Game Changer

[MenaAthena]

"He'll be fine as long as the other end doesn't spit him out in the middle of the swamp." Wilson answered. "What I'm wondering is how a worm hole suddenly appeared near my camp. They've always remained stationary before."

 

(I hope you don't mind me doing this, Blew. If you want I can change it.)

Now that the hound was gone, Billy the tree felt it was ok to tell Newleaf about the strange black rabbit like creature that was injured and hiding behind him, so he did.

[Blewcheese]

(Yeah, it's fine. As long as Billy doesn't need a bio.)

 

Newleaf looked towards Billy the Tree and nodded. Using the grass to pinpoint the location of the mysterious rabbit, a few vines gently grasped it's ears, pulling it out from behind Billy.

[MenaAthena]

The strange rabbit creature scrapped it's feet on the ground, trying to resist the pull of the vines.

"What are you doing?! Let go of me!"

 

Athena and Wilson turned towards the somewhat familiar high pitched voice.

"It followed us?"

"It followed us..." Wilson echoed with a hint of irritation. 

Edited January 8, 2015 by MenaAthena

[Blewcheese]

"Fear not, little one." Newleaf's voice was rather gentle now. "I'll be sure you are not harmed. But... What are you? To the best of my knowledge, none of these humans are undergoing madness at the moment."

[MenaAthena]

(I hate that for some reason it'll just decide not to leave certain text colored. Does anyone else have that problem?)

 

"I am not little and I do not fear you nor anyone else!" the creature spoke with irritation before turning to a tone of pride. "You just be confusing me with one of the jackalopes, but I assure we are different creatures. Even though our appearances are similar we have different purposes. They are beneath me."

Edited January 8, 2015 by MenaAthena

[Blewcheese]

(I don't often color text, so not really.)

 

Newleaf chuckled. "Then why, might I ask, were you hiding?"

[wxps350]

Wakana went and grabbed his Tomahawk, and raised it up before turning back and staring at the Wormhole.

Edited January 8, 2015 by wxps350

[MenaAthena]

"I was hunting them, obviously. I have the girl with the necklace marked as my prey. I was waiting for an opportune moment to strike when you exposed me!"

Athena glanced over at Wakana, not seeming at all worried that Addomiddius had just confessed to planning to attack her. "You aren't actually planning on going in there after him, are you?"
"It's actually safer than you might think."
"Pardon?"
"I've actually been inside one of those before. It's not the most comfortable form of travel, but it's quick. The danger comes in not knowing where it will spit you out."

Edited January 8, 2015 by MenaAthena

[MenaAthena]

(dang it I can't edit on this device. *sigh*)

[Halved]

"It looks nasty..."

[Blewcheese]

"Hmm, apologies for disturbing your hunt. But I need these humans alive, at least for a little while. They've caused a new presence in the darkness from what I can tell..." Newleaf eyed the rabbit. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

[MenaAthena]

"It is quite repulsive." Wilson replied to Wy.

The corner of Addomiddius' mouth twiched up.

"I will refrain from killing any of the puppets. A new presence in the darkness? I wouldn't know unless it was myself, but I was not hunting them until early this day."

The best lies often have grains of truth, this was something Addomiddius knew well, thus he had no trouble telling this half truth convincingly. Even though he had a good idea of who it was, he didn't know for sure.

[wxps350]

Wakana:"I have to! Either I save Wulfric, or something eats me while I try..."

[Blewcheese]

Newleaf nodded, not suspecting a lie, for he didn't know the creatures of nature to tell him a mistruth. "Very well. Then perhaps if it returns, you could identify it."

[wxps350]

Wakana:"Well Wulfric never failed to be there when I needed something to gallop away from a big monster with me riding it...And Wulfric is carrying all my things."

[Halved]

"Could I help you save him?", Wy says to Wakana.

[wxps350]

Wakana:"Hmmm..... Okay!"

[Dara999]

{I LIVE}

Cypress kneeled beside the teethed hole in the ground, peering into it's depths. "You sure this leads somewhere? Looks like it just goes on forever..."

Wekesa's focus was on the small rabbit thing. It could be an easy meal: it was injured, it was small, it was defenceless, but it seemed to be a friend. She couldn't eat her friends, could she? Maybe she would see the reaction if she tried to eat it later.

[CloakofCrow]

(Sorry for interrupting, I don't have pm  )

 

Are there any openings for me?

 

[Quiet]

(You have to have more "Wekesa's thoughts" posts, Dana.  They're hilarious.)

 

Oxryklne continues to fly around aimlessly; he doesn't seem to be coming any closer to finding his companions.  "Hellooooo."  He says halfheartedly.

[MenaAthena]

(Sorry for interrupting, I don't have pm  )

 

Are there any openings for me?

(Post your character bio and I'll think about it.)

 

"It goes somewhere. I've used them for travel before."

Athena also looks down the mouth of the beast with a mixture of fear and curiosity. 

"I'll come too."

[wxps350]

Wakana:"Okay!"

 

Wakana turned back to the hole and crouched.

 

Wakana:"Tally ho, no idea where I'll go!"

 

Wakana then leapt into the wormhole.

 

Wakana:"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
 

Edited January 10, 2015 by wxps350

[CloakofCrow]

(Annnd BAM! Jonathan's final character sheet. The rest of his legacy is left to be discovered during roleplaying.)

 

Name: Jonathan Crow

 

Age: Early 20’s

 

Gender: Male

 

 

Backstory:

     Alone, with nothing but the ruins of the place he once lived. Isolated, with nothing but the bleak sea surrounding him. Detached, with nothing but the company of himself and the spirits of the dead that laid beneath him. This was the life of Jonathan Crow.

Fort Tenòche was quite a bustling town. Merchants and hunters sailing the sea found this place to be a safe-haven from the violent waters and unpredictable weather. It was located in the middle of the ocean, a midpoint between the cities of Anton and Drell. It’s high, thick walls protected it from any unwanted visitors and the old lighthouse guided them into the port so they can rest and sell their goods. This is where Jonathan lived. Jonathan had a pretty normal childhood; mocking the strange men that entered the fort, stealing various trinkets from vendors in the market, curiously peeking through the window at the bar to see the things all the grown-ups did, all parts of a normal kid’s life in Fort Tenòche. Sure, he got in trouble sometimes and got a beating for it, but he always had his parents if he was in any real danger.

 

     Jonathan had a healthy relationship with his parents and older brother. After a good day of fooling around, there was always dinner on the table for him. He admired his father and brother very much and he always aspired to be just like them. His brother, Alan, worked with his father most of the time at the docks. Carrying crates to and from the ships. At night, his father worked at a local bar and his brother occasionally worked the lighthouse shift. Very rarely, his brother let him accompany him at the lighthouse. This was Jonathan’s favorite thing to do because he was able to see all the ships and watch as they followed the light his brother controlled.

One rainy night, he snuck out to see if his brother was doing ok up in the lighthouse. He climbed all the way up the spiraling staircase to the top and finally saw his brother. “Alan?” Jonathan said in a small voice.

 

     His brother turned his head in surprise upon seeing the soaking wet little Jonathan and quickly threw a cigarette off the ledge, “Jonathan? What are you doing here? Surely mother didn’t let you go outside in this weather!” Jonathan stared at the ground nervously, “I snuck out to see if you were ok.” Alan studied Jonathan begrudgingly, picking him up and setting him down on a bench so he could see the ocean. “You should not have, but thank you for caring about me.” The rain started pouring harder and Jonathan gazed wearily at the sky.

 

     “It’s raining harder,” Jonathan stated.

 

     “Yup,” His brother remarked.

 

     “Do you think it’ll get worse?”

 

     “I hope not.”

 

Jonathan squinted his eyes at something in the distance,

 

     “What’s that?”

 

His brother positioned the light to see what he was talking about, fear struck his face.

 

     “Jonathan, go get father!”

 

Jonathan hesitated, “What is it?”

 

     “I said go! Hurry!”

 

     Jonathan stared at his brother with confusion in his eyes and realized he was being serious. He flew down the spiraling stairs as nimbly as he could, slipping half-way down and quickly getting back up. He sprinted through the muddy streets, ignoring the strange men as he blindly made his way to the bar where his father was working. A bell began clanging in the lighthouse moments before cannon shots boomed in the distant ocean. People groggily lumbered out their doors to see what was going on. Jonathan pushed through their bodies, running into his father right outside the bar. Out of breath, he spoke frantically.

 

          “A-ah-Alan, brother!”

 

His father lifted him up with ease, a calm look on his face. He brought Jonathan to their house,

          “Get mother and go to the storm shelter, we’ll meet you there eventually. Quick!”

 

     His father ran towards the lighthouse and another volley of cannon fire went off. He could hear the shots splash into the water outside the wall. Jonathan dashed inside and grabbed his mother, “Daddy wants us to go to the shelter! He’s getting brother!” His mother nodded and grasped his hand, hustling out the door and guiding him towards the shelter.

 

     Screams and cries began upon the third round of cannon fire. The walls around the north side of the Fort exploded violently, sending bricks and various other shrapnel careening in all different directions. His mother maneuvered him through the panicked streets to the storm shelter, which was rapidly getting crowded. Another round of cannon fire, houses and shops burst into flame. They squeezed into the shelter and the bell halted its desperate clamoring. Another boom, the lighthouse was stricken. Jonathan ripped his hand free from his mother’s tight grip and bolted between everyone’s legs towards the lighthouse. His mother tried to run after him, but a flood of distressed people impeded her passage.

 

     He arrived at the lighthouse and saw his father struggling to drag his brother away, his legs were mangled and he was bleeding profusely. Jonathan ran to his father’s aid and propped up his brother with his shoulder. More cannons, they crashed into the lighthouse again sending it crashing into the sea. His father limped; Jonathan saw a sharp piece of stone lodged in his leg, but he kept moving. A deafening whistle filled the skies; fiery blasts shook the earth around them, ravaging his father’s bar. Barely making any progress, his father gave out. He fell to the ground and put his rough hands to his face. Jonathan glanced at his brother and realized he had stopped breathing.

          

     Jonathan speculated the piteous look on his father’s face and back to his dead brother. Mortars fired again, the storm shelter crumbled to the ground and burning people frantically scattered out into the pouring rain like ants. Jonathan ran to his father and tears welled up in his eyes, “Bye daddy.” Jonathan scanned everywhere in the storm shelter but never saw his mother. Strangers lay burnt on the ground and suddenly they weren't so strange anymore. They shared the same fate he would he thought, and that is the closest he could get to them. Cannons razed everything around him, sending everything up in flames. He looked back towards his father and brother and saw them get blown away, shattering like a mirror. Jonathan crumbled to the ground in anguish, but quickly came to his senses and decided to go to his house. The building next to him was suddenly ripped apart, crashing into him and knocking him unconscious.

 

     Every once in a while he would regain consciousness, hearing gunshots and screams as whoever attacked the fort killed all survivors. Everything was dark.

          

     He awoke and saw nothing. He somehow lifted a large piece of rubble off of him and gradually stood up. It was morning and not a sound was to be heard. He milled about the obliterated town. The rain continued to lazily pour onto the ground, red streaks of blood flowed beneath his feet as he strolled to his house. He bumped through the door and sat at the table, no breakfast. He stared blankly into space and stood back up. This was the way he lived for days, ignoring the smell of rotting corpses. He ate what he could find lying around after almost starving to death. This was the way he lived for weeks, ignoring his brain’s attempts to try to make him think about his family. He threw rocks at the rats that attempted to get a meal out of the dead. This was the way he lived for months, until there was no more food left to eat. He threw the rocks harder so that he could get a meal from the rats. This is how Jonathan Crow survived for a whole year, eating rats and ignoring all the thoughts of his family. This was when he began to hear their voices.

     

     He heard the voices of the ones that died there. The spirits of the dead haunted him, entering his mind and poisoning his thoughts. They beckoned him to kill himself, said he wasn’t supposed to live. He ignored them the best he could, surely it wasn’t real. He only found peace at the roof of his old house.

 

 

Many years later…

 

     His grubby, soot covered coat pressed against the worn soggy bricks of the chimney as he leaned backward. The blazing hearth below warmed him slightly, counteracting the dreary coldness that seemed to constantly loom about. Lazy waves crashed against the jagged shore, chills trickling down his spine as the salty sea spray sprinkled across his face. It was peaceful. A thick sea of fog rolled in over the worn walls, shrouding the silent settlement. The whispering cloud ruffled his dirty black hair as it enveloped him with a tasteless, odorless cloak, separating him from reality. He closed his darkened eyes, listening as a soft tune began orchestrating within his troubled mind.

 

     He kept his eyes closed for what seemed like forever, trapped in the quiet fiction of his mind; but as the fog dissipated, reality began creeping in. The thought of the hundreds of people who had died on the grounds below him entered. The mellow song in his head melted into the frantic ring of the lighthouse and the deafening booms of cannons and mortars as they razed everything around him; the burning odor of gunpowder and blood poisoned his scent; soot and smoke choked his lungs; cuts and fire burned his skin; his father and brother running for cover; and explosion, searing pain, and darkness.

 

     He jolted up with a shout, quickly realizing he was still on the familiar roof. He cleared his throat and wiped the moisture from his eyes, sitting back down and staring through the thick fog into nothingness. This was the Cloak of Crow, the only place Jonathan could find peace from his own thoughts, and it happened to be a rift between the material world and the abyss. A demon saw its perfect victim. “Hello Jonathan.” 

 

 

Abilities:

 

Possessed: Jonathan is possessed by a powerful demon. It is bound to his soul and through that connection it can access the material world. Jonathan has an agreement with it: as long as he can supply the demon with souls, it will keep him alive and give him various “enhancements” improving his quality of life while making it easier to consume souls. Enhancements include: improved perception, hearing, reflexes, balance, and other basic things like that. Of course, these things are only available if Jonathan can supply the demon with souls. Enhancements are more powerful when Jonathan is insane, when having recently consumed a soul, and when nearing death; and less powerful when he’s sane or hasn't consumed a soul.

 

Schizophrenia: Jonathan hears voices in his head. The main voice he hears is the one of the demon that possesses him. It often times gives him advice and can sometimes help him if he’s conflicted with something. He can hear this voice at all times unless another voice in his head drowns it out. Oh, there are other voices too, and they aren’t so helpful. The other voices are from the souls of other people the demon has consumed and the voices of the dead from the fort. They berate him and generally are a nuisance. There are only certain ways to get rid of them depending on the person it used to be, proving a difficult mental challenge for him.

 

Demon Form: The demon within Jonathan wants to keep him alive; otherwise it would lose its only connection to the material world. Thus, upon imminent death or complete insanity, it will reveal its true form and prevent Jonathan from dying. It is a very rare and improbable thing to happen.

 

Cloak of Crow: A shroud of fog covers the area, enhancing his mental state of mind. It only happens when he is at peace from the voices in his head and its benefits/hindrances are unknown.

 

Drawing: 

Edited May 4, 2015 by CloakofCrow

[Halved]

Wy looks skeptically at the wormhole. Wakana jumped in without hesitation, so it has to be safe. And Wilson said he has already been in one.

He takes a deep breath and jumps in, following Wakana.

(You could have used that line to write something useful, Quiet.)

[MenaAthena]

Name: Jonathan, “The Crow”

 

Gender: Male

Age: Looks around 20-30 years old

Race: Human

 

Appearance: Crow is not the person who wants to be seen. He is tall with messy black hair. You would most likely see him with a few black feathers growing here and there. He usually looks dirty with rugged clothing and a somber expression

 

Abilities/Disabilities: If everything is calm, his schizophrenia kicks in, which either helps or harms him. He keeps his emotions to himself; this means when he loses sanity, he loses it all at once. As he becomes more insane, he grows feathers; at its worst he becomes a huge bestial flying monster. 

 

(Search: Howl’s moving castle bird creature. The ones without his face on it   )

If this happens (very rarely), he can eat through almost anything, fly, and claw with its talons. He will most likely run as far away from his friends as possible to avoid hurting them. When he regains his sanity, he keeps all wounds inflicted and is unconscious.

 

 

If there's anything you would like me to change just let me know. Thanks! (whew, that was a lot of writing!)

(Someone with schizophrenia could be interesting, but we have eight people assuming Percival ever gets his butt down here. Then again, one of those is weirdobob and he never really does anything of real importance, he's just here for comic relief, so I think there's room for you. Could you give me an example of how his schizophrenia would help?)

 

Athena turned her head to glance at the group quickly before turning back to the hole. She took a deep breath, pinched her nose shut, and jumped in after them.

Edited January 10, 2015 by MenaAthena