Search the Community: Showing results for tags 'open' in content posted in the last six months.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


THE STORY

  • HELP TICKETS / QUESTIONS / WANT ADS
  • ANNOUNCEMENTS/NEWS/EVENTS
  • AROUND THE WORLD
  • SECRETS / PLOTTING
  • OOC / NOSTALGIA / ADVERTS

COMPENDIUM

  • RULES/CHARACTER CREATION
  • PLOT & WORLD BASICS
  • SITE EVENTS/STORY ARCS
  • WORLD LOCATIONS
    • NEW YORK
    • LOS ANGELOS
    • RESONATED WORLD
  • RACES
  • FACTIONS
    • ARMA
    • BAKKHOS
    • FANYA NIASA - VEIL ALLIANCE
    • GOVERNMENT/LAW
    • ORDER OF FIRST LIGHT
    • PHAROS
    • REBELS/OUTLAWS
    • SHEUT NATION
    • VANGUARD OF HUMANITY
  • ALTERED CREATURES
  • WANT ADS & COSTARS
    • WANT ADS
    • COSTARS
    • TAKEN CANON WANT ADS
  • ROLE PLAY LIKE A CHAMP!

COMPENDIUM

  • CHARACTER BUILDING
    • SKILLS/ABILITIES
    • HOW TO WRITE BACKSTORIES
    • LANGUAGE TRANSLATORS
    • NAME GENERATORS
  • IMPROVE YOUR WRITING
    • BREAKING WRITERS BLOCK
    • BETTER GRAMMAR
    • BETTER WORDS
    • BETTER DESCRIPTIONS OF ALL KINDS OF THINGS

Calendars

  • RESONANCE EVENTS

SKILLS


HISTORY


APPROVED ABILITIES


APPROVED SKILLS


APPROVED HISTORY


IN-GAME HISTORY


Primary


All My Characters


Typist's Interests


Typist's Role Play History


Role Play Sample

Found 3 results

  1. Dika pushed past the heavy wooden swinging door and stepped into the well-lit bar; putting out a hand to decline the offer from coat-checker, he was fine keeping his with him. He looked around and thankfully saw an empty stool near the far end of the bar. He headed toward it as he unbuttoned his blazer. He got to the stool, sat on it with a sigh, and laid his blazer in his lap. He looked at everything on the shelf behind the bar as he undid his sleeves and rolled them up past his elbows and began to think about what he wanted to drink. He wondered for a while as the bartender motioned an upheld finger at him, indicating him to wait. Dika was in no hurry so he waved back at the bartender nonchalantly and continued to eye the bottles. He saw a familiar bottle on the shelf; recognizing it's yellow cap and too-big label. He smiled at the thought of a Venezuelan Cuba Libre; he hadn't had one in actual years. The bartender approached him and returned the grin. [npc]Something catch your eye I'm guessing?[/npc] Dika nodded and pointed to the bottle. [dika]"I'm sorry, I don't know the word. The little bottle, the bíter, yes right there. Do you know what I mean when I ask for a Cuba Libre Preperado?"[/dika] The bartender nodded, grabbed the bottle with one hand and a glass with the other and set them both on the bar in front of Dika. [npc]I know what a Cuba Libre is, we call it what it is, rum and coke. You want a fancier one, with bitters and gin.[/npc] The bartender emphasized the word as he tapped on the bottle in front of Dika, then turned to grab the gin. He pointed to the rum closest to them and asked [npc]Light or dark rum?[/npc] Dika shrugged, never really caring for the difference between a Preperado and a Preperado de Oro, so instead he offered [dika]"Whichever you recommend." The bartender nodded, grabbed the dark rum, and came back over to Dika. He began to ask about Dika as he started to mix the drink. [npc]What brings you in tonight bud?[/npc] Dika gave a smile at the question, eyeing the bartender hard. He was cute but young, grinning happily but clearly tired; and worst of all, he was charming but it was his job to be so. Dika decided to keep his charm to himself and slyly said [dika]"Why does any man come into a bar? To have a drink, unwind, and get loose with others doing the same."[/dika] Dika reached for his finished drink just as the bartender added the straw. He picked it up, took a taste at the rim, and grinned. Dika held the glass up to the bartender in thanks, said [dika]"¡Salud!"[/dika] and turned his back to the bar, scanning the crowd for eye candy to ogle over the edge of his great drink.
  2. March 2, 2020 - 6:15am What?...when?....I want……what do you mean he already said he wouldn’t talk to me? Judy did you…. What about the chief did he……ya… ya…. ok…..I get it. Phone snapped shut viciously before being jammed back into her front pocket. Doji bakayaro koshinuke sukebe saitei……… Back of her head hit the wall several times as the string of insulting expletives continued to mutter from her lips. It was the third cop from her district to jump ship to the Vanguard since the bloody moon events in November. Men she had always known to be good cops were suddenly bigoted "kill them all" fanboys. Pussy… Last insult breathed from her lips as she pushed from the wall. Having the dispatch girl tell her was the final insult of just how pathetic Joe had proved to be. There was a reason they didn’t want to talk to her when they made such stupid decisions. She wasn’t called the barracuda behind her back for no reason. Her words could slice a man and leave him cowering in the aftermath. And all this before her damn morning coffee. The door she had just been grabbing when the phone had rung and interrupted was grabbed once more, pulled open a bit roughly as she strode up to the counter to wait her turn still half muttering under her breath when Rachel asked a second time if she wanted the usual. Huh… ?.. oh sorry Rachel… ya… the usual… and one of those cinnamon walnut..things you keep trying to pawn off on me. The girl behind the counter lit up. She was a bit of a baker and so was always creating something new for the café. Unfortunately the detective wasn’t a breakfast person so she was usually disappointed every time she offered. Today just felt like a sit down and eat sort of day. It was going to be long and annoying; two things best dealt with on a full gut. The small coffee cake was pulled from the top of the glass case as she turned to park at the table in the front corner, taking the seat with her back to the wall. It was a cop thing. Picking at the little coffee cake concoction while she waited for her triple espresso, she had to admit, the thing wasn’t half bad. So…. big decision for the morning was did she go into the precinct and deal with this shit? Or just hit the pavement. She was strongly leaning towards the latter as the other method hadn't bought her any good will with the chief the last two times cops turned traitor on them. Fuck Mondays.
  3. February 20, 2020 1:30 PM Where Columbia had remained open even through the madness of the apocalypse, it had been ten years, and there was no longer even a fraction of a reason why the best and brightest of what remained of the nation could not attend a top school. Alec did, of course, miss his Alma Mater, but Chicago was a long way to go, just to see what probably was little more than a zombie breeding ground for any foolish enough to venture forth. Nonetheless, here the mage... no, today, the scholar, the doctor, found himself, standing in front of a podium. [walker] Testing, one two three. [/walker] Alec spoke into the microphone. Nothing happened, and he fiddled with the device for a moment before just chucking it under the podium into the storage space there. It was a simple cantrip to amplify one's voice. [walker]Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. If you would please take your seats, the lecture will begin shortly.[/walker] Students continued speaking amongst themselves, making it obvious who the dedicated learners among them were, and who had simply attended for some social experience. Alec cleared his throat, still amplifying the sounds from his vocal cords, and then, when the class would not come to order, layering his voice with a light mezmer. Some students were still unaffected, but when they saw the rest of the class sitting down, they obliged as well. Alec dropped the layered speech and unfolded a few notes on the podium. [walker]As I'm sure you all know, because you have come to hear me speak, I am Dr. Alec Walker, one of the world's few remaining experts on Scandinavian history and, in particular, the use of its Runic alphabet for the practice of magic.[/walker] Alec had long since given up on powerpoint, and instead opted for an overhead projector like the ones his own teachers had used in elementary school. [walker] Yes, this device here on stage with me looks like it belongs in the era of the dinosaurs, but as I trust you all know, having spent the last ten years in the same world as the rest of us, magic tends to render technology unusable, so I keep things simple.[/walker] The first transparency to be placed on the projector was simply the alphabet of Futhark, in its eldest form. [walker] You may recognize some of these letters, and you may wonder what some of them even are. The fact is that Futhark is the direct predecessor to the romanized alphabet. For a time, the rune "thorn," pronounced "th," was a part of the English language, until we replaced it with the letter Y in print. "Ye olde sweet shop" is actually "the olde sweet shop."[/walker] Alec chuckled, though no one else probably would. [walker]But enough boring you all with etymology. You want to know about this. [/walker] The second transparency was an image of the Galdabrok, more specifically, the very copy Alec had touched on that first Resonated day. [walker] Of course, you have all learned the history of our world, illuminated as it has been by those who were here before, and those who have since returned. In the days before the very first Resonance, Humanity knew how to harness and wield magic. In the days after that first schism, magic drained from the world, but the rituals that were used to try and harness it once more were preserved. Around the world, different languages and cultures developed their own rituals, hence the lack of any dedicated curriculum for spellcasting in the modern day.[/walker] Alec switched transparencies once again. [walker]Here, for example, you see three different languages, each detailing a way to cast the exact same spell. [/walker] A small dummy was wheeled out onto the lecture stage, and Alec assumed a stance clearly. He first chanted the words in the Futhark dialect, sending a sphere of wind across the stage with an audible whoosh and a visible impact, knocking over the dummy. It was propped back up, and Alec spoke the words next in Arabic, with the same, albeit weaker result. Finally, he spoke the words in Urdu, to an even weaker result. [walker] My magic stems from my connection to the runes, and as such, it is strongest in connection to other, similar languages. Now, each of these three incantations are typically paired with a set of rituals, usually involving spell circles, magical foci, and other accouterments. With practice, any magician can move beyond such ritualistic preparations and cast the spell, often without invocations. Like this. [/walker] Alec held out his palm once more, firing a ball of wind across the stage with the same intensity and ferocity as the first, to the same result. The talk went on to discuss the roots of magic as rooted in linguistics, and the fact that where Freud believed totemism was an attempt to understand the world, it was, according to Alec's own theory, an attempt to restore the world to its former state. Eventually, the bearded mage stopped talking, and opened up the floor to questions.

LISTED!

AFFILIATES

OUR BUTTON