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Thread: superbeast (med mission!)

  1. #1
    ♥Fiction♥ URPG StaffAdministrator Smiles's Avatar
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    Default superbeast (med mission!)

    Spoiler:
    Medium Mission:
    This mission requires at least two players, not including the NPC, with at least 15 IC posts from each character.
    Prize Package:
    • IC: P1,500, on top of normal money that would be received from posting
    • OOC: a Medium Pokemon of your choosing + 1 TM


    warning: clowns and scary stuff


    #1 // wc: 506

    Stils arise out of the marshy swampland as thin as the weeds would. If there were weeds, for the nefarious aura surrounding the establishment wilts the very seed, they might scream forever upwards only to be silenced by the ever low pulse beating at the heart of it all. That pulse rolls out across the land, oppressive with a vibration which will never allow the feeler to forget the words Traveling Circus.

    All the stilts form a skeleton, a red-and-white striped cover stretched across them all like skin. From the outside, the covering edges wisp across the murky, uncertain water below. The stils grunt as they pull themselves forwards in an erratic way, moving with the devastating force of two tectonic plates sure to collide. With the sheer gravity of its own movement, the Traveling Circus switches off all the light on this side of the EarthWorld. Muddy darkness permeates every inch of swampland. The world itself seems to slow to a stop as the stilts carry on forwards, moving the circus of their own volition straight into the heartland of this area. A loud thud - land - hits the bony structure of stilt and the covering begins unfurling. The world begins again, this strange phenomenon resetting the clock. This side of the world will wake up to see a traveling circus propped up in no man’s land. The vibration crescendos, tangible and never ending in its onslaught. It calls to you and to your loved ones miles away.

    The tent unfurls what feels like a mile high in the air. Wind gusts through the swampland, sloshing the tent with the putrid water. This swampland runs rife with vicious feral Pokemon who stalk the surface of the water, always ready for their next meal. Yet some strange aura emerging from the center of the tent repels them for now. Ripples of fins and scales slice through water, disappearing with alacrity as they move away from the circus. As the creatures move away, the cover of the tent thickens. Pieces and parts from within move, stamping the word CIRCUS from the inside-out. Within the blink of an eye, the circus becomes circuitous, bending its back this way and that to accommodate for its own design. The following moment, a rectangular box appears outside of the circus.

    Sitting directly below the stamped logo, the rectangular box imprisons a doll the size and shape of a human. The non-person smiles perpetually, a curve perfectly angled across their face ear-to-ear. Tumbles of black hair spill out across high cheekbones and a velvet vest. The pulse beats within them too. Glassy eyes stare outwards, seeing nothing and everything, eagerly awaiting the approach of the living. When one comes near, the entire box lights up. The words “fortune teller” appear as the entire doll springs to life.

    “Today only! Fortunes in exchange for free admission to the circus,” the doll speaks, its words out of synch with its moving mouth. Its head turns to eye you, swallowing with its sight your whole presence.
    Last edited by Smiles; 05-08-17 at 01:02 AM.

    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

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  3. #2
    Loot's Avatar
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    Just... stay still damnit!!


    His eyes gleamed gold, pupils narrowed into two black slits; his almost fifty-year-old muscles exerted more force with each motion than any normal human’s possibly could; his breathing was as silent as his movements across the swampy, damp floor. His other Soul was practically in full control, as was always the case when a prey came into sight; in this case, a large Arbok who’d long realized it wasn’t being chased by an ordinary human – otherwise, there’d be no reason for fleeing in the first place.

    I just need to nab it… and Luxray will go dormant again. Please, please let yourself be caught!

    No matter how many times the black demon forced him into doing it, Ulrik could never find pleasure in hunting down and killing wildlife, even if they too were Pokémon. But he’d long made peace with the fact that there was no reasoning with Luxray; all he could do was carry out the dirty deed and send the Soul back to sleep.

    There was no way a middle-aged man would be able to match a beast born of the Loveland Meteor; from an evolutionary standpoint, the demons were simply superior to humans. Sure, some of them were slower than a crawling baby, but also invariably stronger than a tank; others were blistering-fast, capable of felling a grown man in a single motion. They could harness the power of elements, bend rock and metal to their will, some even tap into the minds of their enemies and break them from the inside; others could traverse freely into the world of the dead and summon the power of the very shadows. Humans were, simply put, no match for the horrors that came from that meteorite.

    Humanity was fighting a losing battle; it was no wonder that they were forced underground, expelled from the surface of EarthWorld. The only ones capable of surviving in The Wild were those armed to the teeth with weaponry strong enough to repel the creatures, or freaks like Ulrik, whose very body had been invaded by a second presence… one of them. In Ulrik’s case, he’d gained the power of lighting, the sight of a lynx and the strength of a predator. All that in exchange for his own humanity – a deal he never agreed to.

    The gargantuan snake slithered its way ever deeper into the marsh, with Ulrik in hot pursuit. All he needed was one clean shot, one pulse of electricity with which to paralyze the Arbok; from there, the meal was all but assured. Yet, the venomous beast kept clinging desperately to life, time and again trying to lose its pursuer through the countless puddles of toxic water and patches of decaying grass that punctuated the landscape.

    It’s futile… I’m sorry, I don’t want to do this. But it’s the only way…

    Electricity gathered in Ulrik’s right fist; his enhanced eyesight locked in on Arbok, temporarily unprotected as it slithered out of a small lake up ahead; time seemed to slow to a crawl as the hunter homed in on his prey, ready to immobilize it…. And then, he heard it.


    “Today only! Fortunes in exchange for free admission to the circus!”


    The Heiml-native froze in place, jaw wide open in sheer disbelief. The Arbok, in turn, couldn’t care less for the sudden out-of-place-advertisement, and took the chance to escape for good.

    What the hell?

    His eyes and ears did not deceive him, much as he wanted it to be the case. Out there, in the middle of nowhere, in a danger-filled swamp, miles away from any underground pockets of human resistance… someone had seen fit to put up a goddamn circus.

    So strong was his incredulity that it must have stunned even his other Soul; Luxray went dormant as soon as the eerie voice had reached his ears, all feral instincts and demon-lent powers abandoning Ulrik’s body instantly. He was now effectively a regular human, and like any regular human, curiosity overwhelmed him. Cautiously, he walked towards the strange-looking tent that had been erected over the marshy soil, heading for the person sitting behind a rectangular box below the large “CIRCUS” logo. But as he approached, he realized something even more bone-chilling.

    That’s not a person.

    Indeed, the fortune-teller was a life-like human doll instead, empty eyes staring into the void and his very Soul (which one?) at the same time. His survival instinct cried and yelled for Ulrik to leave that place at once, but something else – something he thought he’d lost a very long time ago – caused him to linger. A childish sense of wonder and morbid curiosity, he realized, luxuries he couldn’t afford to have so long as Luxray remained in control of his life. With him now strangely absent, Ulrik decided he’d allow himself to behave like a human for a change. He wanted to know more.

    “H-hello,” he stammered, as a mixture of fear and anticipation coursed through him. “L-let’s see what you got for me, sh-shall we?”


    -----

    Post #1
    Word count: 837

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  5. #3
    Steel Soul URPG Staff K'sariya's Avatar
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    (( first post with her! oh, boy, am I hella nervous. for reference, you can click on the name gif above to get to her profile. ))

    In tall boots she sloughs through the muck, grim expression planted against her features. Rippling red hair is pulled back into a tight bun, away from the sweat that glimmers on her forehead. Blood pulses through crimson tubes. Each step sends another pump of blood down into the hilt of the massive weapon that she holds at ready by her side. Crystalline eyes roam back and forth across the water-logged landscape.

    She hunts, but for different reasons--while the one called Ulrik follows primal urges of the repulsive creature locked within him, Avignon hunts for parts with calculated rationality. The woman seeks poison, and finds no better place to search for it than the sickly swamp she's found herself in. A decade ago, it would have been a haven for alligators and snakes, so she figures that there will be no problem finding their Pokemon counterparts here.

    Avignon picks her way through the most solid spots. Each foot she steps down twice; once, gently, to test the ground, and the second with her full weight to move forward. The Transistor's end drags slightly through the muck.

    Sudden sound of a body ripping through the undergrowth jumps from the silence. Instantly, the woman drops down onto the balls of her feet, putting herself low to the earth as a huge Arbok streaks by. Avignon nearly jumps up after it; this was exactly the kind of creature she'd been searching for, to extract the venom from to tip her weapons with. But she stops herself, knowing that a creature that dangerous wouldn't be running unless it were being chased.

    An older man streaks after it, garbed in black and yellow, with dark lavender hair. He moves fast--impossibly so--and Avignon's eyes narrow dangerously as her gaze follows him. Filth, she snarls lowly in her thoughts. Eye of the Transistor flickers briefly with light as the tormented soul of the Bronzong murmurs something to her. It is intelligible, but dark, as the conscience trapped within responds almost giddily to her aggression.

    Tall frame pauses after a few long moments, then moves silently after him. If she caught him while it was easy, she'd not only get what she needed, but also invaluable parts to aid her in the future. She couldn't tell what exactly he was but it may be worthwhile to find out. Both of their pursuits are stopped short, however, by the voice. It freezes him and nearly freezes her, halting her just enough to pull her back against the thick trunk of a mossy tree to shield her form from view. Eyes strikes from side to side as she processes the projected boom of dialogue. Circus?

    Nostalgia fights up. She forces her breathing to remain calm as she turns to watch the man exit her view, to a clear spot up ahead. Avignon can see the brilliant red stripes glowing through the dark foliage of the trees. Chills race up her spine to draw raise the hair along her arms. The Transistor murmurs. Nothing is right here and yet she is drawn to it all the same. So she advances, hovers beneath the grim shade of the treeline as she watches the man's approach from a healthy distance.



  6. #4
    Comic Relief URPG Staff Elysia's Avatar
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    word count: 432

    "Mom said I could!"

    Cam, there's a non-trivial difference between someone neglecting to say that you can't do something and someone saying you can do it.

    Cam shifted her weight uncomfortable and looked stubbornly up and to the left, as if not meeting Wingnut's non-existent eyes. He wasn't even deployed, but she could still feel him judging her.

    "Mom said that this part of the wilderness is perfectly fine."

    First of all, she certainly didn't say that. But, Wingnut responded testily, with a superhuman level of restraint sinking into each of his next words, she said it would be wilderness. This is a circus.

    "I know, right! And that's awesome."

    Isn't that just the slightest bit strange to you?

    "Nope."

    The mechanical marvel really didn't have much to respond to this -- on some level, some fights were just unwinnable, and fighting was difficult when you were a dedicated pacifist and also didn't have a body.

    Cam was already zipping up her hoodie and wading into the swamp, trying her best and failing to keep the mud off of her striped stockings. Mud and grime were old. This was new. This was interesting. There was something fundamentally alive about this place, something more tantalizing than a regular circus.

    (Cam hadn't actually been to a regular circus, but Wingnut had told stories, and she could just tell that this one was definitely cooler).

    The older soul spoke of something not quite right, of how there was an air of grim and deception; things that shouldn't quite be trusted now or then or ever. Wingnut could sense that, in a tiny, almost imperceptible way, there was something strange about this, something dark, something that became rapidly tangible the closer they got. Go away, the doll with the visage of a human screamed to him, even as the conveyed message was come closer. There was the memory of sharp jolts of lanturn, enticing lights and anglers that glimmered until you were too close and then tore your paralyzed body to shreds.

    And the older soul knew of something more pressing, more terrifying: there was no such thing as free admission. Admissions were exchanges of money for entry; worse, admissions were secrets, and secrets carried a heftier price.

    But the younger soul saw only the intrigue and the wonder, and she was the one walking them ever closer, to politely stand in line behind a grizzled man with eyes that had seen too much and wait her turn to enter the belly of the beast.

  7. #5
    Bubblebeam
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    Elliott was sick to death of this damn swamp.

    It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Okay, that was a lie. It had seemed like a better idea than staying in one of the settlements on the edge of the swamp, where everyone was suspicious of outsiders.
    "Especially that one lady..." He shuddered a little, remembering the old womans hawk-like stare. The caterpie soul inside him shuddered too. Birds could mean death, it knew, so it had urged him away from her. Some people you click with immediately, and some people you know even without speaking that they might take your eyes out. Whether she was some sort of fearow pokesoul or just a native of the area with a disturbing affiliation with birds of prey, he hadn't stuck around to find out. So he'd traipsed off into the swampland.

    It was a terribly uncomfortable temperature, whether that meant it was too cold or too hot it was always too SOMETHING. With few trees for shade, and precious little hard land to stay warm and dry on, it was not a fun journey. Oh! And not to mention the chill-inducing rustle of bushes and slick sounds of water as the deadly swampland creatures moved about all day and night.
    He'd spent one night out in the swamp, and he was not keen on spending another.

    As if answering his needs, a psychic message boomed in his head.
    His gaze immediately swung towards tentpoles he hadn't noticed earlier.
    "Oh, thank goodness! I don't have to sleep outdoors again! Maybe they'll take me in for a while!" He rejoiced out loud (but to himself) and began sloshing his way there.

    Leaving the long grasses behind at the edge of the clearing, he noticed a few people were already there.
    "Wow, who'd have thought so many people would be wandering around a swamp, eh?" He grinned, taking his place in queue.
    "Are you here with your grandpa, kid?" Elliott nudged the girl in front of him and nodded at the more stoic looking man in front of her. "He's got a pretty hip hairstyle!" Elliott began commenting, then laughed nervously, hoping to goodness that it was hairdye. It was probably not hairdye. Oh dear.
    Trying to shake off his anxiety by chatting more- and hoping he wasn't about to stink up the place, he continued babbling away.
    "To tell you the truth I'm not super keen on circuses, always found them too expensive and a little bit gaudy, you know? But it beats spending another night in the swamp, right? It's an odd place to set up but hey! Maybe they have like, trained arboks and other swamp creatures doing tricks? Or maybe whoever navigates the troupe took a wrong turn and they figured they wouldn't waste a night and set up in the swamp anyway? Theres plenty of reasonable explanations for a giant circus tent in the middle of nowhere..." he had gazed around at the edges of the clearing, then at the tent itself, and trailed off, taking in the person-sized doll.
    "Woah! Is that thing going to tell our fortunes? It's like those heckin voltaire machines but way more uncanny valley!" He censored his swearing slightly since a kid was around, unsure if he should be spooked or awed.

    Post 1, Words 552

  8. #6
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    Post #1, Kieran

    Armed with only his wits, a rucksack of rations, and the clothes on his back, a traveler roams through the swamp. His pace is swift despite the muggy conditions, for should one keep their feet on the ground in this place, the soggy earth of the mire eagerly seeks to swallow them. There was an eerie chill in the air, a suffocating darkness and a fog thick with malice. It was as though this place had developed specifically to keep wanders away. There was not a single reason to visit a place such as this but when a brave- and admittedly reckless- soul senses something so obviously amis, well, some investigation was in order.
    Kieran hadn’t intended to travel out this way, but rather to continue his search for a city that still stood. The decision to take a detour was made for him however, as he felt a deep rumble from within him. It was not hunger however, for it came from his soul- a presence near to his very core. Something had put Argent, the Chesnaught within the young man, on edge. He was growling, and he never did that! Then the dull pulsing headache began. For quite some time Kieran felt nauseous, and his skin seemed to crawl. But just as suddenly, it all faded away.

    “That was…” the young man began, his voice breaking the silence. He trailed off in his thought, for he had no words to finish it. Now he was deep within the mess of choked plants starving for the light and gnarled, blackened trees stripped bare of their leaves and reaching into the air like broken fingers. As though to take a further turn for the unsettling, it all looked the same no matter which direction he looked. It was safe to say that Kieran was lost, having devised the strategy to continue on in a straight line until he reemerged from the treeline. If he came across the source of the disturbance then so be it, and if not, then maybe he was just letting superstition get the best of him.
    And this brings us to now. The sturdy young man splashed his way fairly briskly through the cloudy water, combat boots caked in the mud scraped by the bottom of the quagmire as he trudged forward, and his sand colored cargo pants had soaked up water all the way up to his knees. He shivers- whether from exposure or the atmosphere is impossible to stay- the hairs on his body twisting into quills as goosebumps form until they settled back into place. Up until now he’d always felt safe with the unshakable Argent within him, but something had gotten the Pokemon startled. They couldn’t both be worked up over nothing, right?

    A commotion up ahead forced the young man to jump in surprise, every muscle in his body tensing as though ready to lash out. There was not a soul in sight, and it only now occurred to Kieran that he’d yet to hear a sound that didn’t come from him since he stepped foot in this place. Ordinarily he’d call out, but was far too rattled to try something like that. Nothing to do but carry on. He crouched ever so slightly, and balled a hand into a fist. Encouraging Argent to take over his eyes and ears, Kieran hoped to avoid getting jumped by something that meant harm as he advanced. And then in the distance… Was he seeing things, or was that canvas? Deep reds and faded white that still appeared stark against the grays and blacks his eyes had grown accustomed to. “The hell?” He muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes as he stepped forward to ensure they weren’t tricking him. A circus tent? Here of all places?” As improbable as it was, there stood the big top right before his eyes, even accompanied by mechanical voice to confirm it, as well as the murmuring of a small crowd. Was that the source of this energy? That was just silly... unless he’d been suppressing some incredibly intense fear of clowns since he was young. Speaking of being a kid, he hadn’t gone to a circus in ages! While his host dropped his guard, Argent remained on edge but allowed himself to calm down. Spurred on by the sight of the clearing before him Kieran picked up his pace to end up rather clumsily stumbling out of the muck onto reasonably solid ground once more.
    Instead of striking up a chat with a member of the crowd, the young man gazed upon the scene before him. The big top loomed eerily before him. It looked like it belonged here strangely enough. This was clearly an aesthetic they were aiming for, and boy had they blown it out of the water. “I think I remember hearing about a trend like this.” He spoke, but to no one in particular. “But I never thought I’d get to see a Gothic circus.” He added, least of all in times- or locations- like these. By now people were making moves seemed to be making a move, for the booth. Perhaps it was curiosity, or the offer of the free admission.
    A sense of nostalgia had been ignited within Kieran. Spurred on by the bravery bestowed upon him by the presence of other people, he approached the booth and the doll, fighting hard to prevent another bout of shivers from surfacing. Another had already gotten to the booth, and two more looked prepared to do the same. Without a word he took his place in line behind them. This would be a welcome distraction, and surely he could follow someone out of here when the show was said and done.

    Word Count: 958
    O.O.C:If you folks have got too many I don't mind dropping out. Just assume Kieran carries on out of the swamp, and good luck everybody!

  9. #7
    ♥Fiction♥ URPG StaffAdministrator Smiles's Avatar
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    Spoiler:

    Note: this is now a closed mission!

    Medium Mission:
    This mission requires at least two players, not including the NPC, with at least 15 IC posts from each character.
    Prize Package:
    • IC: P1,500, on top of normal money that would be received from posting
    • OOC: a Medium Pokemon of your choosing + 1 TM


    THIS looks like it'll be a ton of fun! thank you all so much for posting and joining in this wild ride. don't worry too much about post order; since there are many players here, there's plenty of different combinations for interacting with one another and I too would like to be versatile in the plotline to accommodate that! so yeah, go at your own pace and don't feel like the order has to be too rigid.

    @Loot ; Ulrik: Post 1
    @K'sariya; Avignon: Post 1
    @Elysia; Cam: Post 1
    @Lychee; Elliott: Post 1
    @Dekrueger; Kieran: Post 1


    #2 // wc: 570

    So the circus calls to the eclectic group which gathers in front of the wearied and faded tent cover. The lithe and agile man, pristine in his hunting spirit; the child full of winsome wonders as vibrant as the goggles atop her crown of hair; the nervous chatterbox of a man with the bright green hair; the Protector who had seen more tragedies than someone three times his age. Another soul, vicious with her passion and beauty, waits with caution in the background. Already, the circus has begun its next act. The audience has arrived with aplomb for the circus’ capacity to entertain and the entire entity swells with the knowledge of the living, as if reaching out physically to embrace them all - cold wind rushes forth with a sinister sigh, the relief breathed out upon them all. Here are five different mortals mapped out before them, each soul a section of a thousand different historical timelines and abilities. The tent of the Circus gently expands again, its flaps threatening to lift up and spoil its greatest surprise.

    The energy flows into the doll within the fortune teller box. At Ulrik the being looks, seeing past the beautiful man-hunter and straight into the Luxray’s soul simultaneously. The fortune teller’s eyes suddenly flicker with the murky glow of two red lights; it body begins moving at an unnatural pace to wave hello to Ulrik, a wide, sweeping gesture that manages to make the teller slide its own forearm past its face to its own unrecognition. The lights of its eyes flicker on and off before the mouth suddenly drops. This moment seems to span onwards for a short infinity. Eyes continue flickering on and off, the entire box trepidating slightly with its own anticipation! Infinity ends at ten seconds, when the being’s mouth closes once more and it folds its forearms in front of its chest. Next, words come spilling out of the mouth, smooth and fluid as human speech. It looks right into Ulrik and not at him at all.

    “Very bad luck.”

    Suddenly, the switches in its eyes vacillate from on and off at an alarming rate; waist and torso angle themselves to face the child behind Ulrik, Cam. “Congratulations, child! For today only, children receive free admission into our circus.” One rubbery hand lifts upwards, fingers slightly splayed, as the body throws its hand towards the front of the circus. It motions towards Ulrik and Cam; simultaneously, something creates a tiny slit in the fabric. Pure darkness emanates from the tiny opening meant for both the larger man and the smaller child. Nothing guards the entrance, its temptation tangible in thick, heavy waves that one cannot wash off the skin.

    “Bad luck,” the fortune teller repeats again to Ulrik, its mouth still out of sync with the perfectly articulated words. “Give me your palm for a re-reading of your fortune.” There is a small hole at the edge of the glass for Ulrik to chose to do so; and the teller’s hands ravenously devour the last inches towards the edge on the other side of the glass.

    Now, the teller faces Elliot and Kieran, addressing them both as it explains, “Your fortunes, as they have not been told, may either be read through a card or a palm. Which do you chose?” The lights of the eyes flicker once more - and this time, the teller blinks.

    ❤ MISTRAL IMMORTAL ❤

  10. #8
    Loot's Avatar
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    “Very bad luck.”



    As if I’ve ever had it any better.

    The longer he stared at the doll, the less natural and more ominous the whole thing looked. It was as if the construct was possessed by some spirit – a PokéSoul of its own, perhaps? - which gave it “life”; however, it was as if whatever controlled the doll wasn’t too sure how people behaved, resulting in an imperfect emulation of human mannerisms that was unsettling to say the least…

    The tent behind the strange fortune-teller seemed to react to his and the others’ presence, seemingly expanding as the number of onlookers grew. None of this bode well; Ulrik had never been fond of the supernatural. It’d been hard enough coming to terms with the fact that his body was no longer his own, and now he was confronted with a ghostly circus in the middle of nowhere, a living doll that could read the future and, worst of all, he wasn’t even the only one caught in this eerie web of events.

    As it turned out, the attraction had lured more people than just himself. In fact it was the first time in a long while that Ulrik found himself surrounded by other humans, and it was leaving him deeply uncomfortable; the last time he’d been with other people, he wound up murdering one of them during one of Luxray’s overwhelming killing urges; that was the final time he ever set foot in an underground settlement, and the reason for his perpetual roaming of EarthWorld’s surface, as far away from other people as possible.
    But now, Luxray was seemingly dormant, and furthermore, Ulrik was clearly the oldest of the group. The teller goaded all of them, red eyes glimmering with promise and wonder, and that did not sit well with the former boxer. Were he alone in the endeavour, things would be different; as it stood, he felt a sort of fatherly obligation to protect the youngsters even if he knew nothing about them.

    Who the hell am I to judge? I can’t even talk with my inner demon. For all I know, these kids might have stronger, friendly Souls of their own… Wouldn’t be the first time I let myself be driven by this stupid Messiah Complex and made a fool of myself. Still…

    Immediately behind him was a little girl, standing in line like she was no doubt taught how to do by parents that were nowhere in sight. He wondered if she could sense the same danger he did emanating from the mysterious structure, or if she was still too innocent to notice something was amiss. She should be about the same age as his son Rorik would be if he was still…

    … if he was still alive. If I’d kept him safe like I always promised I would.

    Maybe they didn’t need saving; maybe he should just follow his instinct and get the hell away from that place as fast as possible. But there was no turning back now, not when younger, better people than him could incur in harm if he didn’t do anything.
    Maybe he was just being paranoid, maybe this really was just an over-produced fortune-telling session with no strings attached… but really, when had life ever been that simple? After the Loveland Meteor hit, humans had learned to expect the worst out of The Wild, and all of this reeked of trouble. If only for the sake of these kids, maybe he should lead by example – and if any harm came to him, well, it’s not like he had anybody waiting for him at home anyway.

    “H-hey. My name’s Ulrik,” he said, addressing Cam. “Who are you? Listen, I know you wanna have a go, but… free admission sounds a bit fishy, you know? Maybe you shouldn’t walk in there, let alone all by yourself.”

    He wasn’t even sure if he was coming across as patronizing, or just plain silly, addressing the girl like that. But as long as it prevented her from merrily hopping over to the tent, he’d risk sounding like an idiot. And then there was the offer of palm-reading, extended not just to him but also to the remaining two who’d also approached the doll… Ulrik knew he couldn’t help everybody all the time, but it was as much of an overpowering impulse as Luxray’s hunger; he’d volunteer for a reading before anyone else fell into a potential trap.

    “Doubt my luck’s gonna change now, of all times,” he said while glaring straight at the phantasmal doll. “But why not? Maybe a look at my hand will change your mind about that fate of mine.”

    Inside, he was shaking, but he didn’t want to alarm the others. If there was ever something that could be labelled as “stupid” from ten miles away, it was blindly sticking a hand into a hole in hopes that nothing bad happened. And yet, there he was, playing hero in front of a crowd that definitely hadn’t come to see him perform.

    Well…. Here goes nothing!


    -----

    Post #2
    Word count: 845

  11. #9
    Bubblebeam
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    OOC: Question! While post order isn't rigid, are we all still posting in 'rounds' ? As in, only post once between the leaders posts? Its just that, well, my character does a lot of chatting and its goin' to be a very difficult to actually chat to other characters if they can only react once per 'round' of posts...
    Oh! And another question, is it customary to quote/tag players if you interact with their character?



    Another person, closer to Elliott in age, silently joined the line behind him.
    Their outfits were widely different. While Elliott seemed like a bedraggled college dropout, this guy looked like an adventurer.
    "Hey!" He gave them a friendly wave, somewhat creeped out that nobody had acknowledged him so far. Had everyone been put under a spell? He wasn't sure.
    "Wooh! Bit of a breeze blowing through that tent, aye? I guess they've really pegged it down well--" He commented when the circus seemed to exhale. He was trying to convince himself this was normal, so that he wouldn't stress out.
    The doll was a little creepy, but everything about circuses was, right? He shivered a little, and muttered "Definitely uncanny valley." under his breath- confirming it, since nobody else had. It seemed mostly interested in the first two in the queue.
    "Oooh, look, the entrances are hidden, and dark!" He pointed to the slits in the fabric, nudging Kieran as Ulrik seemed to turn and interact with the kid. "Do you think its a haunted circus? WooooOOOooo~" He made a dumb ghost flail, then turned back to the doll.
    It was addressing them!
    And Ulrik was putting his hand into its mysterious palm-reading area!
    "Woah- hey- I wouldn't do that unless I knew it was safe- maybe you should put a stick in there or something first?" He tried to advise, to no avail. It was already done, really. If it was harmless, he didn't mind seeming like a coward, and he'd probably do it next just to laugh it off. "And if it chops off his hand or gives him a free unwanted tattoo I'll be too freaked out to say I told you so"

    Post 2, Words 287

  12. #10
    Dekrueger's Avatar
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    Post #2, Kieran

    There was a certain irony involved with the most animated thing in the clearing being the mechanical teller of the ticket booth. Everyone else appeared to be scared absolutely stiff… with a couple exceptions of course. Without anyone else around to bolster his confidence Kieran would most assuredly be shaking like a leaf in the wind at the spectacle. For now however he was more than content to take this crazy circus at face value. It was suspicious, implausible and all around off-putting, but as far as the young man knew this was all part of the charm. It wasn’t unjustifiable though, and what did he know anyway? He’d spent nearly ten years of his life in a hole. Maybe circuses only arrived to cities and fairgrounds in the past, but after the meteor maybe they could only safely be erected off the beaten path. If that was the case, props to the troupe for picking a location such as this. It really brought out the eeriness of the whole scene.


    Bad luck, he could have sworn he heard the teller announce. It may not have been meant for him, but the ill omen rattled him nonetheless. He could come up with three possibilities. The fortune was either a genuine prediction, random luck of the draw or set up with the express purpose of startling the recipient- and anyone who happened to hear. In the case of the latter, they definitely had hit their mark, and they were certainly helping build up the suspense and sinister vibe about this place. Another voice plucked Kieran from his thoughts however; a voice directed toward him. Though, it didn’t sound like it had come from the machine. His expression softening from one of thought, he turned to the owner of the voice and gave a wave back.“Hey.” He greeted, calling back to the other. This was perhaps the first positive vibe he’d gotten from this place, as simple as an earnest hello was. “Here to see the circus too?” He asked. It didn’t take a genius to determine that the green haired youth was looking for conversation. Given the circumstances he was particularly happy to oblige. As the other male continued to speak, Kieran failed to fight off another shiver. Once more his hair wrapped into quills and stood on end for but a moment before returning to normal. It wasn’t on account of any changes in the environment, nor anything that anyone has said. Instead, it from the cold wind swept through the clearing. Out of all the things he’d grown resilient to with his transformation, extreme temperatures seemed to get to him even more so than before. The fact that he was wet from the swamp didn’t help with the matter of the chill either.
    Already a little bit on edge, Kieran jumped in surprise as he felt the nudge from the other. It took more willpower than he cared to admit not to prick the excitable Elliot. “Maybe they’ve got the lights off to make a big entrance.” He suggested, rationalizing why the tent might be dark inside. “And haunted or not, that’s definitely the motif they’re going for.” He pointed out, though by now this was likely to no one’s surprise. Watching Elliot go through his motions and make his idle chatter, Kieran did something he didn’t expect to given the circumstances; he laughed. It was warm and good natured, and with the uneasy atmosphere about the place above all else it felt good. “My heart’s already pumping, and I’m looking forward to a thrill.” He admitted, before turning his attention back to the kiosk, just in time to be addressed by the teller.

    The machine was rather acutely aware of its surroundings. No doubt controlled by some man behind the curtain somewhere in the big top. Or maybe not. With all of the changes that the world had undergone since Pokemon showed up, it could be magic for all he knew. Regardless, whatever the reason, the person behind this was a master puppeteer. “No need to get the guy all worked up!” Kieran reprimanded as his conversational partner spoke up, clearly rather alarmed by the spectacle. Turns out his own two cents would be inconsequential, as the first in the line had already gone and presented his hand to the machine. And soon it would be his turn. In fact the teller was already asking for his preference on fortune reading. At the offer, his eyes lit up not unlike the doll’s. “Cards? As in like… tarot?” He asked as though to clear it up. Not even within the tent and this was already an experience. An unsettling experience, but so far and exciting one. The dull rumble of Argent growling persisted in his ears, advising the young man against being over eager, but it was too late to deter him now. He’d gone and developed a curiosity, perhaps a morbid one at that. I’ve never seen it done like that before.” He commented, to justify his choice. To be honest, he’d never seen a fortune being read before at all. “When it comes to my turn, I’ll have my fortune read with cards, please.” He replied, minding his manners on instinct.

    Posted: 4/29/17
    Word Count: 875


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