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Old March 7th, 2014 (2:17 AM). Edited March 7th, 2014 by Skymin.
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Skymin Skymin is offline
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March Edition

Welcome to our latest, monthly RPChallenge! Since it’s been a long time since the RPOs, and many of our current users weren’t around to experience it, we will be posing RPChallenges on a monthly basis. These challenges are short, require only one post and will be voted on by helpful members – the winner will receive a shiny new emblem and a one-time HTML usertitle!

This event will last until 28th March, judging will then take place!

This week's challenge is... fanfictions!!

By Friday the 28th of March, you can write a small fanfiction of your roleplay of choice. Fanfiction includes alternate universes (AU), situations which you might have wanted to happen and couldn't or unexplored relationships. Or all of the above! Keep in mind about the roleplaying rules and do not let yourself too get out of hand (see rules). There is no limit on how long it is (asides the 100 word rule) so please, feel free to write to your hearts content!

>>> RULES!
  • The Roleplay in question must be hosted at the Roleplay Corner and must currently be active.
  • Characters do not have to be yours, but make sure you credit their original creators when using them.
  • When posting, spoiler your fanfiction and place a rating above it for the discretion of readers. REMEMBER THE RATINGS. Smut is absolutely not allowed! If you believe that you cannot post your fanfiction here but still want to be a part of the challenge, send me a PM directly and I can discuss it with you.
  • Post any questions, queries, etc. in this thread or VM/PM me directly.

Since this event is a fun one, judges can compete but cannot vote on their own!

Judge 1: Skymin
Judge 2: firelordyago
Judge 3: gimmiepie
Judge 4: Raikiri

Judges will give entries a mark out of 10 for their overall enjoyment of the fanfiction and a mark out of ten for grammar/punctuation, as well as a small write up including constructive criticism and compliments!

Happy writing!

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Old March 7th, 2014 (3:35 AM).
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gimmepie gimmepie is offline
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I talked to Magic earlier but figure I'd volunteer here too, can I fill one of the remaining judging spots?

"Oh! But this isn't the end, my friend!"
Old March 7th, 2014 (3:55 AM).
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Skymin Skymin is offline
part time demon hunter
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Sure thing. One spot left! O:
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Old March 7th, 2014 (7:22 AM).
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Legend Legend is offline
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I'll judge. I like judging. It is fun.

Old March 7th, 2014 (7:55 PM).
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Chocolate™ Chocolate™ is offline
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Keep this as a placeholder. Also, does the RP have to be one in which you're in?
Old March 8th, 2014 (12:38 AM).
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Skymin Skymin is offline
part time demon hunter
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Originally Posted by TD View Post
Keep this as a placeholder. Also, does the RP have to be one in which you're in?
not necessarily! if you read and keep up with it, I'm all for it. Just make sure to credit when its due!
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Old March 10th, 2014 (3:17 AM).
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Ray Maverick Ray Maverick is offline
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I have a question: I've already posted a fic (this one), does it still qualify?

*** Open Blue OOC ***
Old March 10th, 2014 (3:40 AM).
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Skymin Skymin is offline
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As long as it is a fan fiction of a currently active roleplay, I'm okay with it. :)
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Old March 23rd, 2014 (4:57 PM). Edited March 25th, 2014 by GastlyGibus.
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GastlyGibus GastlyGibus is offline
I can't hear ya, ya talkin' to me?
    Join Date: Jan 2014
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    Here's my entry. The characters are all mine, but the Roleplay is Ray's: Crimson Dawn: A Tale of Conquest

    Rated TEEN for mild language.

    Date: 1047 AP


    “My hero!”

    “Only doing my jo-- whoa!” The Scrafty couldn’t even finish his sentence before the Lilligant princess grabbed him in a half-hug, half tackle. The princess, Cassandra, held onto the rather dashing Scrafty pirate, Marshall. Suddenly, Marshall grabbed the princess and turned her around, letting her fall and lean back in his arms as he held her.

    “Oh Marshall, how can I ever thank you? You’ve saved the kingdom!” Cassandra swooned, giggling as Marshall leaned his head closer to hers, flicking her a mischievous smirk.

    “How about like this?” Marshall said, grinning at the princess seductively. Cassandra simply laughed at his antics; she couldn’t help but fall for the handsome rogue. Marshall leaned in close, closing his eyes as Cassandra followed suit. Their faces only inches apart, as they were lost in the moment, closing in…


    “Mistress Cassandra, I have your chamomille tea!”

    Cassandra was jolted out of her daydream by the interruption. She looked around, still in her room, sitting on the bed. An open book lay in her hands: ”Marshall Leroy and the pirates of Carajol.” She had gotten lost in her fantasy novels again. She let out a sigh, before lifting her head towards the closed door to her room.

    “It’s open, Varkas.”

    The door opened slowly as Varkas, a rather large and intimidating Pangoro, stepped in. Contrary to his appearance, he wore a friendly smile, carrying in a small tray with a steaming teapot and a small teacup.

    “Your tea, Mistress Cassandra. It’s piping hot, fresh off the fire!” Varkas, despite his species reputation, was quite the gentleman. His status as a house servant didn’t seem to bother him in the least, in fact, he seemed to enjoy his job working for the Eldren family.

    “Thanks, Varkas,” Cassandra said, as the Pangoro servant placed the tray on her nightstand. With a gentle hand, he took the teapot and began to pour the boiling water into the glass, taking the tea-bag in his other hand and lightly dipping it into the cup. He flashed Cassandra a friendly smile, handing the small teacup to the Lilligant, the latter taking the cup and returning Varkas’ smile. “And please, Varkas, you don’t have to call me ‘mistress.’”

    “Ah, but your mother is out now, which makes you the lady of the house, mistress,” Varkas said teasingly, though a small amount of seriousness in his tone as well. Cassandra always insisted against it, but Varkas never abandoned the formalities of his position. Cassandra brought the tea to her face, taking a whiff on the contents and letting out a sigh of contentment.

    “Thanks, Varkas…” Cassandra said. She kept her smile as she held her tea, but something was off about her demeanor. Her smile seemed… insincere. Varkas looked at her, studying her expressions, his smile fading as he noticed that something was wrong.

    “Is something troubling you, mistress?” he asked, genuinely concerned for her. Varkas had noticed that Cassandra seemed a bit distant over the past few days. She must have had something on her mind, but he couldn’t decipher what exactly it was.

    “Oh, no… it’s fine,” Cassandra said. She was lying, and she knew it, but she had no intentions of dragging Varkas into her personal troubles. As kind and caring as he was, Cassandra couldn’t bring herself to burden him with her issues. “I’m just… thinking. That’s all.”

    Varkas could sense her deception, but decided against pressing her on the matter. Still, he wanted to cheer her up if he could. He noticed the book she had been reading previously now lying on the bed beside her. “You enjoy those fantasy novels, don’t you?”

    Cassandra looked over at the book as well. The cover depicted the titular Scrafty, Marshall, fighting off an army of soldiers, a confident grin on his face despite the overwhelming odds. She laughed slightly as Varkas brought the subject up. “I do. This one is special. I found it collecting dust an old library. It’s silly, I know, but I love it. It’s a guilty pleasure."

    “Well, if would like, I could keep an eye out for some of them when I visit the market next. Just say the word.” Varkas replied. He never saw the point in those types of cheesy romantic stories, but Cassandra enjoyed them, and if they made her happy, he would buy all the books in Exathor for her. Anything to bring her out of her slump that had been plaguing her.

    “Oh no, you don’t have to do that for me,” Cassandra said. Even though Varkas was considered the servant of the house, she thought of him more as a friend. She could never ask him to do something like that for her, especially paying out of his own pocket. “I don’t think Father likes me reading them anyways, when I could be devoting time to more important things.”

    Varkas frowned a bit. Her attempts to be modest were not working. He knew Cassadra’s father had bought those books for her on occasion. Why would he have any problem with her reading them? Regardless, it was apparent that Cassandra wanted to be left alone for the time being. He took the tray he had brought in earlier, picking it up as he began to walk out of the room. As he reached the door, he turned back to face the Eldren’s daughter.

    “I must tend to the garden now. You should come out sometime, get some fresh air. The Gracidea flowers are almost in bloom; they’re absolutely beautiful this time of year.”

    “Thank you, Varkas,” Cassandra replied, giving the Pangoro a weak smile. With that, Varkas had left, closing the door behind him.

    Once she was alone again, Cassandra dropped the smile, letting out a long exhale. She took a sip from her tea, placing the cup on the nightstand near her bed. She took a look around her room. Her room was very extravagant, great care and precision going into every last detail and decoration. It exuded an air of regality, the mahogany dressers adorned with various gold-plated decorations, brightening the room with their lustrous guise.

    Here she was, wasting away in her room yet again, unable to find the motivation to go out and do something. She hadn’t spoken to her friends in so long; it almost felt as if she had none at all. A year earlier, she’d be outside, playing with her companions: Vincent, Alexis, Eliza…. They’d be off exploring the city of Skyhaven, going to places they shouldn’t have, pulling pranks, all in the name of the Guild…

    “The Guild…”

    Cassandra cringed at the thought. Originally, when she was younger, the Guild was just her and her friends. It was a silly club they had made, an exclusive group of sorts, but they had fun with it. Well, had being the key word.

    It started off innocent enough. Just simple exploring and harmless pranks. Simple pranks, though, no longer became sufficient for them. They delved into the less-savory acts. A misplaced key here, and stolen coin-purse there. It only got worse from there. Over time. the Guild continued it’s unwitting pursuance of depravity. All at the behest of their leader, Atris.

    “Atris…!” Cassandra slammed her fist down onto the bed. How she abhorred the mere thought that Braixen. That cruel, manipulative, loathsome…. And yet, as much as she resented it now, Cassandra would be lying if she hadn’t enjoyed her time in the Guild.

    Cassandra pouted, still sitting on her bed. She enjoyed her time with them, to an extent. She didn't approve of their later actions, but they were harmless enough not to raise any serious concerns. It was not until the incident a year ago that she began to question the Guild’s actions. What had been planned as a simple holdup had quickly escalated out of control. Cassandra made a split-second decision, one she regretted ever since. After that day, her and the Guild had a falling out. She questioned their leader, Atris, and their actions as a whole. Atris simply dismissed her, successfully turning Cassandra’s friends - her former friends - against her.

    Cassandra clenched her teeth, her hands forming into fists, fuming with anger. It was all Atris fault! That woman had ruined everything, turned her friends against her. Now she spent her days isolated in her room; self-imposed exile.


    “Ow!” Cassandra’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted as a stray pebble struck the side of her head. She rubbed her temple, looking down at the projectile that had landed on her bed. She picked it up, examining it; it looked like one of the rocks from the garden. Cassandra quickly got up off the bed, walking over to the door of her room. It was still closed, curiously enough. She opened it slightly, looking through to the other side. Just outside the door was the main hall of the house, where a small Pawniard child sat cross-legged on the floor - her adopted brother, Tavhir. The Pawniard was silent, a few scattered papers and writing utensils on the floor around him as he drew pictures to entertain himself. The house was eerily quiet, as most of the maids and butlers were off attending matters outside.

    “Well, couldn’t have come from out here…” Cassandra thought to herself, clutching the pebble in her hand. She left the door cracked open, turning to face the inside of her room again. She looked around in confusion, until she noticed she had left the window open, the navy curtains swaying slightly in the breeze. Suddenly, another pebble flew in the window, landing on the floor with a small tapping sound. She walked over to the open window, looking out at the ground below. Her room was several stories high, and for a moment, she couldn’t make out anything from such a height. “Who’s throwing rocks up--”

    She stopped, looking down and noticing the perpetrator. It was an Ivysaur, flinging small rocks at the window with her vines. Cassandra instantly recognized her: it was Alexis, her old friend. She hadn’t seen her in over a year. It had been so long, Cassandra was about to jump with glee.

    Then she remembered why she hadn’t seen her in such a long time.

    Cassandra, in a fit of rage, threw the pebble she held in her hand down at Alexis, smacking the Ivysaur square on her forehead.

    “Ow! Cassandra, what was that for!?” The Ivysaur said with irritation.

    “You have a lot of nerve coming here, you know!” Cassandra accused, staring daggers at her former friend. “Go away! Now, before I call the guards!”

    “Cassandra, please, we need to talk,” the Ivysaur pleaded.

    “No!” Cassandra spat, grabbing the other pebble from the floor and throwing it as well, once again hitting her target. “I have nothing to say to you! Now, go away!”

    Alexis winced in pain from the second rock. She knew Cassandra would be mad, and to be fair, Alexis felt the anger was justified. Still, she was here to make amends, and she was going to do so, whether Cassandra wanted to or not.

    “Cassandra, this is important! I know you’re angry at me, and I deserve it, but we have to talk!” Alexis shouted from the ground below. Cassandra let out a sigh of exasperation; she had half a mind to slam the window and shut Alexis out completely. However, it had been so long since she had last seen the Ivysaur; maybe she had changed? As much as she didn’t want to, she decided to give Alexis the benefit of the doubt. Cassandra reached into one of her dressers, pushing aside the fabrics and accessories and grabbing a long, sturdy rope that she had kept hidden. She tied one end of the rope securely to her bedpost, walking over to the window once again and dropping the remaining length of rope out the window. The Ivysaur smiled, grabbing the rope with her vines and pulling herself up towards the window.

    Alexis made it to the windowsill, pulling herself through the opening and rolling clumsily onto the floor. She picked herself up, looking over at Cassandra who stood at the other end of the room. The Lilligant was fuming, her arms crossed and her face bearing an expression of rage and irritation.

    “Well, what is it?” Cassandra demanded. No ‘hello, how have you been,’ no ‘good to see you;’ they had past the point of such pleasantries long ago. “I told you already I’m not going back. You and your little… friends can go and fall off the edge of Exathor for all I care!”

    “I’m not here to bring you back,” Alexis responded, unable to look her friend in the face out of shame. She never realized just how hurt and angry she had made Cassandra. Alexis filled with sorrow and grief, knowing that she was the sole cause for Cassandra’s rage.

    “Then why are you even here?!” Cassandra said, nearly shouting at her once-good friend. “Come to mock me some more? What was I again? Weak? Spineless?

    Alexis recoiled in guilt and shame, those last words cutting her like daggers, those unpleasant memories rushing back to familiarity. The day Cassandra left, the resulting argument, their falling out. Alexis felt lower than dirt, and she couldn’t help but feel that she deserved it.

    “I bet the Guild put you up to this… those... those… bastards!

    “Cassandra, please!” Alexis said. As much as she probably deserved the verbal abuse, she needed to talk to Cassandra, something which was becoming increasingly difficult with her constantly raising her voice. “I’m not with the Guild anymore! I left them!”

    “You-- wait… what?” Cassandra calmed down considerably, trying to process what had just been said.

    “You were right,” Alexis started, looking down at the floor. “You were right and I was wrong.”

    “Wha… what do you mean?” Cassandra asked, puzzled, her anger beginning to subside.

    “You were right about the Guild…” Alexis answered, the Ivysaur bringing her head up to meet Cassandra’s gaze. “You were right about them, about Atris, about… everything.” Alexis continued, beginning to tear up slightly. As quickly as she met Cassandra's gaze, she turned away, shutting her eyes. “Look, I know I was an awful friend, and I said some terrible things. You have every right to be mad at me, and if you never want to see me again, then I--”

    Alexis was interrupted by Cassandra leaping at her, wrapping her arms around Alexis’ neck in a hug. Alexis was shocked; how could she be forgiven so easily?

    “Alexis, I’m so sorry! Please don’t say things like that!” Cassandra said, trying to hold back tears of her own. Alexis simply stood in surprise. She was sorry? Alexis was confused; what did Cassandra have to be sorry about? Alexis was the one who should have been apologizing.

    “I-I don’t understand…” Alexis managed to stammer out. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

    Cassandra withdrew from the embrace, looking into Alexis eyes, tears streaming down her face.

    “I missed you so much,” Cassandra said, her tone changed completely. There was no more anger now, a mixture of joy and sorrow taking it’s place. “And now you’re back after so long… and I treat you like dirt…”

    “I deserve it…” Alexis said, once again finding herself unable to look Cassandra in the eye. “The things I said when you left a year ago-”

    “-are in the past,” Cassandra interrupted, leaning in to hug Alexis once more. “I’m just happy to see you again…”

    The two of them stayed silent as they embraced, quietly crying. Not tears of sadness, but of joy, having made their amends. No words were spoken for minutes; there was no need.

    Eventually, they ended their embrace, both sitting on the floor as they wiped the tears from their eyes. Cassandra gave Alexis a warm smile, showing that she was indeed forgiven, and Alexis returned the gesture.

    “So…” Cassandra said, wiping the remaining moisture from her eyes as she broke the silence. “Why did you quit the Guild?”

    “I told you,” Alexis said, finally able to look at her friend again without guilt. “You were right. The Guild has changed, and not for the better. Atris has gone nuts. I feel so stupid having taken this long to realize that.”

    “Don’t feel that way,” Cassandra said, attempting to comfort her friend. “Better to realize it now than never.”

    “I suppose…” Alexis said. She was glad Cassandra had accepted her again, but she still felt bad for having taken so long to recognize the truth in her words so long ago. “Atris… she’s just gotten worse and worse since you left. Kept babbling on about her ‘mission,’ and how we were ‘serving the greater good.’ She’s convinced that what she’s doing is right and just.”

    “What do you mean?” Cassandra asked, confused. “What is she doing?”

    “She started taking on bounties,” Alexis responded. “Killing people for profit… I was appalled, but for the longest time I was too scared to say anything, afraid she’d do something terrible.”

    Cassandra held her hand over her mouth, a gasp escaping her mouth. Robbing people was one thing, but taking on bounties? It was almost unthinkable, even for Atris.

    “I kept thinking about what you had said before you left,” Alexis continued. “I found the courage to stand up to her. I told her she was in the wrong, and that I was going to tell the city guard if she didn’t stop. Atris just laughed at me, almost as if she was daring me to do so.”

    “So what did you do?”

    “I left. I told her I couldn’t take part in the Guild anymore, that she had gone too far.” Alexis said, growing slightly angry at the thought of Atris. “She just laughed again, and told me I wasn’t ‘good enough for the Guild.’ I told the guard. I told them everything. But by the time they came to investigate, Atris was long gone… she had packed up and left without a trace.”

    “I see…” Cassandra said, a bit disheartened that Atris was still on the loose. “What about the others?”

    “They left with her,” Alexis stated plainly. “Unlike you and I, they were practically under her spell.”

    “That’s awful…” Cassandra said, sadness in her voice. All of her old friends were now gone, off doing Arceus-knows-what with that mad-woman, Atris. As much as she missed them, she was more than grateful that Alexis had come back.

    They shared a solemn silence, the past haunting their memories. The Guild, their former colleagues and compatriots, off continuing their heinous acts. It was unthinkable how they had fallen so far - how they had gone from tame fun to such extremes. How could the others not see the moral implications of their actions? Vincent with his fun-loving and care-free attitude; Gabriel’s calm and collected self; Eliza, the indomitable spirit… all of them, for all intents and purposes, brainwashed by Atris and her vision of ‘justice.’

    Alexis looked towards the door, noticing the Pawniard from earlier, drawing pictures by himself. Before Cassandra had left the Guild, she had told about the boy’s situation.

    “How’s Tavhir holding up?” she asked, desiring a change in subject, something less sullen. Cassandra sighed, her gaze following Alexis’ and looking over at the orphaned boy in the main hall.

    “He’s doing better. He’s still very distant, though. Very… reserved.” Cassandra said. Ever since Tavhir had come into their home, he hardly ever spoke a word. Of course, that much was to be expected. To lose your family, in front of your own eyes even, was certain to leave it’s scars. Even a year after being found and adopted by the Eldrens, Tavhir was just as quiet and distant as ever.

    “He’ll open up in time, I’m sure of it,” Alexis said reassuringly. “It’s a good thing you’re doing for him, Cassandra.”

    Cassandra gave a weak smile. She appreciated her friend’s kind words, even if she herself was unsure of their truth. She had felt guilty over her actions in the Guild; helping to raise this misplaced child was her own sort of redemption.

    “Vennson is home! Malorie, strike up the stove and prepare supper!”

    The voice rang throughout the house, one of the maids announcing the arrival of Vennson, Cassandra’s father. He had been on a tour of duty for the past few months, stationed in Fargal Keep. Now he was finally home, to stay for a few weeks time.

    “I should go,” Alexis said, turning towards Cassandra. She gave the Lilligant a reassuring and heartfelt smile. Their time together was cut short, but they had made their amends. The time for catching up would come later. “We’ll have to get together again soon.”

    “I’d like that,” Cassandra said warmly. Alexis got up, walking back toward the window. With a secure grip on the rope that she had used to climb up, she descended down to the ground below. Once she had left, Cassandra reeled the rope back in through the window, rolling it up quickly and stashing it back in it’s drawer. As soon as she was finished, she heard the front door in the main hall open, a familiar voice calling out.

    “Cassandra! Tavhir!”

    Cassandra smiled, running out of her room and into the main hall. She looked towards the main entrance, seeing the form of a Tropius standing in the doorway: her father, Vennson.

    “Father!” she exclaimed in joy, rushing over to greet him.

    “Cassandra!” Vennson replied, lowering his head to her level as she approached. She grappled his neck in a joyful hug, wrapping her arms around him and showing the biggest smile she had in weeks. Withdrawing from her embrace, Vennson looked over his daughter and smiled. “You grow more and more beautiful every time I come home.”

    Cassandra beamed at the compliment. Vennson raised his head up, looking over towards the Pawniard, Tavhir, still sitting at his spot on the floor. Tavhir simply looked at the Tropius, though it wasn’t clear as to what he was thinking.

    “How are you doing, Tavhir?” Vennson asked the boy, concerned, bringing his head down low to meet the boy’s gaze. Tavhir looked at him for a moment, pondering over the question.

    “I’m okay, Mr. Eldren…” He responded, his quiet voice sounding almost monotone. Vensson’s smile faded at being called “Mr. Eldren.” Even after a year, it seemed the boy still hadn’t opened up.

    “If there’s anything you need, you need only to ask,” Vennson said before straightening his neck and raising his head. “I’ll be in my study. I’ll see you all for supper.”

    As Vennson left the room, Cassandra stood in the main hall with Tavhir, the latter resuming his drawing. She looked over the Pawniard's shoulder, seeing the illustrations that he was making. For a child of only seven years age, he drew with remarkable detail and precision, using techniques like shading and perspective. While it wasn’t the best, it was clear he had experience. Cassandra was intrigued. She took a seat on the floor next to him, hoping to get him to open up with some small talk.

    “These are some really nice drawings,” she said calmly, looking over the scattered drawings around the Pawniard. Images of caves, tunnels, cities, places, and Pokemon. She picked up one of the papers, depicting several Pokemon mining in a tunnel, expressions of determination of their face.

    “Thank you…” Tavhir responded quietly, his gaze remaining on the picture in front of him as he continued to draw. Cassandra looked at the drawing he was working on; it bore the image of an Aggron, who looked to be a warrior of sorts. His steel scales and armoring were adorned with various jewels and gold trimmings, and the look on his face showed bravery and courage.

    “Who’s that?” Cassandra asked. Tavhir stopped drawing for a moment, seemingly lost in thought as he formulated an answer.

    “That’s Ascan,” he replied, pausing to look over the image as a whole. “He was the first chieftain of the Eshir. They say that Ascan fell into a large pit where the city of Ascanfell now stands, which is how the city got it’s name.”

    Cassandra was shocked at his answer. She normally had a hard time getting more than two words at a time out of the boy, let alone a complete sentence. Perhaps it was simply a matter of finding things he wanted to talk about?

    “He looks like a brave warrior,” Cassandra replied, thinking of ways to continue the subject, hoping to get Tavhir out of his reclusive shell. She noticed several other pictures, all bearing the images of different Stygian historical figures she recognized from her studies. She saw Serena Nightsong and Shatrath, of the Otori and Tocan tribes respectively; she recognized Chantalai, the first Lord of the Vanir, and Fiaje, the Eshirian who fought against the Dark Cult. Even still, there were some figures she couldn’t quite place.

    There was one picture in particular that caught her eye. Looking it over, it contained a host of lord and chieftains from the Stygian tribe, all standing side-by-side, battle ready as they looked towards the horizon. Some of them she recognized, and others she didn’t know at all. “Are these all Stygian heroes?”

    Tavhir nodded in response to Cassandra’s question. “Papa used to tell stories about all the Chieftains. Mama really liked Serena...”

    Tavhir suddenly paused as he thought of his family. His expression was blank as he stared at the pictures in front of him, thinking of his parents and his home.

    “I miss them…”

    Cassandra looked at the boy with worry, yet Tavhir’s expression was blank. No sadness… just pensive thought. She put her arm around his shoulder, assuring him without words that everything was okay. They sat like this for several minutes, silently, comforting one another. Eventually, Cassandra spoke up and broke the silence.

    “Do you want to come out and walk in the garden with me?” Cassandra said in an effort to cheer up the boy. “Varkas tells me the Gracidea flowers are in bloom.”

    Tavhir nodded his acceptance of the offer, putting his drawing utensils down and rising to his feet, Cassandra following suit, Together, they both walked outside to the gardens, enjoying each others company.

    "Johnny rocked that golden circle, and all those VIPs, and that music that had freed us became a tired routine.
    And I saw his face in close-up tryin' to give it all he had, and sometimes his eyes betrayed him, you could see that he was sad.

    And I tried to rock on with him, but I slowly became bored
    Could that man on stage with everything somehow need some more?"

    Old March 24th, 2014 (6:11 PM).
    DLMuerte DLMuerte is offline
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      I just thought of something safe I could go into involving fanfiction with one of my own characters, so I'll try and post that when I can.
      homestuck fan club | ethersworn | minimalist theme
      Old March 24th, 2014 (11:17 PM).
      Mana's Avatar
      Mana Mana is offline
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      This ends on Friday guys! Remember to post your fics in time.
      Old March 25th, 2014 (7:46 AM). Edited March 25th, 2014 by Ray Maverick.
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      Ray Maverick Ray Maverick is offline
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      Here's my fic! Vaults of Reflection: the Sacred Fruit [T]

      The following is a short novel based on Crimson Dawn: A Tale of Conquest, a roleplay.

      1047 AP

      "Amoon village, here I come! You had best be prepared!" Dareon shouted, sprinting wildly towards the bridge above the waterfalls. The Ampharos was always quick on his feet, faster than Achilles, who couldn't keep up with him no matter what, stronger, and more popular with the ladies for his cotton hair and smooth fur.

      Garland was faster than all of them. He'd left them behind in a rush to reach his hometown as soon as possible.

      Achilles was left clutching his knees and panting from all the running. He'd never breathed air more fresh than this. When his lungs were full, he looked up. Across the waterfalls, there was the town of the Otori, built under the shade of the massive trees that grew in Vigil's Forest. The sight was captivating, even for someone like Achilles. This is an excellent spot for tourism, he found himself thinking, though the locals aren't the most hospitable people, from what I gather. Typical of him, to be on the lookout for profitable business opportunities. He crouched and touched the ground with his hand. Taking a bit of wet, cool soil, he took a whiff. I should take a sample to the lab. If there's any flogistron to be found here, I will know of it right away. Even though he was only twenty years old, he was already the CEO of Flogistron Co., the international Exathian company for the special fuel, flogistron, that was used by zeppelins and airships. The Trade Prince Kalis had always told him to look for potential sources of flogistron wherever he went, so he had made it his habit to check the soil.

      "Achilles!" Dareon shouted from across the bridge. "Don't stop, now, I don't want to be seeing you panting. You're a Medicham, for Arceus's sake. Come."

      The Emperor of Exathor was always impatient. Oh yes, Dareon was the Emperor, Ruler of All Exathian Nations and First Man of Union and Alliance, and he was only in his mid-twenties. Looking at him, an Ampharos with a satchel and an explorer's helmet, he didn't look like the part. But then again, neither did Achilles look his part. A CEO of Flogistron would never go hunting in Vigil's Forest, then get carried away for a spontaneous visit in a friend's hometown, which was at least thirty miles away from Union City. The three friends, Dareon, Garland and Achilles had to travel through the dense Vigil's Forest to come here, and in the wild, they were forced to abandon their lordly, appropriate looks. Achilles was doing his best to keep clean, but it was a lost cause. Dareon would just push him in a puddle of mud every time he saw one and Garland would mock him for being too much like his mother.

      "I'm on my way," the Medicham said, crossing the bridge.

      He found Garland surrounded by his family members. Most of them were Floatzel, like him. They were shouting and cheering for him, and he was laughing and cheering too.
      Garland was brimming brilliantly with happiness like a beacon. And his psyche was contagious, spreading to the members of his family. Those around him were always happy. That's what drew Dareon and Achilles to him; that's what made him so popular among his brothers and sisters of the Gold Tribe. The title of the Exalted One suit him well.

      "Granny!" Garland shouted, hugging an elderly Floatzel whose hair on top of her head had grown so much, it covered her eyes entirely.

      "Whiteknight!" Garland turned to a Lopunny next to him, shaking hands, "good to see you, cousin."

      "And brother," the male teenage Lopunny chuckled in response, "I'll soon be your brother, just you wait and see! The Gold Tribe can't refuse me."

      "It's so good to see you, my boy," the granny said, her voice weak and weary. She then noticed the
      Ampharos. "My, my, who is that? He looks familiar..."

      "He's the Emperor!" somebody shouted.

      "The Emperor? He's here?"

      "Yes! Look at him, same as his father!"
      The little crowd started fussing about, surrounding the beautiful Ampharos. The ones the front lines were jumping, trying to get a better look at him. Normally, nobody would be allowed this close to the First Man of Union and Alliance, as his position required security to be extremely tight. The Gold Tribe handled his security, and the only one in the Gold Tribe here was Garland. The rest of the members of the Tribe wouldn't allow this, of course, but Dareon was a wild and unruly man, always doing what he will, not what he must. That's how Achilles and Garland were dragged into an adventure in the woods, where all sorts of dangers lurked.

      "Unbelievable. Why did you come all this way out here?"

      "Some time away from our duties would do us good, we reckoned," the
      Ampharos said in his stately voice, "and my friend Garland here had begun missing his family and hometown."

      "But it was your idea to come here," Garland said, his smile wide across his snout. "I can't just say no to your whims."

      Dareon roared his laughter up the skies. "You still missed them! Admit it!"

      "I did."

      Achilles was standing behind those two, watching the commotion as motionless as a rock. Nobody paid him much attention. Nobody ever noticed the third member of the company; he had no family to return to, he wasn't of noble birth to be loved by every Pokemon in the kingdom. He wasn't a gallant hero of the Gold Tribe, nor had fancy titles along with his name. He was only Achilles, a stinking-rich guy who owned some fuel company, as far as some people knew, and his face wasn't known at all. His face was a mask right now, watching as the villagers ignored him. It was Garland's grandmother that noticed him first.

      "And who would you be?" she asked nicely.

      The Medicham's face was suddenly lit by his smile that didn't reach his cold, blue eyes. It was a fake smile, part of his standard procedure of communication. If business had taught him one thing, it was to smile. "Greetings. My name is Achilles Proudmoore," he said in his hushed tone that did not mix well with his smile. "A dear friend of Garland's, as I am sure he would be glad to inform you."

      "Proudmoore, eh?" the granny said, with the accent of the Otori countrymen. "Can't say I've heard your name, boy. Where do you come from?"

      "Oh, I'd like to know that myself," he only said. He looked around the village. The trees, the waterfalls, the houses, all were reflected upon his pale, blue eyes. "Your town is so beautiful. It would be magnificent if I had a home here."

      "I'm sorry, honey, but we don't let strangers live with us..."

      Achilles laughed a bit. "Then let us be acquainted, lady..."

      "Lady Jane Fordring," she said, smiling, fascinated by the young Medicham.

      "Did I hear something about a home?" Garland asked cheerfully. The two Floatzel looked so much like one another. "Let Achilles stay, granny. He's like family to me."

      Jane laughed. "Alrighy, then, I'll speak with Cendric and arrange a deal. But only because my little Garry likes you."

      "Of course, I appreciate that," Achilles said, smiling brilliantly and bowing slightly.

      "Hey, where's sis?" Garland asked.

      "She went out to the woods," another Floatzel from the family informed him.

      "Let's go find her," Dareon roared, raising his fists in the air. He dashed through the town, leaving the relatives of Garland behind. "Race you to the end of the town!"

      "A poor challenge," Garland declared, rushing after him, "you'll lose."

      Dareon laughed, the Floatzel almost having reached him already. "Nah, it's Achilles who'll be finishing last!"


      The woods were magical. The grass was wet under their feet, the distant sound of the flowing rivers resonated in the clearing of the forest. Birds chirped melodic songs for the morning. The three friends were standing in front of a tree at least ten feet tall. It was a unique tree, nothing like Achilles had ever seen before. Its trunk was silver, like its many branches, and it had no leaves, oddly, only a strange kind of red fruit hanging from them. "Are those apples?" Dareon asked, reaching out his hand to pluck one out.

      "No!" Garland exclaimed, swatting his hand away. "You shouldn't eat that."

      "Huh? It's just a common apple."

      Achilles was staring at the tree in fascination. He didn't know why, but it caused him much discomfort. It was a strange feeling, not knowing why looking at this tree heightened his pulse.

      "It's not a common apple," Garland protested. "This is the sacred tree of the Otori, the heart of all forests on Exathor. Nobody is to go near it!"

      "Sacred tree, seriously?" Dareon said mockingly. "My people believe in the mighty being with the thousand arms that shaped the universe, Arceus, and your people believe in a tree?"

      Garland covered his face with his palm. "My people also believe in that mighty being with the thousand arms that shaped the universe, your Highness."

      The Emperor stared at him as if he was crazy. "Sacred tree or not, it's just an apple tree. Everything on this land is mine, Garland, including this. If I want to eat an apple, I will eat this apple."

      The two stared at each other wildly, suddenly seething with anger. Usually, it was Achilles who would split them before it got down to fighting, but right now, the Medicham was mesmerized by the silver tree. It seemed to glow in the sunlight. He looked around for others like it, but there was no sign that this tree had spread its seed around. Suddenly, Dareon begun laughing. The Ampharos pointed a finger at Garland. "You should've seen the look on your face, Garry! Hah! Come on, fight me you bastard! We'll settle this in a fight!"

      Garland chuckled. "You're on. Let's spar. Not here, though."

      They soon left, having forgotten about Achilles.

      The Medicham took two steps forward, his eyes reflecting the tree before him. The wind blew strongly for just a moment, as if to warn him not to step any further. He was now in reach of the nearest apple of the tree. It was luscious, red, fresh looking and mouth-watering.He noticed some Pidoves flying by, chirping in the evening.

      "Don't you eat these apples?" he asked the birds, but they were wild, and he did not get an answer.

      That's when a little shady figure appeared next to the tree. In broad daylight, that Pokemon looked nothing more than a wooden head, but Achilles recognized it as a Phantump, the spirits that haunt rotten tree stumps.

      "Nobody has ever eaten this apple!"
      the Phantump spoke with a child's voice.

      "Why is that?" Achilles asked, his gaze fixed curiously on the ghost. This conversation was certainly a product of his imagination.

      "You know... people say that it's bad if you eat the apple, but that's just stuff they say to keep you from tasting its sweetness."

      "Why should I eat this apple? There are plenty of other fruits in the forest."

      "But this one is special. Do you see any fallen apples around here? No! That's because they're meant to be eaten! Only fools would turn down such an exquisite meal. And only the boldest of the bold, the toughest of the tough can reach out for it..."

      Achilles thought of Dareon. Dareon was bold, bolder than him. Dareon didn't manage to eat the fruit. Dareon is tough... but not the toughest.

      "Mmm," the ghost said, reading his mind, "you are right! Are you bolder, tougher than him?"

      The Medicham in the clearing flexed his fingers, looking at them with his wide eyes. Physically, he wasn't strong. It was all the other things that made him strong. "I do not know yet."

      The Phantump laughed, "you do not know it yet... but you do qualify for eating this fruit." And with that, he was gone.

      With his hand, Achilles plucked the apple off the branch rather easily, as if it was ripe for falling.

      Achilles looked down at the apple in his hands. He took the first bite...

      "Hold!" someone screamed behind him. "What do you think you're doing?!" He turned only his head, still chewing on the heavenly, juicy apple. The experience was exquisite, and he instantly felt like the world was so much brighter. Not only because of the apple though.

      There was a Lopunny standing on the clearing, and although she was visibly angry, all he could see was her unique beauty. Achilles almost dropped the fruit. He wasn't scared of her, he was just astonished. So amazed, dazed by her bewildered expression and young looks. Normally, he would have his usual, strained smile on and have already made a valid excuse, given an apology for eating the forbidden fruit, offered a compensation and struck a quick deal with her... but nothing of the sort happened.

      Several moments passed with him too astounded to speak. His mouth was still full of the forbidden fruit, and the taste was fading away. Perhaps it was only an apple after all.

      Her hands on her hips, she was giving him the death stare. "Well?"

      "You," he choked awkwardly on a bit on the first bite of his apple, before resuming his hushed tone, "you must be..." Garland's sister. Warmth and comfort engulfed his spirit, and he couldn't tell if it was the girl he was seeing or the apple he just ate. He slowly recovered his subtle boldness. His smile appeared, only this time it reached his eyes. He didn't even know the Lopunny. It was a strange, unknown feeling to him, almost as alien as the impression that silver tree left him with. "Here I am, stumbling from one wonder to another," he muttered, his whole face burning up as if he had the fever.

      "What did you say?" she had the accent of the Otori and their fierceness. A real country girl with guts and no manners, it appeared.

      Achilles didn't even have the chance to reply. She started walking to him, her brown stare fixed on the apple he was holding. "How dare you!" She slapped him, and it stung. The apple fell from his hands to the grass below.

      "Did I offend you?" he asked in a silky voice.

      "This tree is sacred!" she grunted, "I knew outsiders were mindless, but to come this far...!"

      "Pardon me, my lady," he continued with sweet courtesy, "you are Otori, yes? You were watching us, weren't you?"

      She seemed confused and shocked. "You knew?" she said, then demanded to know, "how?"

      Achilles ignored her question. He used his psychic powers to send the apple flying from the grass to his hand, and he took another bite, looking her in the eye as he did.

      "Put that down!" she ordered. "That's our sacred tree, you can't..."

      I did not know this specimen was important to your people. Did my two friends mention something about it ? I apologize. I wasn't paying attention. I was mesmerized by the dazzling radiance of this tree."

      "Who were you talking to?!" she demanded to know.

      He quickly glanced behind him, knowing the Phantump was long gone. He took his time answering, enjoying the distant sound of the river and the company of an angry teenage country-girl. "Don't we all space out every now and then?"

      She stared at him suspiciously and he ignored her look. He took another bite from the apple, "but there's nothing to be done about it now. Would you like a bite?"

      "No! Don't. It's cursed."

      Achilles laughed. He had met a lot of superstitious people, but this one was cuter than all of them. He took an even bigger bite. "See? I am unhurt." He offered her the apple. "Try it out."

      "No way," she said, "it is forbidden." She glanced at the silver, glittering tree, then back at him. He could feel she was about to scold him again, but her attention was caught by something else. "What's that rock?" she asked curiously, pointing at the pendant hanging from his neck. Rather than a fancy, flashy jewel like most figures of importance wore, it was a simple, small rock. He was always wearing it, and people asked him that question all the time, but he never felt like telling them the truth. It was different with this girl.

      "I'll tell you, if you tell me your name."

      "Ariadne," she said.

      "This rock, Ariadne," Achilles whispered, "is the only thing I have to remind me of home. It's a rock from my homeland. I love it as much as you love your tree."

      Ariadne looked at him doubtfully, the hostility lifting from her face, but it was still there. "I'm going to tell Garland of what you did."

      "Ariadne, what's your greatest wish?" he suddenly asked.

      "What do you wanna know for?"

      "So that I may grant it to you."

      She laughed mockingly. "You? You're just a Medicham. And a weak one at that, too, I mean look at you. Do you even lift?"

      He straightened his posture, his smile flickering a bit. "I am the CEO of Flogistron Company."

      "What of Flo-what?"

      Achilles sighed, somewhat frustrated. "It's a fuel company, haven't you heard of it? I'm one step below the Trade Prince."

      She huffed with contempt. "So you're just some rich guy who likes to trample on nature like that," she said scornfully. Her look was like poison to Achilles. His greatest power, wealth, meant nothing to the Otori. This girl had grown up in the forest, in the tribe where the only form of trade was fruits and food. They scorned the coin.

      "On the contrary, I'm a fan of nature. I have even done charitable deeds." He paused. "I could take you places you've never been before," he said in his hushed tone.

      "So, is this a bribe? You're taking me places and I won't tell my bro that you just defiled our tree?" she laughed sarcastically.

      Achilles's lipless mouth became a tight line. His pale, blue eyes stuck onto her, seeing through. He was thinking fast, and he knew the way to salvation was near. "You're fan of exploration."

      "How'd you know?" she questioned immediately.

      "Are you?"

      "Yes, I am."

      "There are schools for archaeology and exploration in Union City, but there are none out here."

      Her expression didn't change at all. But she didn't speak either. She was hiding something. Bingo, Achilles thought. He wasn't wrong about her. He grabbed the chance. "Sounds like a deal. I will take you with me back to Union City, and you won't tell a word of this to Garland."

      "I didn't say yes."

      "Your eyes said yes, sweetling. My job requires me to see things in people, so that I may hire the worthy and dismiss the useless. I do this every day."

      "Whatever." She settled down. "I'm giving you this one chance to redeem yourself. But. Don't think that means I forgive you for what you've done here."

      Achilles smiled and nodded, as if he hadn't heard what she'd just said. He extended his arm, offering the fruit. "Apple?"



      *** Open Blue OOC ***
      Old March 27th, 2014 (11:05 PM).
      Mana's Avatar
      Mana Mana is offline
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      It's the last day, final chances guys!
      Old March 29th, 2014 (4:11 AM).
      Retro Bug Retro Bug is offline
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      Here's my RATED M AU fic based off of Atlantis Awakening and my newest character, Marwa Al Thani. Many of the characters mentioned are not of my creation and belong to my fellow roleplayers! In Atlantis there is ton of "shipping" going on and this features some of my favorites (because why the hell not?) Also, I threw in a couple references to some of my favorite TV Shows. Enjoy!




      Life a week ago for Marwa had been quite simple, she attended school, played basketball, and participated in the Writers Club on days when she didn't have basketball practice. Repetitive? Yes, but ultimately it was a schedule she had grown accustomed to. All of this was before her father thought to uproot his business and move it to America and Marwa, being his youngest daughter and only children still at home, was forced to come along. Shipped off, well, technically they flew, from Qatar to the middle of nowhere, America. Twenty minutes prior to school starting was when her father decided it was the best time to wake her up. Twenty minutes. Not an hour, not forty-five minutes, twenty. Any high school aged teenager knew to get ready on the first day of school required more than what Marwa had been given. There was barely enough time to pick out the perfect outfit let alone shower, brush her teeth, eat breakfast, and gather all her school supplies. Accomplishing only three of the four tasks, though Marwa would swear on her grave that all four had been done. Fixing her shayla was the last thing she did before heading downstairs. She wore a black dress and flats, the only accessory that made the cut was a necklace her mother had given her before she boarded the plane. Her father wasn’t one to stick around in the morning this was made clear by how he told her a driver would take her to and from school.

      A faint buzzing noise started as Marwa stepped out of the car with a backpack slung over one shoulder. She answered the call without checking the Caller ID, “Mom, I’m fine. Three calls is a little over-doing it for my first day.”

      The other two calls had been made during her twenty-minute countdown routine. A worried voice spoke in rapid Arabic, “I know, I know I’m just worried. Did you remember your supplies? You do have a habit of forgetting them…”

      To satiate her mother’s unwavering worry Marwa stopped in her tracks, placed her phone between her cheek and shoulder, and pulled forward her backpack to check. Several multi-colored notebooks, a calculator, and one of the required books for her English class were the only things inside. Her hand dug deeper into the bag searching for the most necessary item for a high schooler. A sigh was let lose, “Everything except a pen… Oh my god, how did I forget a pen?” Zipping up her backpack she put it on properly and continued on the pathway that led to the front doors of Atlantis High School.

      Forgetting to listen to the words her mother was speaking into her ear Marwa rushed to end the call, “Okay, okay, I gotta go, love you.” She hung the phone before her mother could speak another word, perhaps a bit harsh on her part. It wasn’t like her mother wasn’t going to call another twenty five times.

      The steps to the front door weren’t much of a spectacle. Railings lined both sides of the stairs and one in the middle, which Marwa never got the point of, but perhaps the reasoning would become clear later on. She pushed through the glass doors unsure she of where to go, as this was Marwa’s first time entering this building. Her father was the one that had registered her classes and done all the paperwork. Sudden pain flooded her shoulder area as she was pushed forward by a force that turned out to be some girl who had bumped into her, purposely it seemed by the smirk she flashed when she looked back at Marwa. This girl that engaged her wore all black, black shirt, leather jacket, skinny jeans, and ankle boots that had heels. A redheaded girl beside her hit her on the shoulder; a sign that Marwa took that she didn’t approve of her friend’s behavior yet wasn’t going to take action to stop it.

      “That’s Delta Mayor, her dad’s the mayor. Save the jokes though, I’ve already made them all,” The voice had startled an already shaken up Marwa. She looked at the girl who stood to her left who wore the biggest smile she had ever seen. “The girl next to her is Aoife Myrna, her family’s bad news. Y’know gangs, guns, violence, yada yada yada. Odd couple, right?” Her confusion must have registered on her face because the Asian girl laughed before speaking again, “Oh, yeah. Totes lesbians together, as if that wasn’t obvious, but apparently their parents don’t know it.”

      The girl turned to face her, which gave Marwa a better frontal view of the girl. She wore those shorts that intentionally had holes in them and a white tank top that was showing more than Marwa hoped to see. Marwa hadn’t noticed the sucker she had in her mouth and only did because the girl pushed the stick in and out repeatedly. The clothing choices seemed deliberately salacious, especially compared to what Marwa herself was wearing. “I’m Imogen, your Marwa, right? Principal Cooper sent me after you, he said you’d get lost.” Imogen hooked her arm onto hers and propelled both of them forward without another word after Marwa had managed an affirming nod to the question posed. A speechless Marwa was a bit at a lost she couldn’t stop because of the immense strength Imogen possessed. They entered an office where a woman sat out front behind a rather large desk who greeted Imogen with a nod and handed her a piece of paper.

      “Natalia, the secretary, she hardly speaks English I don’t know why she isn’t deported back to Mother Russia,” Imogen said while they were clearly in earshot of the women. Marwa had a feeling that Imogen never stopped talking and there wouldn’t even be a chance for her to speak up, not that she wanted to. Verbal communication kind of made her uneasy, especially since she spoke English with a particularly strong accent. Still arm-in-arm with Imogen as she looked over the paper instead of watching where they walked in the corridor, however, that didn’t seem to matter as everyone cleared a path wherever Imogen walked. An odd sight, indeed, was Imogen some sort of school royalty? “Look we have French class together, actually, my classes aren’t important I’ll just go to yours they seem like more fun.” Great, Marwa would have to deal with her all day then, fantastic.

      A sharp right led them into a classroom that was already full of students. The desks were arranged in five vertical columns. Two seats were opened one in front of the other. Cliché photography lined the walls, it was of rocks, the sun, trees, some of the picture was out of focus, and all of it them were taken at some crappy angle. Imogen dragged Marwa back towards the end of the aisle where the seats where located at, Imogen had first choice and chose the seat that lay behind the other.

      There was a man in a suit who stood at the front of the room, he cleared his throat and all the chatter stopped. With his eyes glued on her the man proceeded, “I believe we have a new student, Marwa Al Thani, did I pronounce that correctly, miss?” Every pair of eyes turned to face her and dissected her and her appearance in seconds. She swallowed before nodding. “Great! Please do your best to make her feel welcome.” The boy in front of her turned around and handed her a pen. Marwa smiled, took the pen, and thanked him. Seeing his brown eyes reminded her of her dog back home in Qatar, soft and gentle. Wait, how did he know she needed one?

      From behind her she heard a tsk-ing noise, “That’s Devon Bernot, his girlfriend is the blonde one, Oakley North. Rumor has it him and your dear friend miss Delta Mayor are knocking boots as well.” Marwa suspected this was the reason that Imogen sat directly behind her. Diagonal (to the right) from her sat the girl she assumed Imogen was speaking about, she was very focused on the teacher at the front of the room. Probably hadn’t noticed her boyfriend giving her the pen, hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem…

      “Rumor has it, Imogen, that you are knocking boots with Mr. Forsberg,” Marwa turned to her left to see a girl that belonged in the nearest photo shoot. Her lightly tanned skin was flawless; her brown hair cascaded down the front of her white dress. All of her seemed slightly angelic. She winked at Marwa and took the pencil she was chewing on out of her mouth to write something on the desk. “Though, that’s not much of a rumor, is it?” Once the girl moved her hand Marwa saw what she had written, a big heart and on the inside of it was “IG + AF 4EVR.”

      Imogen’s face flushed was with color, she wore a stunned look, but she was never speechless, “I would never touch Atti-Mr. Forsberg, Raguel!” She crumpled the piece of paper that was in front of her and threw it at Raguel who ducked in time for it to whiz pass her and hit someone else in the head. When that individual turned around and gave Imogen a dirty look she gave them a dirtier hand gesture. Marwa could only look on from her position, she had never been in the situations she found herself in today.

      “Is everything hunky dory back here?” The teacher had walked down the aisle uncrumpling the wad of paper, he read the top of the page before he raised an eyebrow and handed it Marwa. “I believe this belongs to you, Miss Al Thani.”

      Raguel had placed a hand over the heart and replied with a cool smile, “We’re good, brother.” She batted her eyelashes at the man who simply grinned in response before heading back to the front of the room. Marwa glanced up at the man then back at the girl, who Imogen had named as Raguel, then back to the teacher. It was doubtful anyone would’ve thought of them as siblings. Behind him ‘Mr. Franklyn’ was scrawled on the board in a manner that surprised Marwa that she could even translate it.

      Imogen hadn’t even bothered telling her what class she was in, but she soon found out that it was French. A language she had grew up speaking more so than English to impress her father. It was a quick class, they only went over verb tenses and a series of vocab words they were to know for the quiz at the end of the week. When class was over Imogen barged passed her, snatching her schedule from her fingers, and continued out the door, but not first without shooting Raguel a look that could kill. Perhaps this was her chance to slip the reins Imogen had placed on her, Marwa slowly put all her material into her backpack hoping the angered girl would get fed up and leave. A tactic that didn’t pan out in her favor because the next time she looked up the same death glare that had been aimed at Raguel was now focused squarely on her. All Marwa had at her disposal was a weak smile and that’s what she gave. Her next class was English and she was escorted there and the two classes after it.

      At the sound of the bell Marwa rose from her seat to go to lunch. A dull rumble came from her stomach signaling her hunger. As if she heard the noises Imogen grabbed Marwa's wrist until they reached the lunchroom. There was an upside to all this constant companionship, Marwa didn’t have to wonder where she would sit at lunch. Boy was she glad about that because the room was huge. There were at least ten or so tables, split evenly into two vertical columns. She was dragged through the lunch line, which they were granted by cutting the line a fact that Marwa wasn’t all too comfortable with. Where they sat their trays down already had three other people: Adaeze (TUA, The Untrimmed African, in Imogen’s words.), Roxana (Feisty Felicia, once again Imogen’s words), and to add some testosterone, Seamus (Creepazoid, if it wasn’t obvious Imogen had said this as well.) They had all greeted her with smiles, laughter, and handshakes.

      “Have you made any friends besides us?” Adaeze inquired while digging into what seemed like mystery meat, which only proved her bravery.

      “Delta,” Imogen chimed in, something she had made a habit of doing. Everyone at the table made a face or groaned, Adaeze gave two thumbs down. She was certainly a person Marwa was going to stay far away from given their first encounter. “Adaeze and Delta are lesbian rivals,” Imogen pointed her fork to where Delta was sitting next to Aoife and across from Oakley and Devon along with a couple of unfamiliar faces. Earlier when she had informed Marwa of Adaeze’s sexual identity she had mentioned her and Roxana were an off and on thing, more off than on. All of this… unmoral behavior was an adjustment. Even Seamus had a tendency to talk about the occasional guy, he was currently crushing on Adrian, a football player that had a girlfriend. She had never met people that were so free and open about that kind of lifestyle, it was all pretty weird and uncharted territory.

      The bickering between Adaeze, Imogen, and Roxana had died down by the time Marwa's thoughts had cleared away, “How did you guys become friends?” Their eyes widen, they seemed shocked to hear Marwa’s voice.

      “I threw my pie for them,” Roxana said proudly in a Hispanic accent Marwa couldn’t quite place.

      A laugh came from Marwa that was probably the strangest thing without context she had heard all day and Imogen had told her a lot of strange things today. Apparently, Roxana had grown sick of Delta’s taunts and one day threw a piece of pie right at her head. Most of it missed, but enough hit that it caused uproars of laughter.

      “Imogen and I grew up together,” Seamus stated and took a bite out of his sandwich; he wasn’t taking the risk on what school lunch did to someone’s stomach. “When Adaeze moved to town last year I asked her to prom, turn’s out Roxana beat me to the punch line. Then the pie situation and we all came together, now we have you.” He ate the rest of his sandwich and started on an apple that he had been tossing in the air.

      Lunch ended after their conversation turned from friendship to after school activities. Seamus was hanging out with Adrian, apparently they played video games quite frequently; unfortunately for Seamus it never crossed that line. Adaeze had her brother’s birthday dinner to attend with Roxana. Imogen? Imogen failed to disclose what she was doing only that they would hear about it tomorrow, which worried Marwa. They all went their separate ways for the next class period, in fact they all had last period together, an elective called Atlantean History. Marwa sat through Chemistry, Creative Writing, and Foods 1, of course, with her newest friend in tow. Eventually it was final period where they met up with Seamus, Adaeze, and Roxana not to mention Delta and Devon. Along with a vast amount of faces Imogen had attached names to but Marwa had forgotten them well within five seconds of being told.

      Entering the classroom felt eerily similar and that was because it was the same classroom she was in earlier. Except the same tacky photos that hung on the wall had been replaced with paintings. All the desks were arranged in a different fashion, instead columns it was a semi-circle that looked more like a crescent moon. The same man, Mr. Franklyn, stood at the front of the classroom. The cursive behind him read 'Mr. Henri' this time. He wore a plain white button-up shirt instead of the suit, what was going on?

      “What’s going on?” Marwa asked genuinely confused.

      “Oh, Mr. Franklyn is certified crazy,” Imogen replied with looking up from her phone, she chewed (smacked was a better word) on gum. “He changes his name every other class period along with the arrangement of the desk, and the art in the room.” She blew a bubble and popped it.

      Americans were certainly willing to let anyone teach their schools perhaps that’s why their education system was so terrible. Marwa sat in her same seat and Imogen in hers, yet this time Adaeze sat to the left of her, Seamus to the right, and Roxana directly behind Adaeze. Devon was in front of her and Delta had replaced Oakley. A fashionable guy sat to the right of Imogen, she had only briefly looked at his clothing twice but his scarf was to die for.

      “Please don’t tell me you’re interested in him?” Marwa had turned to face Adaeze and Roxana and she hadn’t seen Imogen look up once, how had she seen where Marwa looked? “His, Dom’s, love life is crazy complicated. He was with that idiot Thayne, now he’s dating Nate who used to date James who is currently rebounding with Nora who is sleeping with half the football team including Adrian.” Yikes, did this school have any students that weren’t involved with one another? Marwa made a mental note to check any crush with Imogen before ever thinking about wanting more from them.

      Mr. Henri clapped his hands to get the attention of his students, a different tactic from Mr. Franklyn she noticed. The lesson started with an overview of what Atlantis was and the myths surrounding it. All of it was actually fascinating, especially the side comments Seamus and Imogen bounced off one another. She was blown away by how many questions Adaeze knew the answer to she was an Atlantis whiz. If they ever had a trivia game Marwa wanted to be on her team. A kid that someone would most likely label a ‘stoner’ also spoke up except he kept challenging each answer trying to give a philological view and/or reasoning. It was all very laughable and at the very least they wasted five minutes of everyone’s time each time. According to Imogen this was the James in all his glory.

      Unexpectedly the bell rang, it was the end of school. Marwa had made it through her first day of school thanks to Imogen tagging along and she had even happened to make a few friends because of it. The pen felt odd to put away for some reason and that's when it dawned that it wasn't hers. Swiftly her eyes scanned the room and Devon wasn't in sight. Throwing her backpack over one shoulder she rushed out of the classroom without saying goodbye to those newfound friends and instead was navigating the hallway crowded with students. The after school rush was in full effect and Marwa knew she would never find Devon. She did spot a tall girl dressed from head to toe in black. Praying this would turn out without her being injured she surged through the vast amount of people until she reached Delta who was in Devon's company.

      “I believe this is yours,” Marwa handed the pen back to Devon ignoring the glare she was receiving in full force from Delta, "I'm sorry I kept it all day."

      "Don't worry about it," Devon said stifling a yawn and took the pen and shoved it one of his jean pockets. "Y'know Imogen's not the greatest person to hang around, sit with us at lunch tomorrow. We'll show you how the better half lives," Devon stuffed his backpack into the locker that was opened and shut it. He nodded once more and took off with Delta who didn't seem like a happy camper because of the invite that had been extended to Marwa.

      From there she made her way to the car that had dropped her off this morning. Today had been quite the journey, but Marwa knew it was only the beginning of a long school year here at Atlantis High School.

      "I'm ready for a nap..."

      The Meta Journey
      Old March 29th, 2014 (5:02 AM).
      Skymin's Avatar
      Skymin Skymin is offline
      part time demon hunter
      • Crystal Tier
      Join Date: Sep 2006
      Location: AU
      Age: 24
      Nature: Quirky
      Posts: 5,134
      And now as I head off to bed, the RP Challenge for this month draws to a close. Thanks to all who participated! I'll send off stuff to the judges when I get home from work tomorrow.

      In the meantime, if you have a last minute entry you would like to submit between now and when we post the results, please, let me know! I would be happy to add you to the criteria. :)
      art blogreblog blogavatar by me
      i can draw your character → commission info
      Old April 15th, 2014 (5:57 AM).
      Skymin's Avatar
      Skymin Skymin is offline
      part time demon hunter
      • Crystal Tier
      Join Date: Sep 2006
      Location: AU
      Age: 24
      Nature: Quirky
      Posts: 5,134
      Winner of RPChallenge - March

      Prizes: Congratulatory Emblem, one-time HTML usertitle

      Please PM me for more details about your usertitle. Participants will recieve a PM shortly with their scores and critique and comments!

      Sorry I took so long getting this all together. d: But here you are! This month's RPC may or may not happen depending on time, but we should see a return shortly!
      art blogreblog blogavatar by me
      i can draw your character → commission info
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