Exarius was walking in a dark forest he came upon a lake the moon was high on the horizon and reflecting at upon the glassy motionless facet of the water, this had looked like a wonderful place to take a break from the days events. He sat down on a fallen log and lit a cigarette, he was contemplating things, why he was here, where his old friends had gone and why they had gone without even letting him know why. He took a drag, he decided that he should make a few new friends. He stood up and began waking the perimiter of the lake, he saw a few people sitting down around a fire talking laughing and joking around. They all had weapons of some sort, he decided to approach the bunch.
(sorry this is so awful, I am new at starting these)
(OoC: I'll be using Caragon for this - link in my sig. This is also my first ever RP experience outside the Dome o_o)
BiC: Caragon sat by himself, a little away from the rest of the crowd. He was not sure how he had gotten there, or how he had ended up with these strangers, especially considering their loud and cheerful nature. His trusty halberd lay beside him, and the reflection of the fire danced over the cold, grey steel. It had been weeks since he had used it for anything at all, though he always kept sharp with his training. He wanted to be prepared always.
Caragon sighed as he let a hand run through his hair. What he was doing, where he was going, what did it matter now? He had no real goal at all, except to "discover himself". Now that he reflected on it, there among the rest of the crowd, he found it a little silly to think about. He was Caragon Wildheart, born in an unknown village, and previously imprisoned for murder. What fun. His past was something he never thought of, except in these small depressive moments where he had to remind himself why he was not at home, but here.
A casual glance across the landscape had him notice a newcomer. With his dark appearance, coming out from among the trees, Caragon had almost managed to miss him. His clothing and overall behaviour was in deep contrast to the rest of the people that sat around the fire, something that made Caragon wonder why he would seek their company in the first place.
Well... maybe there was more than what met the eye.
OoC: Jaiden is the purple link in my sig. This'll be rushed, 'cause I only have seven minutes from this note before school.
BiC: The night was relaxing to the small band of people around him, the fire crackling in the limits of his magic barrier. Jaiden might have been the youngest in this group at ten, but that didn't mean he was the most immature. He laughed and joked with the warriors and mages around him, making remarks as they did to each other about their clothes and abilities.
Though he had raptor vision, the slight movement in the dense forest across the small lake had not registered in his mind. Hm, who could that be...? I'll let him near, just to be safe... As he watched the man approach, Jaiden kept a small shield of invisible energy around the group, that way only they could exit and enter...
OoC: Oh! It's my first time too! Wow! In a long time, anyway... You'll be subject to Lamar tonight, friends.
BiC: The air was close that night in the shady forest. Lamar tiredly paced through the trees and over the damp ferns, barely half-aware of his surroundings. He'd forgotten why he was here, despite being tendered several possible explanations by a bevy of personalities. An idealist mind had probably seized control and taken flight to a primitive world to stir something up in the otherwise bland and direction-less life that was being trapped in Lamar's brain. By a vast majority, the collective had decided to follow up on this pipe-dream and find adventure on this world.
The rogue idealist had chosen a good place for it, it seemed. Using his microbot armada to infrared sweep the wood, Lamar was aware of a gathering of sorts near a lake, not too far away. As he silently drew closer to the group of what looked like humans, his microbots picked out more details. There were at least a dozen men around a fire, many of them armed. They looked quite jovial - not a threat. However, there was a strange energy emanating from several of the men, the kind displayed by magical folk. Lamar thought it best to keep his distance, at least for the time being. He leaned against an oak and let out a sigh of weariness.
He almost cried out in shock when he sensed the barrier go up. Not even his collective thought had anticipated the group to display that level of energistic control. They decided on a suitable expression to reflect their surprise. Too bad no-one could see it. Lamar was sure they couldn't see him, so he ordered his microbots to search the surrounding area again for any reason for the energy barrier. They found a dark figure approaching the group from the far side, obviously unaware of the shield. His mind readings indicated he was a man of purpose, with high brain activity and an athlete's physique. Lamar dearly wanted to learn more about the stranger, but at that moment his microbots ran out of energy and fell to the ground, dead. He showed a frown of annoyance, but he could have new ones built within ten minutes. He strained his eyes past the group to watch what could be an entertaining event.
The cool air was as silk against the exposed crème skin of the Coquette, laying its gentle kisses across her bare shoulders, and running its long fingers through her ravishing blonde and lilac locks. It carried with it the minimal trails of smoke that lingered in the air, born from the fire that crackled with ease in front of her and gave a glint to the smooth metal of the flask she held in her left hand. She took a dainty sip from it before passing to the person next to her, not even acknowledging the existence of the other with eye contact, keeping her senses open, and gaze forward.
However, keeping her senses open was somewhat of a harder task than usual. This was her first journey from the confines of her home since the death of Zorlo, and the blood bath that had occurred in the heavenly realm. The phantoms of what had occurred still haunted her, the broken sobs of Selene echoing within the confines of her psyche and the feeling of the man’s very presence leaving the plane replaying itself over and over again. She was no longer bound to the man, but during the time that she had been oathed to join him in his brotherhood, she had grown to admire him somewhat, and to see such a valiant warrior vanquished so, was truly a discerning experience.
Vana lifted her head from its previously lowered position, her feline oculars widening as they grew accustomed to the darkness the took up the space around the other figures who her gaze now meandered across, finding them all rather lacking in qualities she deemed worthy of her time, or other things that drew her attention, one of them even being a mere boy with a steely look in his eyes. Inside, Vana scoffed at the idea of having to share the same space as those gathered, wonder as to what purpose the Kitra had sent her to this place as they often did, leaving her with little information.
The time passed slowly as she sat, the fan she had brought with her resting across her lap, the blue sheen of the mythril contrasting with the soft red of her dress. When the barrier surrounded them, the woman rose wearily to her feet, opening the weapon with a flourish of her hand, the scraping of metal against metal passing smoothly against each other breaking the momentary lull created by the manifestation of the barrier.
“Whomever summoned this box, I would suggest lowering it. Enclosed spaces have been known to entice blood thirst in those so used to freedom of movement as I am,” she coolly stated, caring no longer for the pleasantries she had engaged in before, tiring of the company of those jovially gathered without seeming meaning.
If someone was going to approach, then let them. She was tired of waiting.
As Exarius had approached the bunch around the fire, he had noted how strangly dressed that they were, they seemed to have came here from all around, they all looked different, different weapons, hair, clothing, armor. Some had the hardend look of warriors and others had childish faces that looked like they had never killed or seen death, Exarius pitied them, because he knew that at some point they would have to see it, have to take someones life to save their own. That youthfull innocence would not last.
Exarius then walked up to one of them and said hello and introduced himself.
Caragon witnessed as the newcomer went over to introduce himself to one of the others, but felt no further curiosity as he leaned back in the grass a little, scratching his side lazily. How long had it been since he had gotten some sleep? Two days? Three days? It was amazing how careless he had become with himself lately, especially when he knew better than most people how important it was to take care of one self. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with his palm, not being able to supress a yawn either.
Not wishing to fall asleep where he sat, he grabbed his halberd, planted it in the ground and used it to balance himself as he rose to his feet. His eyes scanned his surroundings once more since he was now standing, and a whole new perspective was revealed to him. Maybe no-one would notice if he just walked away. Then again, even if someone did, why would it matter?
Standing locked in place, Caragon pondered upon his next course of action.
The young man stood his ground, not speaking a word to the newcomer he had sensed earlier. The look in his eyes silently demanded to the man that stood before him to tell him of his objective. Placing the shields down, the purple-haired youth listened as he began to speak to him, he himself making small conversation.
"So, may I ask what you came to our little group for, sir?" His purple eyes kept their battle hardened look to them, Bo staff in his right hand. Twirling it a couple of times, Jaiden balanced himself on the pole, making sure he was level with the man he was speaking to. "Oh, and I'm Jaiden by the way."
As the man approached, Vana shifted her body toward him, the satin of her dress sliding across her shoulders before she tied the strap that ran across it tighter with a simple motion, her deft fingers returning to her side afterward. Her face was lax, calm, and expectant in a way, bowed primrose lips slightly ajar, allowing the near silent drawing of breath occur, evaporating the moisture that resided upon the inside of them so that she had to every so often rewet them.
Despite what she had expected, there was nothing more than an introduction.
“My name matters not,” she spat coldly, eyes flitting from face to face. “Why is it that we are here. What is the purpose of this. I came not to make pleasantries nor to make friends.”
She stalked forward to the new arrival, her amethyst oculars flashing dangerously with the movement and her feet not making a sound as they touched the loam. The firelight cast peculiar shadows upon her form as she moved away from it, its caress slipping from one place to another, taking refuge in the ruffled slit of her skirt for a while before slithering upward to engulf her plunging neckline, darkening the brilliant red to crimson and the alabaster of her skin to slate. It hung for a mere moment to her loose fingers as she brought her free hand up, the long, graceful digits resting in the air only a few centimeters from the man’s face.
“What is it that you require, good sir?” she questioned emotionlessly, mirroring what the youth with the staff had said but a moment before, a green tipped needle now held visibly in the fingers so close to his face.