- This topic has 6,686 replies, 33 voices, and was last updated 1 hour, 24 minutes ago by
.
-
Posts
-
Okay… he’s in the shop next to the dancing building, literally next door. Just so you girls know. Cal saw it in his POV before coming in for practice. Not that anyone knows 😅
Calvin
“Spot on.” Calvin standing nearby snapped his fingers, and strode over to join the two girls and interrogate the nervous boy. “What’s your name? What were you guys talking about in the shop? And did he say anything about where he is now?”
Marcel
Marcel had no idea where he was.
He rolled over, and immediately wheezed with pain. His head felt as if it were smashed in with an anvil. It didn’t hurt as much as after the fight yesterday, but the pounding in his ears felt as if his brain was a mass of green slime, about to jiggle out. His stomach was also incredibly sore.
Sure, the healing jewel had worked, but everything was still sensitive from… mild exercise the other day.
He closed his eyes, and listened.
A tinging sound, like a creaky ceiling fan. And a strangely murmur, like wind fluttering through clouds and empty tunnels. The sound of magic. It grew, until it rang in his ears, and seemed to even be the source of his headache.
He reached up to brush away a pink curl, and froze.
Something cold and metallic clamped against his forehead. Around his head in a band, so tight, his scalp burned from the pinch.
Last thing he could remember… he was angry at himself. Frustrated about something… someone sitting across from him at a table. And then he was squinting at his golden cloud, blinking away the anger. And something rammed into him. It felt like a lot of time had passed since then, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Shh…” a voice whispered.
Marcel sat up. “Who’s there?”
His vision was fuzzy. It was… some kind of room? He could barely see anything, except a bright green blur to one side, and a dark form hunched on the other.
“I’d rather not be kidnapped in a weird mysterious way, thank you very much.” Marcel clutched at the band, trying to pull it off. “Could someone please take this thing off me? It smells weird.”
He stood up, tried to outstretch his wings, then fell onto his backside with a thump.
His wings were gone.
Don’t panic. Stay calm. And… cool.
His eyes cleared for a second, just enough to see what the dark form was. It was a girl. Her body was ink black, and she wore a black cap shaped with a bird’s beak and empty sockets. Like one of those ancient doctors Calvin was so fascinated with.
She watched him intently.
“Can you… let me go?” Marcel asked, as his vision blurred again. He held out a hand.
“NO!” She shrieked and tackled him like an animal, knocking him to the carpeted floor. When he stayed there, she was satisfied, and retreated into a dark blob again.
Marcel caught his breath. He curled up into a ball, pulled his hood on, and waited.
He would be an obedient captive. For now.
“Everything is a mountain”
Nooo Marcel the poor boy! He needs to see someone for that head injury
(But also yay cuz I might finally have an excuse to light Felicity’s short fuse)
“Nothing says autumn like slurpin’ apples.” -my uncle
You can rp first if you want
Happy unbirthday every one!
"EVERYTHING IS AWESOME..."For some reason, I was in Chase’s mind when I was reading your rp about Marcel, and Chase got really angry and even shifted into a snake. Idk what happened exactly, but all of a sudden, I could feel Chase get very protective.
Anyways…
Chase Duke
“I-I’m Chase. W-we were talking about… Personal things. I-I said something that offended him, and he stormed out. I-I couldn’t find out where he went. What’s the matter? Why are you asking about Marcel?”
"You need French Toast."
Aw, yes, he needs to recognize that concussions even exist.
Oh, Felicity has a short fuse? XD
That’s hilarious, because Mars (Marcel’s nickname btw) would see Chase as the one to protect in any situation, even if Mars was the one in trouble XD
Calvin
“He’s missing.” Calvin kept his voice level. “But there’s no need to blame yourself, if you didn’t do anything. There’s never a good reason to hyperventilate over that kid.” He sighed tiredly at that.
“Everything is a mountain”
under Chase’s apparent timidness, is a hero. He’s very protective of those who try to help him, and are his friends. He literally threw himself between a car and a little kid who was adopted by Chase’s foster mom. He’s actually a pretty tough kid. He would be dead by now if he wasn’t. Part of it is being part Shyiad.
Chase Duke
Missing? Chase internally felt like slinking off to that brick alley again. He looked at Callie. He hurt his friends more than he thought he did. His hands fisted, and under his scars, the little muscle he had pressed against his skin.
“Have you checked the alleys?”
"You need French Toast."
Oki here we go *sets up all the dramatic drama*
Good for him 😝 I would be worried otherwise
Calvin
“No.” Calvin shot Babs a look. “I wouldn’t doubt he went into an alley. But if you’re implying he got attacked in one… no way. Not a chance. He spends eighty percent of his time in alleys at home, fly-jumping on the walls, and he absolutely loves them. It would be very hard to tackle him in one.”
Marcel
Marcel had been tackled in an alley.
He grumbled under his breath as he undid and redid his sneaker shoelaces.
One moment, he was hanging his cloud on the brick wall like a bird’s nest, ready to doze off the rest of the day. The next, a black comet shot down the wall. He must have fallen two, three stories, with only his wings as a parachute.
And now he was blind, wingless, and kind of hungry.
Being a captive was so. Not. Cool.
Suddenly his senses tingled. He let go of his sneaker toe.
Someone else, no, something else was in the room. He could hear it breathing. The magic in the room warped, then settled, like dust on furniture. And a strange weight seemed to be taking space across from him.
It was really, really, really heavy.
“…You breathe like an old man,” Marcel said innocently.
“And this is coming from an ancient godling,” a voice chuckled. “Ahhhhh… ahhhh.”
It didn’t sound like an individual voice; a thousand different tones and varieties, with one high-pitched, sweet voice at the forefront.
Marcel cocked his head, surprised. “And you sound like a little girl.”
The creature laughed. A jiggly, bloated laugh, and a long rattle of a sigh. “A demon must steal its body from somewhere.”
Marcel stopped smiling.
“You wear a golden band around your head, tasty little god. It is a magical creation, for containing wild things. Your abilities cannot help you here; not unless I speak the words.”
“What do you want from me?” Marcel waved his hand in the general direction of the ink girl; he still couldn’t see, and at this point he didn’t want to. “Why did you command her to bring me here? Not to be rude, but I had a date to dance practice today. They’ll be missing me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Shut up.” He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I brought you here to help you.”
“How?”
The demon considered his question, with a pause that felt like a smile. Its voice simplified, quieted, until it only sounded like a tiny girl. “You know what we demons do. We are not evil. I can promise you, all I want is to make your life better. That’s what I do best.”
“…I’m listening.”
“Everything is a mountain”
Why are my posts always so long? I know I always say this, but I feel guilty taking up so much space on the page.
“Everything is a mountain”
The post I deleted is still in your “mentions” is it too close to the truth too soon? I mean, I was going to say that before I read about Marcel, but I just don’t know if you think it’s okay.
"You need French Toast."
I know I always say this, but I feel guilty taking up so much space on the page.
Your writing is so cool, though. Make your rps as long as you want! It’s not like we’re going to run out of paper or something
“Nothing says autumn like slurpin’ apples.” -my uncle
Felicity
“Well, is there anywhere else to look? Other than that address you were sent.”
My brain is empty today so my rps are short
“Nothing says autumn like slurpin’ apples.” -my uncle
Chase Duke
Chase shivered at a picture of Narsa Jeptune jumping him from the shadows of one of his hideaways.
“Where else is dark in a city? Where else does evil thrive? Where else can someone be taken by surprise? I’ve almost died too many times in an alley not to be suspicious. He was angry, at me. He was upset, at me. He was so alike, yet so different, to me. I always go to an alley, he would too.” Chase’s stutter disappeared into a cloud of what? Anger? It was a tightness in his chest, and the same will that made him punch his own father back sometimes, even though it hurt Chase more. It was the same possessiveness that had taken hold when he met Sef, the same feeling he got when Jeptune was about to go hurt someone. And with it sometimes came a vision, of a land he had never seen, but stirred his heart. “Address? If he gave you an address, why are you questioning me?”
"You need French Toast."
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.