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Rebellious Suns: Sara, Kieran

Discussion in 'General Role Play' started by Yoshimitsu, Aug 20, 2011.

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  1. Yoshimitsu

    Former Moderator


    Elohim's fourth team of warriors are at the Frozen North, stood in the mighty glaciers that give the land its name. The snowfall has eased up temporarily, but the air is so cold it threatens to freeze them solid. They can see the ice platforms that have broken off from the mainland, the smooth surfaces that would surely make for good battlegrounds if they were forced to fight. The wind, when it blows, is frozen and bites at any exposed skin.
  2. Sem

    Sem The Last of the Snowmen
    Former Administrator

    OOC: Kieran's debut~ Not Murkrow Kieran btw >=o

    A young boy stood at the furthest point of the Frozen North, which pointed east towards Crescent Isle. Crescent Isle seemed like a totally different world compared to the frozen wasteland, like polar opposites facing each other, ready to battle. The land itself seemed as hostile as the handful of people that had been thrown there, each one ripped from their own world and time and made to fight for someone's pleasure.

    Most of the people were seasoned warriors, or so it seemed. Kieran wasn't a warrior, and the fact that he was whisked away from his life and into this game only added to his list of woes. The boy seemed like he couldn't be older than ten, though he was older, but only by a few years. He would never look older than ten, though, and nothing could change that.

    The boy's pale skin seemed even paler in the ruthless cold. His black hair was long enough to be ruffled by the cutting winds. He was only clothed in a purple t-shirt, only the collar of which was visible from under a black, over-sized hoodie sweatshirt that ended just bellow the boy's pelvis. On his lower-half were a pair of grey skinny jeans and a pair of purple sneakers that had no place being used in the tundra. Thankfully the boys clothes had certain enchantments against wear and tear, thanks to an acquaintance back home, but they still offered little protection against the cold. The boy's inhuman body offered him a bit more tolerance for cold than a normal person, but in such sub-zero temperatures it hardly mattered.

    His hood was up and in his ears were a pair of earbuds that led to an MP3 player in the boy's jeans. He couldn't tell you what song he was listening to - he was too depressed to care. It was something upbeat, probably one of the latest club hits from back home. Music was one thing that did make Kieran happy, music and Katherine, the woman who had taken him in when no one else would. The very act of taking him away from her was enough to drive him to find a way back home, but since coming here it seemed as if he'd been even more depressed than he normally was. It took all his determination to return home in order to not succumb to his despair and give up. The only reason he was in the north was in search of some of the Moon Order's members. As far as he knew, winning whatever sick war they were in was the key to getting home, back to his life and back to Katherine.

    Kieran removed a hand from the sweatshirt's big pocket, slid it out of the long sleeve, and shook some ice out of his hair - leftover from when he had frozen to death about fifteen minutes prior. He would die again within the next half-hour, but it was all right - he would come back like he always did.

    The boy's unnatural eyes scanned the frozen chunks of ice out in the water, but saw no one. His eyes were a dark, rich purple, almost like amethyst, but the pupils were thin slits, almost vampiric. Normally he had contacts to obscure his frightening eyes, but in this world he didn't bother. Perhaps they could serve to his advantage by intimidating a possible opponent. A possible opponent which would obviously not be found in the Frozen North. With a deep sigh Kieran turned around, making his way back towards the warmth of the mainland.

    In order to avoid dying three or four times in the time it would take for him to go back on foot Kieran decided to try a faster way. From the boy's back burst a black sort of energy. Anyone would assume that it was darkness and that the boy was an umbrakinetic. But he wasn't. A look at his eyes and one would think that maybe it was unholy energy or magic, but that also wasn't the case. It was sorrow. Sorrow manifested into something tangible.

    The energy formed into a pair of massive black wings, allowing the boy the take flight towards the mainland.
    #2 Sem, Aug 21, 2011
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 19, 2013
  3. Yoshimitsu

    Former Moderator


    Her voice was quiet, almost completely snatched away by the wind. It was the voice of the distraught, the voice a person could only use when they had their most treasured thing stolen away from them. The chill wind nearly stole the word away, the name, but even it couldn't hide the pain the voice showed. The voice that belonged to a girl who never showed emotion. The girl who said very little and had her friend do all the talking for her.

    "Luna... Where are you..?"

    She had an age in her eyes that didn't look right on a face so young. Her pale complexion that suited her long, reddish-brown hair very well. The hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, just behind her neck. A pair of sunglasses, though one lens was missing and they had no visible means of staying on her face. A scarf covered the bottom half of her face, with a white shirt and waistcoat on her upper body, underneath a black jacket. Black jeans and boots completed her outfit.

    She stood in the icy landscape, not truly seeing it before her. Her mind was engulfed with concern for her friend and the details of the mission. The forces of Sem, the Moon's Order. She could see each member in her head, just a brief flash as they cycled through her mind. She stopped on one, clinging to the image. The silver hair, the metal band, the neutral expression. It was vivid. She had seen that face so many times before.

    General Sylvia.

    So she was one of Sem's cronies. That woman would finally pay for what she had done. The general who had destroyed Sara's life would finally be forced to stand for her crimes. Sylvia would finally be brought to justice, so Sara could get her best friend back.

    Something caught Sara's eye. On the horizon, in the sky. A black dot. As it got nearer, Sara realised that it wasn't wildlife. She pulled a handgun out from under her jacket, unclipping ammo from her belt at the same time. She slid the ammo into the gun with a satisfying click, checking the two vertical barrels just in case.

    "Who are you..." She muttered to herself, as the figure got closer.

    Whoever it was, they had wings. Not normal wings either. They were made out of some swirling black substance. She couldn't make out the person's details, nothing on their body obvious aside from their wings. Without warning, she pointed her gun at the sky and started firing.
  4. Sem

    Sem The Last of the Snowmen
    Former Administrator

    "Wha...?" was all Kieran could manage to get out as suddenly there was a hail of bullets coming his way. He tried to maneuver out of the line of fire, but one of the round ripped through his left wing, breaking it and causing the boy to spiral dangerously to the ground.

    Gritting his teeth, the boy concentrated on reforming the wing and was able to catch himself about twenty meters above the ground. He looked around the tundra, finally spotting a single figure facing him, gun in hand. Then a bullet tore through his shoulder, another through his lower abdomen, and then finally one through his heart.

    The wings fizzled out as Kieran hit the ground with an unpleasant sound. He lay there motionless, purple eyes open, for several moments, certainly enough time for the person who had shot them to make their way over to him. Then he suddenly inhaled, his back arched. The bullet wounds began to heal themselves, forcing the bullets back out as they did so. Any broken bones from the fall also began to mend and within moments Kieran was back on his feet.

    He looked at his killer, a young woman. He'd never seen her before. If she was part of the Moon's Order then Kieran would have no choice but to try to bring her down. "Which side of the war are you on?" he asked her, brushing snow off of his clothes as the rips and tears in them also began to fix themselves.
    #4 Sem, Aug 29, 2011
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 19, 2013
  5. Yoshimitsu

    Former Moderator

    "What are you?"

    Sara had watched. She had seen every moment. The bullets tore apart one of the boy's wings, sending him into a spiralling nosedive. She had cause him at least twice in the chest with her shots. In the few moments of his inactivity she approached him, only to have him gasping for air seconds later. It wasn't possible. Nobody recovered from shots like that, and definitely didn't recover that quickly. She kept her gun trained on the boy, aimed right between his eyes.

    The last time Sara had seen something like this, it had been an odd incident. She and Luna had come across a crypt, entirely by accident. The foul stench of death had clung to their nostrils, making it almost unbearable. The promise of treasure at the end had kept them going, but the moving coffins had put a sudden halt to their exploration. No matter how many bullets she had unloaded into the foul abominations that had risen, nothing had kept them down.

    If this boy was undead, a shot to the brain would hopefully keep him down.
  6. Sem

    Sem The Last of the Snowmen
    Former Administrator

    "What are you?"

    Kieran couldn't count all the times he'd heard that question asked of him. She had ignored his question entirely, and had her gun fixed on him, on his head even if he was guessing right.

    "That won't do it either," Kieran told her as he slowly raised his hand in the form of a gun to his temple. "I've tried, other people tried... yeah, anyway..." he muttered, his morbidity had gotten the better of him. He may be depressed and he may be a bit morbid in thought, but he didn't like that to shape people's first impressions of him. Of course, it didn't really matter this time since his first impression on this woman was probably something similar to "monster".

    The boy looked at her, seeing the expression in her eyes, eyes that didn't see him as human. Of course, she was right. He wasn't human anymore.

    "I'm not like a zombie or anything," he said, lowering his hand that had still been raised to his head. "I'm more like a resurrected person, which I promise you is totally different." He tried to think of an example. "Like, a vampire!" Which was partly true, he was part vampire in a strange way, hence his purple, slitted, pupils. Except the example didn't work because vampires were generally considered undead. He wasn't doing a good job convincing her. "Like, a vampire, only I actually need to breathe, and my heart beats, so I'm pretty much a living vampire, only much more indestructible..."

    Did that do it? Oh well, he couldn't say he didn't try his best. He looked up at the older girl. "Are you still gonna to shoot me or will you answer my question? I don't like fighting but I will if I have to..."
  7. Yoshimitsu

    Former Moderator

    "An invulnerable vampire..."

    Sara took a quick check of her ammo clip, just to make sure she had enough bullets left. In a slick movement, she flipped a tiny level on the side of her gun. Each of the barrells started glowing a bright white, sparks jumping from the discharge.

    "I'm with the Rebellious Suns. Do I need to destroy your body to make you die?"
  8. Sem

    Sem The Last of the Snowmen
    Former Administrator

    Kieran immediately relaxed upom finding out that she was on the same side he was. "That's good, I am too," he told her. Of course, she may not trust him. Technically he didn't have to trust her either but it was easier to take her word for it. What was the worse she could do? Kill him again? Those glowing barrels did look intimidating, but the boy had no doubt that he would survive whatever they did to him.

    "I'm Kieran," he introduced, extending his hand.
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