boxofmatches | AU Call Me Out

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AU Call Me Out

【an ❝Alternate Universe❞ meme】
a roleplay meme to twist around muses.

refer to the list for muses.
post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line!
provide basic information in the post of what kind of AU it is
both of us hemorrhage excitement and brainstorming everywhere
the characters listed aren't all that's available - just ones I would particularly like to mess with. if you'd like to try someone else, consult my muselist here.

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[Ken's tired. They've been fighting for a long time tonight, and as they all settle in to their various resting areas, Ken plops down near Sayaka.]

[It's nice to have someone near his age in the group, really. He looks up at her and smiles tiredly.]

H... hey.

[If it were up to Sayaka, she would have kept pushing on for who knows how long - thankfully, she's not the one calling decisions. There's just something in her _{(up there, hiding-whispering in her head in a water-doppled voice)} that makes her not notice her own breath running ragged, or her own knees threatening to buckle. When a halt was called, she stopped in place to wait for the rhapsody to wind down. Her suppressed fatigue drained into her from her shoulders first, snaking down her body like rivulets. She sits down.

Sayaka's in the midst of rubbing a sore wrist when Ken's appeared beside her, and she returns his smile with her usual forced energy.]

Hey there, stranger! Decided my part of the floor looked comfier?

Something like that.

[Even though he's exhausted, he summons Nemesis with a pull of the trigger, letting her heal Sayaka before disappearing.]

Be careful. You're going to push yourself too hard one of these days and get yourself seriously hurt.

[She catches on to what Ken's up to halfway through Nemesis' summon - and pouts at him. Oh, c'mon, she's not doing that bad!]

Aw, Ken. If I haven't went too far yet, I really don't think it's gonna happen.

It's fine. It's not like I wasn't going to rest later.

[Stop making him worry dammit. ;; ]

Siighhhh, okay. I'll let it go this time!

[Flippant handwave that's not really all that flippant.]

How do you think we did today, anyway? Uh. [She's not very good at paying attention when she's in 'the zone.'] I think you've got the better judgment than me.

Pretty good. We're making progress at clearing them out from around here.

... And we managed to grab a bunch of food too, so we shouldn't have to make another run to that area for a while.

FEEL FREE TO CALL ME OUT TOO CAUSE I SUCK

The problem with treating Changelings day in and day out, is that eventually you run out of some disgustingly rare reagent or other that some poor bastard needs their organs refilled with to live, and don't have the time to go fetch it yourself. And that's saying something - time's something he's learned to twist and wheedle at as well as any organism.

So he has to make deals, sometimes, and sometimes those deals force him to put up with characters he really rather wouldn't. Bratty Mages, in particular.

He wishes he'd never come in contact with the boy as a supplier; but fate seemed to engineer it to have happened.

It's a darkening evening at the Battery: the town's gone quiet, tourists slipping away to their lodgings and more permanent residents gone to their homes in the civilized spaces dotted throughout the marsh. The sound of the ocean is as ever-present here as breath through lungs. The salty air's never been kind to his stitches, but he's learned to live with it.

He strides under the trees with a strange sense of belonging to them - they're old things, alike to himself, immutable aspects of this painted-up town. The half pint should be around here somewhere...

More often than not the statue of the flag bearer was mercilessly swarmed by the usual flying rats. Pigeons drawn to the allure of careless tourist burdened with easily spill-able edibles. This evening, however, the only avian to give the stone solider company was a lone raven perched upon the sculpture’s outstretched hand.

It was a miserable looking creature. The scraggly kind of bird that more malicious children would throw rocks at. Something you would expect to see crushed on the side of the road in invitation for rot and maggots. Its head turned with a sharp bob in the doctor’s direction. Most people, normal people, would shudder and ignore it, brushing the creature off as sickly and to be avoided. The doctor should know better than that at this point, though. The creature was looking at him, watching the changeling approach with its beady eyes, hollow where wild spirit would be.

Edited 2013-03-15 10:21 (UTC)

And lo, here she was, the stupidest girl Jasmine knew.

As what had become routine, Jasmine brushed back one of her ashen blonde, loosely braided pigtails and dismissively adverted her glowing gaze to better inspect the lunch her mother had packed for her. Plucking up a neatly cut half of a turkey sandwich, she pretended to find a deep and spiritually-driven interest in the assembly of cooked bird, curdled milk, and yellow paste.

What she was really thinking about was how she couldn’t stand this girl. Ever since Jasmine had built up the tolerance, strength, and raw power of will to manage bothering to try returning to school, the two had found themselves coupled in the furthest corner of the flat, tabled, fenced-in roof that served as the school’s outside lunch room. They were essentially in a temporary social exile. Jasmine knew when she wasn’t wanted, that she was feared, but this girl? Apparently was too busy riding her divine mount high horse to realize that.

Blah blah justice, blah blah defeat evil, blah blah blaaahhh. Most of it was the sort of schlock she found she could deal with, but when the girl when on her biggest tirades, the /protection/ tirades, that’s when the words dug in a little too deep under her skin and made Jasmine lash out. Last time-which wasn’t too far away a time-they had actually come to blows, which was why the table looked brand new, the floor still had scorch marks, and her record and her body both had another red scar. Too bad for the school she was getting pretty used to red scars, huh?

Not that girl, of course. She looked as fresh and pretty as spring rain, especially with those lustrous, soft, blue hair and eyes of her that gave away the ethereal influence that warmly held her in its merciless vice grip. Warlock pact, Eladrin, Chaotic Good. Jasmine knew more than her grades currently reflected and the Arcane and the Planes were definitely some of her specialties. Even so, though she knew that all warlocks were in some constant state of being magically eaten alive, apparently it worked different depending on who was holding the other end of the supernatural leash. The mystery was, what was /she/ giving up/? Why did /she/ get off so easy? Why was some overly righteous, afterschool paladin still kicking it while others… wern’t .

Just thinking about it made her want to tear her skin off, but Jasmine settled for scratching under her sleeve at her newest scar.

Edited 2013-03-18 07:22 (UTC)

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AU Call Me Out

SAYAKAAAAAA

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OTL

Mage!Finnley

Play with the familuar for a while finnley's totes too busy doing dumb kid stuff/being elusive

AU age'd downished school lunch warlock! Jas and Sayaka