Open RP post!

[inasmithsyard]

I will add prompts or scenarios in comments, or feel free to come up with your own!

Currently up for grabs characters:

Rosie
Spindle's End
inasmithsyard

Rosethorn
Circle of Magic
earthandpine

Briar
Circle of Magic
thornandmoss

Hadand
Inda
deheldegarthe

Charity
Dresden Files
charityandfaith

Molly (Rag Lady)
Dresden Files
veiledthreat

Karrin
Dresden Files
isgoodpeople

Maggie
Newsflesh
talesuntold

Chouji
Naruto
16autumnroad

Neville
Harry Potter
mimbletone

Rue
Hunger Games
daisiesguardyou

Kitten
Tortall
skysung

Table created with accio.nu's icon table(less) generator

Comments

Molly Carpenter, shortly before Ghost Story

[veiledthreat]

Molly slipped through poorly lit alleys of one of the worse parts of Chicago, leaning on her cane as she walked. The town was hers now. Hers to protect, even if she wasn't so good as a protector. After all, she was only doing the job because someone she'd wanted to protect... "No," she said softly, her voice rasping slightly from the cold and disuse. "No, not now, don't think about it, keep moving. They'll come soon. They were here last night, they'll be back."

Talking was almost as bad an idea as thinking, considering the whole they'll be back part of her musings, and Molly clamped her mouth shut. She was tightly wound and waiting more for enemies than for friends. When it came down to it, right now it might be safer to see enemies than friends. She took a deep, steadying breath, inhale, exhale, and settled in to wait.

Anyone with bad intentions would be expected. Anyone with good intentions would be a surprise. Molly's grip on her cane tightened, and with more deep breaths, she summoned the patience to wait as long as needed. That's what all the layers were for, after all. She was bundled up safe from the cold. The Ragged Lady would guard the city tonight. No one else was here to do it. Not that she'd seen. Not in months. No one's shadow was big enough to keep the other dark things away.

[hillbillyhexer]

Molly wasn't entirely correct in the belief that a shadow couldn't keep the dark at bay. There were circles where the mere mention of a certain man's shadow, the barest whisper of even his name, would keep those dark things looking over their shoulder for the boogeyman.

And that man's shadow is precisely what Molly Carpenter found herself looking at as she comes around a corner. The figure of a stocky old man leaning on a carved oak staff, looking right at her, almost like he'd been waiting.

"Miss Carpenter, I presume," Ebenezar McCoy drawled, his accent thick, almost out of place in the inner city of Chicago.

[veiledthreat]

Molly stumbled backward a few steps, nearly tripping over her cane and quite clearly panicked. The look in her eyes as her mind raced was reminiscent of nothing so much as a trapped animal. "Warden Ramirez looked for me on the Council's orders. He did look," she didn't want Carlos to meet the same fate she expected, "but I stayed veiled while he was in the city, and my allies didn't give me away. He couldn't stay long." Any mental instability that was an act, feigned among her former friends and allies rather than real in the aftermath of Chichen Itza and her mentor's death, had dropped away the instant she saw Ebenezar. She had to seem sane. Safe. Crazy wizards were executed before they could do real harm.

Molly was fairly certain she'd be executed anyway. With Harry gone, who was there to vouch for her? No one else on the White Council cared so much for her family that they'd put their own lives on the line for her. The Doom of Damocles hung over her and anyone brave enough to come to her defense.

"Are you here to take me into custody?" she asked, a tremor in her voice as she braced herself for the answer. All Molly's muscles tightened, ready to bolt. Maybe with her best veils, she'd stand some infinitesimal chance of escape. Not even a percent. She considered the man in front of her. Nowhere near it. Some very, very, very tiny fraction of a percent. Not zero, though. One of the things she'd learned from Harry was that any chance, however small, was better than none. Not zero was good. Not zero, she'd work with. It was all she had.

Charity

[notworthless]

Navigating the... what did he call it, Neverland? Well, the other place, it wasn't like trying to read a street map. Unless your street maps were normally drawn by Escher. It took Callie four tries to end up in the right Chicago suburb (most of the suburbs she found were not Chicago), but the rather streetworn girl eventually found a small house with a white picket fence. And it felt distinctly different from the other houses on the street.

Not just that the yard was somehow perfect, or that it was just nicer than the other houses, it just felt... stronger. And her knack for knowing where not to open up paths was making it very clear this place was distinctly nicer than most everywhere else she's been. Definitely nicer than all her foster homes. The new one Jude's in seems pretty good, it almost felt this nice. Callie rubbed her hand over her nose and mouth as she walked up to the front door, and knocked.

She honestly had no idea why she was sent by a wizard all the way here for a safe place, but that's what the old man and the younger full of himself guy said to send her. She tried to stay calm, put on her steady stone facade, but in spite of herself small cracks started to form on the porch and in the air around her.

[charityandfaith]

Charity didn't want to invite trouble into her home. She knew that would follow uncontrolled magical power, even if the Carpenters' threshold was easily strong enough to prevent it inside the house itself. In spite of this, a single quiet word from Michael had been enough of a reminder to lay aside her worries for her own children and think about the one being sent to her. Really, there was never a chance of Charity saying no when Warden Ramirez, a friend of Harry's, called them to ask for a favor.

Opening the door, Charity summoned up a smile for the girl outside, not missing the fact that she looked a bit worse for wear. "You must be Callie. They told me you'd be arriving this afternoon. I'm Charity Carpenter. Why don't you come in? We'll get you lunch if you're hungry, and then a quick tour of the house before everyone else gets home from school and things descend into chaos." Charity's house was seldom the bad kind of chaos, but there was only so much order that could be imposed on the number of children they had, even by her.

She noted Callie's apparent lack of worldly possessions. No matter. There were enough children in the Carpenter house that hand-me-downs were bound to be available in her size until they figured something out. Molly or Alicia could share for a little while.

The inside of the Carpenter house was just what you'd expect from the yard and white picket fence. Well made and neat, but full of family photos, bits of childish artwork, and obvious evidence that the house had been lived in. "My husband Michael wanted to be here to greet you, but he had to work today. He'll be home for dinner."

[notworthless]

Callie's eyes were guarded as she looked into the house. Another door, another home that wasn't her's. She hesitated a few moments as she tried to keep the walls of reality from crumbling on the doorstep, realizing that the whole point was inside she'd be less likely to do this, and walked briskly in.

"Not sure how they could be sure. I think I ended up in Russia on my way here." She definitely ended up in Vegas, but that was a wrong turn. She had to backtrack through Washington state and... when did she become okay with this?

At least the cracks on the porch closed up when she stepped into the house. And there weren't any new ones forming. Yet. "Chaos? Does it involve more people in robes?" Between being taken in by freaks in robes who were part of a crazy cult, and different cultists in different creepy robes, then men in grey robes rescuing her from the second set. She was getting really tired of this. She could do with a dose of normal, at least for five minutes.

...But this house was a bit too normal, in retrospect. Like home, her home with... people she gave up or lost. To protect the only family she had left she had to leave the state. "Guess I'll meet everyone later, I'd ask where to put my stuff but there was a thing about the size of a bus? I didn't want to argue with it when he took my stuff."

Hadand | for Teleios voicetests

[deheldegarthe]

Hadand, ever practical and responsible, is in the kitchens as she is every day. Some things, she is very skilled at. Anything involving chopping, for instance; Hadand has a knack with knives. And she's figured out how to make almost all of the foods she grew up with. Even in the royal family, Marlovans ate very simply.

Today, however, the gaps in her knowledge are especially evident. Upon entering the kitchen, everyone will be treated to the smell and sight of smoke pouring from the toaster. It was obviously set too high.

She's eaten untoasted bread since arriving, and bread toasted over a fire up until then. Appliances have been an entirely new experience. Rather than panicking, Hadand frowns at the toaster and tries to fish the now blackened bread out of it.

[kneesandtoes]

By now, Celty has gotten...well, about as used to things as she figures she's going to be. This still isn't home, but it's where she is and what she's got. She'd like to think the others are something resembling used to her by now, too, but she's well aware that between her ever-present helmet and her overuse of the bracelet's telepathy in lieu of actually speaking aloud to the people around her make for good mystery and poor trust. That, at least, is nothing new.

It took her some time to find her footing working in the kitchens, but she has a knack for good cooking—or so she's been told, anyway—and the kitchen isn't uncomfortable.

When it's not full of smoke, anyway.

Celty makes a beeline for the toaster and yanks the cord from the outlet as soon as it's in reach. Y'know, like a reasonable person.

With the threat of the kitchen catching on fire extinguished, she whirls around to Hadand—prodding unhappily at a smoking toaster is not the correct response. She sends a telepathic, What happened?!

[deheldegarthe]

It's true that the motorcycle helmet has become a familiar enough sight around the temple, but Hadand does find it hard to fully give her trust to anyone unwilling to share face or voice, or reasons for hiding them.

"I must have set the temperature too high," Hadand answers, still much more calmly than Celty seems. "I apologize for the smoke. We haven't any devices like this where I come from, and I had yet to use this one."

She's gotten used to the stove and oven at least, and the fridgerator (as Nadia called it during her tour of the kitchen).

Rosie | canon or any AU with horses (Tell me what you want!)

[inasmithsyard]

Her apprenticeship came as a relief to Rosie. Even if she knew Narl well enough to know he'd never offer it like something to appease an upset child, the timing of it was a reminder that he knew her just as well. Rosie spent plenty of time at the forge growing up, but for the past several months she's spent all her days there, letting the taciturn smith she befriended as a child teach her everything he knows about horse doctoring. She was his first apprentice for anything but metalwork.

She spent her morning working with one of the lord's riding horses, and now Rosie doesn't look up when someone enters the yard, her attention still focused on the mare in front of her.

"Rosie," says Narl to get her attention. Sometimes it comes as a surprise when Narl speaks, she's so used to companionable silence or filling it all up with her own words as he listens silently. Her gaze goes not to Narl but to the newcomer. Her master wouldn't refer anyone to Rosie unless they were a visiting friend or had a horse who needed tending.

Karrin Murphy | post-Proven Guilty

[isgoodpeople]

Most of the precinct has been giving the former head of Special Investigations a very wide berth in the past couple months. Karrin didn't take well to losing her command, even if she has no regrets about saving the Carpenter girl. If she'd kept her rank but let a teen die? No, Karrin couldn't have lived with that.

All the same, she's downright hostile to most non-S.I. cops if they seek her out. The tiny blonde is the terror of the gym and shooting range, with her aikido black belt and all her marksmanship trophies.

Karrin still has a kind word for any of her own division, checking in with them while trying not to overstep any boundaries now that the place isn't hers to run. She's just finished lifting weights when she sees S.I.'s newest member across the gym. He's probably heard at least a little about what happened with Karrin, disappearing for 24 hours during an ongoing investigation, and clearly he's no stranger to disgrace if he wound up an S.I. cop so young. She hasn't gotten to know him well enough yet to get a feel for whether it was incompetence, inexplicable encounters with the supernatural, or just plain bad luck that got him landed in Special Investigations. They are, after all, the banishing ground for anyone whose career has taken a turn for the worse.

She smiles as she approaches, drawing raised eyebrows from one or two of the men subjected to her temper in the last week. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" she offers. Tea or anything else can be substituted, of course, but Karrin defaults to coffee.

[sponsorigami]

Despite the others giving Karrin lots of space, Ivan doesn't treat her any different. She may not be in command of him, but she is still his superior. Everyone is in Ivan's eyes. So when she asks him about coffee, he's taken back for that reason rather than her loss of rank.

"Eh?" Ivan looks up from the dummy he has been chucking shuriken at for the past hour or so. He barely keeps the one from his fingers from flying out of them, but if it had, it would have landed safely on the dummy. His aim has been improving since he was sent to S.I. There were so many reasons for the motivation. He's not quite at bulls-eye accuracy, but he hits the target now. Instead of every place around it. "Oh, um. Sure..."

He goes for a towel resting on his bag to wipe his face down. It's time for a break anyways.

[isgoodpeople]

"I think you're the only person in the precinct who's ever used those," she remarks. "Any other martial arts you're good at?" Karrin does much more of her training in a dojo than here at the station gym. She doesn't think the shuriken are a bad idea. Not for an S.I. cop. Steel is always handy to have around faeries, for instance, as Karrin knows full well. That investigation she disappeared during? She was off in the Nevernever saving a girl who'd been taken by the Sidhe. If Ivan wants to carry shuriken, far be it from Karrin to stop him, even if she did have the authority to do that anymore. No one will complain as long as the non-regulation weapons don't find their way into anyone human.

She gestures with a nod of her head. "Come on, let's go see if there's anything drinkable upstairs." If not, there's always the coffee shop across the street.

Hadand | AU-squared verse: provisional security officer, Federation Starship Voyager

[deheldegarthe]

After B'Elanna and her Engineering crew finally manage to rig an appropriate containment field for Sky's quarters, they bring the living anti-Borg weapon aboard. Hadand has more experience working with and training children, though in her case it was usually teens, than most of Tuvok's staff. She has no objections to the assignment when he sends her as security detail. As soon as Sky is aboard, Hadand is already waiting with a smile and something to eat. (From her replicator rations rather than Neelix's cooking. They'll save that dubious pleasure for later.)

"Hello, Sky. I'm Hadand. I'll be keeping you company for awhile, and you can ask me any questions you have."

[creepyfreezone]

Sky's life was full of new things. First there were people, people were new. Then there was the sky, the ground, and outside. There was meditation and focus and logic. And now there was a ship, the most interesting of all. It felt alive, every wall pulsed with energy. The air buzzed with the warp field of the ship, and this was new.

"Why can't I feel the warp field in this room? Did we stop?" Sky crossed her arms. It was strange, she could feel another energy along the walls, but it wasn't as interesting as the energy she felt in other parts of the ship.

[deheldegarthe]

She has no intention of ever lying to her charge. Hadand answers honestly, "No, we didn't stop. This room, your room, has a containment field around it, because your abilities might interfere with the ship's operations until you get them under control. That's what Lieutenant Tuvok will help you with. As soon as you have more control, you can go anywhere you'd like on the ship. For now, we need you to stay here. Is that alright with you?"

Hadand can also teach her something akin to meditation, but movement-based, if Sky is interested. Going through Odni forms does calm the mind, once they've been learned well enough to be a part of habitual muscle memory.

Briar

[anythingwithstrings]

Song magic, by and large, required intent to make happen. If not in using your power, but in crafting the tune, lyrics, and notes into the shape you wanted. Very few things in Maya's repertoire could just happen without her designs to shape what she wanted.

Except of course for waking up screaming, somehow she could do that in a way to cause every bell, chime, and crystal glass within a few meters to her singing in tandem to her distress. It was the same dream, mostly the same, who graced her dream varied but what happened didn't. They were always throwing themselves off a roof, they were always someone she cared about, and when she tried to sing a spell to save them her voice would vanish. When she tried to play them to safety her strings would snap.

She quickly whistled three notes and the bells all stopped their ruckus. Maya held her face in her hands and wiped away the tears she didn't notice in all her waking up and screaming. "Cam..."

[thornandmoss]

Briar hated the sound of bells.

He woke up half-panicked, shoving himself to sitting immediately, his breathing and heart rate rapid. Briar reached tendrils of his magic for the hemp ties that kept his wrist knives in place, but of course, they weren't there. He wasn't wearing anything.

There was a reason he didn't stay on temple grounds even for a visit after getting home from Gyongxe. He just couldn't stomach the sound of temple bells, especially not when he was sleeping and couldn't logic his way past flashbacks and hallucinations. Everything smelled like smoke now, even though he couldn't see flames or billowing clouds of it. Not even a wisp. It took a minute to figure out where he was, to identify the bells both by tone and the sight of them as not temple bells, and to turn his attention to the person who had made them ring.

That was an awfully familiar awakening, though if it happened often she should probably ward her bed before she slept. Losing control of her magic could do a lot worse. And had she said something? ....Cam. Not a place, at least not one Briar had ever heard of. A person?

"Maya," he said softly, not reaching a hand out for her because he knew that might make things worse. Briar just accompanied her name with a sympathetic look, one that he hoped wouldn't be interpreted as pity.

[anythingwithstrings]

"...Sorry." It didn't feel heartfelt, she lacked energy to really sell the word. She could feel that Briar didn't appreciate being woken up by everything screaming in tune with her. Responding to her anxious heart in kind. She hugged the sheet around herself and took leveled, steadying breaths. A tune formed in her head, something soothing like a lullaby.

It wasn't magic, she had to make noise to work her gift. And even then she couldn't sing herself to sleep. That wasn't how her magic worked. "I'm fine, you can go back to sleep. I'll get back to sleep in a minute."

She didn't have the energy for that lie either. Further evidence being when she fumbled for her glasses on the bedside table. Sent a message she didn't think she could sleep anymore, not without visits from her past.

Rue - Impulsive ideas are a Chandra thing, so I'm not very sorry.

[fistlogic]

Chandra was getting used to this walking thing, apparently the Keral Keep monks were founded by a planeswalker. And so once she felt ready she started going new places. Never for very long, usually because the locals found her logic a bit undesirable, but every other week or so she was off on a new world.

This one was very green. But the local wildlife seemed intent to kill her. They were very flamable, which was a point in Chandra's favor. Then even the locals were rude and tried to kill her. Talking about games and tributes and, okay, Chandra didn't really listen as they were all busy pointing weapons and saying they would kill her. Apparently it was a game where the winners survived, she'd be good at that.

So she set them on fire too. They seemed very surprised, like they have never seen a pyromancer before.

She ended up in the woods, surprised she hadn't run into any authority figures trying to stop her. They usually showed up by now. Looking up into the treetops, in case anything was up... Like a little girl pretending to be a lemur. "Look, if you're going to try and kill me, can we do that first without the boring talking parts?"

To make sure the other girl knew how much of a mistake this was... Chandra's right hand turned into flame, up to her elbow. You know, control, or whatever.

[daisiesguardyou]

Rue had made it to the woods, and she was doing well at staying out of sight. She knew it couldn't last. Her chances were small enough, and that was without the Gamemakers interfering to make the Games more interesting.

It took an effort of will not to bolt like a startled squirrel when someone appeared below her. To Rue's short-lived relief, not a single leaf rustled. Then her heart sank just as quickly as Chandra looked up. "You're not a tribu--" Rue began, but visibly flinched at the fire.

Not a tribute, strange abilities. A Capitol trick. A fire muttation. Rue's voice shook. "The Gamemakers sent you to kill me."

Maggie. She's not on the list but you said I could so there XD also, teleios-verse

[rejoined]

Hey, are you busy? I found something today that I think you might want to see.

[ guess who woke up to an unending mug of raktajino? this girl. ]

Hang the list, and hang the rules. They're more like guidelines anyway.

[talesuntold]

I'm sure I can find the time for you, Jadzia. My room or yours?

[Guess who's still up for harmless friendly flirting? Yeah, this guess is just as easy as the last one.]

[anythingwithstrings]

The first thing Briar might notice when he gets home is that his window is open. It is worth noting that his plants do not seem to too worried someone is in the house, whatever happened they are more than content to be plants, happy plants who are being excessively growy right now.

The first thing Briar might notice in his room is the trail of blood along the floor, from the window to a corner, with a girl. A girl who is definitely not wearing pants.

Okay, that isn't fair, she has shreds of what were pants, and her vest, but whatever fight Maya had gotten into she did not win. She had burns, and slashes, along one side of her body. No single wound was bad, but together... how she managed to get to the house is anyone's guess. She had the striker of a bell gripped between her teeth, as she tried to (awkwardly) bandage herself up. The striker was obviously a bit of magic, but what it was doing was anyone's guess. Maya's powers worked through sound and music, but bells were one of her favorite ways to store a spell.

Once she notices Briar she'll greet him with a slight grunt and, "I hope your sister's aren't home, this isn't really how I envisioned meeting them. Although my nightmares I didn't have pants..."

Maya is trying to be cute to cover up how terrified she is. Because she found trouble. Again.

[thornandmoss]

When he sees the open window, Briar heads for that rather than the door. He's sure he left it shut. A tiny tendril of magic, and the knives tied at each of his wrists with hemp cords are free to drop down into his hands. Briar is through the window in one swift, silent movement, confused by the lack of alarm his plants are sounding in his mind. But then he sees who's waiting for him.

"Ordinarily, finding a pretty girl in my room without pants would be a nice surprise," Briar quips, but he's already heading for his kit. "Put the bandage down, let me get burn salve and infection preventers on you first. Then I'll wrap you up. You want something for the pain?"

He has a feeling Maya would turn down anything strong, but reinforced willow, maybe...

"If they were, they'd've noticed somebody coming in uninvited." Maya's lucky on that front. If Briar weren't the first one home, she'd already have met his sisters. "Only Tris will be home tonight, but she'll probably hear a girl's voice and then send her breezes the other way so she doesn't overhear anything she won't want to."

And besides, Tris is gentlest with people when they need help. There are worse ways for Maya to meet her than injured.