia

    ahhh no worries at all! <3 wishing you the best of luck with the move!

    Kit: Post 3
    Cam: Post 3

    Hard Mission:
    This mission requires at least two players, not including the NPC, with 25 IC posts from each character.
    Prize Package:
    • IC: any single ability upgraded to the next level; P3,000 on top of normal money that would be received from posting
    • OOC: a Hard Pokemon of your choosing + 3 TM's





    celebi PokeSoul
    #4 // wc: 758


    Their empathy is everything about them. As the images of suffering come filtering into the sphere with the brightest of light, the physical Lucca stands up on their swan. They witness the memory offered by Wingnut, hanging onto every word and image painfully shot out. Peering through the layers of blood and loneliness and agony, Lucca hones in on the conflict too between the young child and her Pokémon within. This is not her brightest moment, she must think, but the guide within to the precocious child knows that this moment is the turning point in their life. Lucca witnesses the fleeing Skarmory, shaking physically at the fear and pain that wraps around the child. Soaking blood. What world do they belong in where this is reality? Profound sadness falls upon Lucca’s physical face, their eyes locked out from the darkness and light jointly unfurling for now and the future. Knee-high, white laced and weathered boots crunch the bits of ice and snow under them as the entity stretches their body out. With their arms up to the sky, eyes still closed, they begin a chant that clanks slowly in time with wings of crystal birds.

    “What an exceptionally bright moment…” the physical form mutters to themselves. On the other side, the spiritual soul of Lucca watches with the utmost fascination and caring the story of the one named Kit. A child stranded in a world alone: her calling of that name will echo forever and ever in Lucca’s heart. The orca’s tooth gently graces the sphere’s surface, causing it to ripple outwards with the energy of such a sea of emotion. How young might she be in this image?... what must it feel like realizing that one all alone in a powerful and cruel world? The sphere gently returns the precious treasure to the child, the anchor of memory slowly falling towards small hands that deserve so much more. On the tips of their toes now, the physical Lucca embraces these images with all of their empathy. Those loving children, young warriors: their stories are true; their hearts are pure, shining incandescence and rays of resilience in this world. A small point of light emerges from the space between Lucca’s outstretched hands, blowing up by ten times its size as the memories fade away. Their folds of their robe and braids shoot upwards, coaxed by the power activating from the swirling vortex -

    “Kit and Cam,” the mental projection of Lucca states, “you have been deemed worthy indeed by a power beyond our own understanding.” As they speak, the golden sphere reverberates with a new type of shine. “Further we’ll go, together! This power means that you’ll withstand the immense sway in the streams of time. We congratulate you on what it means for you to have come this far.” A genuine smile graces the face of Lucca as that shine reaches down to hug either child in its sheen. A blessing, a metaphorical coat for the cold, a gift of good fortune from Lucca to them. “Our journey begins now.”

    Suddenly, the sphere begins spinning out of control. Their bodies are suspended, safe, from the accelerating force of the mental projection expanding. The pressure increases until it seems like the very dimensions of physical space are being nearly discovered; and then, when it culminates to an impossible point, it pops! The gold drains out from the vision in lieu of white and stunning brightness. The spiritual projection of Lucca fades away as psychic force places the children lovingly on a cold slab of ice. Here and all the way over there: everything in-between is ice cold and boundless tundra. In the distance, the physical Lucca stands, their tall form a green spot among the blues and whites.

    “Hi Kit! Hi Cam! We’re all ready to go! We’re so happy you’ve made it thus far!” the person cheers, waving their arms wildly towards the children, although no other person could be found in this lost ice wonderland. They still stand atop the swan, which has disembarked from its cradles of ice and now floats steadily in the freezing water. Two seats are etched into the back of the swan, seats made specially for them. Above, the remainder of the ice birds swoon in the sky. The arches they make above point towards a misty distance. They are pointing the way towards the vast river of time the trio is soon to embark upon. Lucca smiles and laughs, the hopeful tone warding away the silence and darkness ahead.

    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

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