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Ask to Join Crimson City (Fantasy/Superhero RP)

Discussion in 'General Role Play' started by Gpig5, Mar 23, 2019.

  1. The sign ups/discussion thread: https://pokecharms.com/threads/crimson-city-fantasy-superhero-rp.20731/#post-736211

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    Location: Brickton Complex - The Cactus' Prick

    Inside of a pub called "The Cactus' Prick" a local pub that is quite grimy but is popular with the locals. "Another Electric Ale please," Ichiro Blue said to the bartender. "You are gonna pay for your tab right?" The Bartender asked. Ichiro scoffed "sure,". He felt his head get heavy and banged it on the bar. "Ah, piss it," Ichiro exclaimed. "You're a bloody mess. You know that?" The Bartender said. "Cheers Karen. Hey how's your divorce going? Still as messy as before?" Ichiro snapped back. Karen squinted at Ichiro as she handed Ichiro the drink and walked away. "Prick," She said under her breath as she served a different customer. Ichiro took a gulp of the ale before glancing around the pub and seeing all the misfits in the pub and looked at the cheap tele that was mounted on the wall showing the news. "An update on the recent terrorist attacks in the industrial District that seemed to have a 3 people injured but no fatal injuries and no deaths." The news presenter explained. Ichiro raised his eyebrows as he took another swig of his ale. He looked at the blue markings on his hand and he contemplated the possible reason why he has them and maybe he should do something like that "terrorist" seem to be...NAH!! Ichiro downs the rest of his drink.

    Location: Burgundy Complex

    Fraser walks down one of the main streets of Burgundy and is taking a back with the amount of people just walking around and how serious they look and that everyone's in suits, in their own little world. Fraser kept approaching people asking for help but he kept getting ignored. "No wonder I was an assassin for so long," Fraser said to himself. He glanced down and realised that his holstered tomahawks were showing, that might have been a factor as to why he was getting ignored. He covered them with his parka jacket and continued down the street continuing his search for the local weapons smith.
     
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  2. Erica - Burgundy Complex

    Erica sat on a rooftop, with the fast food meal she had obtained thanks to pay from the odd jobs she COULD get. She easily spotted a guy in a parka. He seemed to be asking about something, but was getting ignored. She put the bag of food in her mouth, then made her way down the building. Once on the ground, she grabbed the bag out of her mouth with one of her hands. She then started to walk, intent on reaching the man. Once she finally got to him, she tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me sir," Erica said. "can I help you with something?"
     
  3. Rex

    Rex Resident Furry

    Industrial Complex - Night

    This had been a steelworks. Specifically, an integrated steelworks, where all the steps in the long and dirty process of converting raw iron into various casting products, from which they'd be shipped off to manufacturers to be further made into finished goods. This information was only important in the fact that it meant the building had its own furnaces: blast furnaces to melt the iron, coke ovens to cook distill the coal, the works. When it stood, the building had been studded with smokestacks, each spitting their own toxic mixture into the air. It had made a suitable first target, for both ideological and practical reasons.

    He was standing now in the ruins, surrounded by twisted metal half melted from the heat, baked brick that had once made up the buildings walls, and ash. Using the book he held in his hand, he had taunted the spirits of elemental fire that resided in the furnaces. He'd poked and prodded at them, twisted them into a rage. Already agitated from another day of metallurgy, it didn't take much to spark them into a blaze that had quickly become a raging inferno. Then, calling upon the spirits of the wind - his own and others he could summon through the book - he'd coaxed and fed the fire, whipping up a firestorm. The blaze reached up, rather than out, and was well contained. But he had lost control.

    The problem started when the air started to hook and twist around. Once he had gotten it going, the firestorm was naturally able to feed itself, as the cool night air rushed into fill space left by the hot air of the fire as it rose into the sky. The spirits ran wild, driving the flame upwards. He'd fled when the first fire whirl began. The fire whirls, as there had been a few before the fire department was able to calm the blaze, had sucked in loose debris, and in the process caused a few injuries. He felt bad about that, but he consoled himself with the fact that he'd contained the fire's footprint expertly, and no one had died or suffered anything approaching a fatal wound.

    He'd waited a few nights since then. Last night, he'd destroyed two, much smaller, factory complexes on the other side of the industrial district to throw any possible pursuers off his trail - this time by inducing the spirits of the earth to move, causing the buildings to collapse into pits of rubble. They were already calling his actions terrorist attacks, that was capitalism for you. The fat cat industrialists will slowly poison the very earth and air, killing real human beings slowly, but if you knock over their buildings with minimal injury and no loss of life, they'll pay off the politicians to treat you as the serious threat.

    He held the book up, flipping it open to the page he needed. From the outside, the tome looked unremarkable except for its obvious age. It was leather bound, with blank covers, and the pages were yellowed but not yet brittle. One of the benefits of having a spirit of his own was that he didn't need to draw out the complex rituals and invocations that he had had to when he was just another normal human being. Now, he just needed the book, the diagrams of summoning circles and written copies of invocation speeches were enough, so long as he had it. Through the book, he called out to nature, and nature responded.

    Like a desert bloom after a rainfall, the ground around him erupted with life. Wildflowers shot up, deep grasses and twisting vines grew along the ruins. A great tree grew in the twisted remains of one of the blast furnaces, its leafy branches and mighty trunk replacing what had been a towering chimney just nights ago. In minutes, the lot went from an industrial wreckage, to looking like an old regrown ruin, and then as if there had never been a building here at all. The weight of the plant life brought down what the fire hadn't. Fresh dirt covered the rest in gently rolling terrain.

    This had been a steelworks. Now it was a park. Liam closed the book and sighed. That would be his one major action for tonight, summoning was tiring business. He stooped over, carefully putting the book into a non-distinct duffel bag, which he then slung over his shoulder. Time to get out of here, before anyone noticed the change of scenery. Stepping from the grass back onto the road, his tail flicking behind him with the pride of his accomplishment, he began the walk towards Brickton, towards home.
     
    Ariados twice likes this.

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