|+| PotC: A Change in the Wind |+ [CLOSED]
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|Author:||Aramel Elyanwe [ July 18th, 2014, 1:34 am ]|
|Post subject:||+| PotC: A Change in the Wind |+ [CLOSED]|
Strange things have been occurring in the waters north of the Bahamas. Ships passing through are never seen from again, their passengers seemingly disappearing into thin air. The Navy has recruited ships to find the missing, but they too, have been disappearing. None dare venture into the area called the Bermuda Triangle, in fear of experiencing the unexplained. But when a mysterious storm appears, shipwrecking a crew of pirates on a bizarre island, they begin to realize that legend and reality can sometimes blur together.
This roleplay will be a blend of fantasy and Pirates of the Caribbean, with many strange things happening on the island. This roleplay is OC-heavy, meaning that canon characters will mostly be used as needed, but are not necessarily the lead characters.
(3-4 per player, maximum)
Captain Jack Sparrow - Played by Aramel Elyanwe
Joshamee Gibbs - Played by Maethoriel
(4-5 per player, maximum)
Alyssandra Degaldo ------ played by Aramel Elyanwe
Edward Blackhaven ------ played by Aramel Elyanwe
Ferren Docherty ------ played by Aramel Elyanwe
Ian Thatcher ------ played by Aramel Elyanwe
Varianna “Vari” Pierce ----- played by Aramel Elyanwe
August Lucian Makkabaus ------ played by Calloniel (PD)
Ettore Gimondi ------ played by Calloniel (PD)
Henry Clarke-Summers ------ played by Calloniel (PD)
Joe Kerringston ------ played by Calloniel (PD)
Aleksandra Gavrillo-Jenko ------ played by Lothy
Andrea Costello Nightingale ------ played by Lothy
Arabella Hartley “Heart” Blackwood ------ played by Lothy
Gracelyn Emelia Alkaev ------ played by Lothy
Aurora-Rose Delour ------ played by Pandora
Gabriel Phillips ------ played by Pandora
[-] No godmodding.
[-] Please only join if you are committed to the RP.
[-] Please do not use someone else's characters unless you have their permission.
[-] Please keep your posts PG-13.
[-] No Mary-Sues or Marty Sams.
|Author:||Calloniel (PD) [ July 18th, 2014, 10:20 pm ]|
|Post subject:||Re: +| PotC: A Change in the Wind |+|
In addition to August, please mark me down for Ettore Gimondi and Henry Clarke-Summers
|Author:||Aramel Elyanwe [ July 20th, 2014, 6:24 pm ]|
|Post subject:||Re: +| PotC: A Change in the Wind |+|
Gotcha hun now we shall wait for teh others ~ also can't wait for your starter post!
|Author:||Calloniel (PD) [ July 21st, 2014, 2:29 am ]|
|Post subject:||Re: +| PotC: A Change in the Wind |+|
Current – Atlantic Ocean, near the Bermuda Triangle, on The Aleksandra.
The man’s cry echoed throughout the entire vessel, cutting through the morning haze surrounding the ship, and Henry’s ears perked up from within his cabin. He had been pouring through Drew’s map over and over and over again all night long until he could hardly keep his blue eyes open. Still, he hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of half of the Latin instructions the man had scribbled down for him. Drew was annoyingly cryptic when he wanted to be and, honestly, Henry was surprised he had any hair left after trying to decipher that handwriting all night.
Of course, it didn’t help that Henry had never picked up on Latin during his years of schooling. Also, it didn’t help that Aleks hadn’t offered much assistance in his plight.
Henry felt like he was on his own here and this wasn’t even his pursuit.
So, he welcomed the reprieve from translating and studying and launched himself from his cabin and hurried across the ship. He rested his hands against the railing of the vessel and leaned forward. He squinted in an attempt to get a better view of the blurred piece of land forming slowly before them. His fingers flexed against the railing in anticipation. They were long, graceful fingers – the mark of a pianist.
He felt a presence strongly beside him and his attention was diverted as his eyes landed on Aleksandra Jenko. It seemed as if she had appeared from thin air.
He had known the woman since she was just a small girl and yet… he didn’t know her anymore… or, at least, not like he had. The thought pained him as he turned to her, “do you think that’s it? Do you think that’s the island Drew sent us on this fool’s errand for?”
Henry’s fingers were quick to pull out the letter written by Drew for them and he scanned over the left-handed man’s chicken scratch.
He and Aleks quietly stood side by side on the Aleksandra as the crew rushed and shouted around them. Drew had named the vessel after the daughter of his best friend, Joseph Jenko, in honor of the entire Jenko family. The Russian family had assisted Drew and Keera financially for many years as they struggled to pay off the debts of the Addington household. Upon Jenko’s untimely death, he had left almost everything to Drew and Keera Addington as long as they cared for his daughter, Aleks. It was a small price to pay especially as Drew’s adopted son, Henry, was already invested in Aleks as a longtime playmate and companion.
Now, it had never been a particular secret that Aleks and Henry had always been attached as children and throughout their young adulthood. Unfortunately, as Drew and Joseph were discussing marriage between the two, life had come up with different plans for both Aleks and for Henry. It had swept them away from their homes as well as each other and it dragged them out to sea.
Yet, people who are meant to be together always have a way of coming back to one another… even if it was under different circumstances.
Under Lord Beckett’s command, Henry and Aleks had stumbled across one another again though they were both different – changed by years and, in Aleks’ case, more violent and heartbreaking methods.
Still, Henry wouldn’t give up on her. Eventually, she would remember that little boy who would play the piano for her and watch with massive blue eyes as she swirled across the room gracefully while smiling ecstatically over his playing.
“It’s real…” Henry murmured under his breath as the island captivated him despite his resistance against believing in the supernatural.
As they continued to close in, the weather changed and the wind began blowing in all directions as if a cyclone was near. The skies had changed to a glowing green and purple. Lights flickered from the island and shot into the sky. The current of the water changed even and dolphins, fish and sharks all flooded past them as a unit. In the air, flocks of birds rushed around the ship’s masts and the crew’s heads toward the island.
All of these creatures were flocking toward the island and crying out not out of fear but… out of excitement?
As the birds swarmed by them, the noise was almost deafening and Henry ducked just in time to avoid being run into by a seagull.
Current (from 1998 Chicago) – The Atlantic Ocean, near the Bermuda Triangle, on The Black Pearl.
“Cazzo!” Ettore Gimondi spat out as he tried to untangle himself from Gracie’s long legs. The task was trying, however, as they had landed in a massive heap in the middle of… what was this anyway? “Figlio di Troia!” He pushed Gracie from him and struggled to sit up, “You need to watch where you’re pushing me!”
Their eyes met for a second in the dim light and he burst into a fit of snickers.
Ett and Gracie were always young at heart no matter how old they might become (which wasn’t as old as Drew, that was for sure).
“You need to tell your dad to clean up his side of the dannare room!”
Ett’s hair had been allowed to grow out over the last few months and was almost shoulder length now. He was wearing a simple pair of faded black jeans, his extremely worn (honestly probably ready for the trash bin) pair of black converse shoes and a plain white V-neck shirt.
“Um…” he tugged on Gracie’s arm as he tried to help her up out of the pile of burlap and crates they had happened to fall into, “cazzo, Gracie,” he continued to speak Italian. Honestly, it was just easiest as they were both fluent and he had never been fond of speaking English. Blame that on his father who had attempted to shove his mind full of every language in existence. Ah, the life of an Assassin in training.
Those days were done, however. Now he was just Ettore. Not a Templar or an Assassin, nor was he a double agent. However, he had retained his skills and he was immediately on high alert as he took in their unfamiliar surroundings.
“We aren’t in Drew’s lab…”
It seemed like a fairly obvious statement as they were surrounded by darkness now and creaking wood. They swayed rhythmically and Ett felt a little sick to his stomach. There was also the distinct sound of squeaking mice or… rats.
“Merda,” he jumped back as something scampered across the top of his converses.
No, they were no longer in Drew’s stark white lab with its lounge area accessorized with plush red bean bag chairs and its cooler stocked full of junk food and beer. One corner of the lab housed Drew’s massive collection of cars ranging from early 1900’s models to the models that hadn’t even been released to the market yet. The worktops, stools, crazy vials filled with glowing liquids, pages after pages of notes, all of it was gone completely.
What struck Ett next was the odor. The reek of this place was even worse than the chirping rodents.
Despite the fact that Ett had never particularly enjoyed the smell of bleach and chemicals, the rank smell of unclean humans and spoiling things was even worse.
Ett brought his arm up to his nose and looked across the darkness toward Gracie’s silhouette. She couldn’t see his expression completely in the dim light but he knew she was thinking the same thing he was thinking. They had tripped some Drew-Experiment and who even knew what that could mean. Nobody knew what Drew did down in his lab in the darkest and loneliest parts of the night. The man was crazy, Ett was sure of it. He had lived so long that he had gone properly stark raving mad. After all, sometimes during dinner he would mutter to himself as he wrote long equations that took up not one, but two pieces of paper… and they had just tripped something this man had invented.
Ett dug around in his pocket for a lighter and pulled one out along with a pack of cigarettes. He snapped the lighter to life yet it did little good to light the dim bilge of the pirate ship and eventually he gave up and lit his cigarette instead, needing the nicotine kick to calm himself down some.
“So can you explain this to me?” He turned to Gracie expectantly as he motioned crazily around them, the orange glow from the tip of the cigarette dimly lit the panic in his face. She was the genius’ daughter, after all, and ridiculously intelligent on her own behalf. Obviously, she should have some sort of a speculation.
1911 – New Orleans, Louisiana. Moving to current and the island located within the Bermuda Triangle.
The manor sat far back from the main road leading out of New Orleans. The home was completely obscured from passing travelers by greenery and growing plants, which was how its owners preferred it. It was painted a cream color and the columns that rose from the front porch connected with the roof. The grandeur of the house was formidable but not necessarily unwelcoming. The two-story, manor home stood dead center in the middle of the bayou and was surrounded by rolling gardens leading up to the marsh front. August had built it with the intentions of engulfing them and their offspring in nature and feeding off it - growing and tending to their powers first and foremost.
Heart thrived in the gardens and wilderness. He built all of this for His Heart.
The lane leading up to the house was graveled and lined with southern oak trees drenched in Spanish moss and dragging across the lawn. The moss swayed with the wind and its weight caused the trees to groan. A large, engraved sign hung proudly between two pillars over the gravel drive and read “Blackwood Hall”.
All of the residents of New Orleans had a story – good or bad – to tell about Blackwood Hall.
A pale snake wound her way through the grass and slipped in though the slightly open front door and into the foyer. The foyer was massive and circular – a grand staircase branched off of it and led to the upper stories.
The sound of children’s laughter echoed down the hallway and was followed by an elderly lady’s gentle scolding. There was the patter of small footsteps and then more giggles. Ishtar, Heart’s snake companion, licked the air before being drawn to the children’s commotion.
Back outside, August Makkabäus, lord of the house and of New Orleans itself, took his wife’s hand.
He and Heart had carved out a name for themselves here in this city and they had slowly wedeled their way into the hearts and lives of its citizens. Many different techniques had been used to accomplish this task. Some of the citizens lived in genuine fear of the Makkabäus name, some of them held the family in respect; some were almost-friends to the family. And, for those unfortunate enough to get on his bad side, some of the citizens who dared to oppose or question him were met by an untimely death. Lastly fell the group of unfortunate souls who dared to wander onto the lands that August had claimed for his own. Almost all of those people, whether naïve and innocent or not, met the fate of donating organs and blood to his latest spells and experimental curses… and his bloodlust.
Under the bright midday sun, however, August almost appeared harmless as his eyes fell on His Heart. A smirk brightened his face and crinkled his nose as his fingers laced through Heart’s and guided her out to the hedge maze standing in the back parts of their garden.
The hedges had been well tended and grown over the years by Heart herself and August, using his powers, had manipulated the hedges into growing in a certain pattern. He would change the shape and complexity of the maze annually just to amuse himself.
They hurried away from the manor and their nest of children within, leaving them to the care of their grandmother. He spun her in a circle as he swept her along beside his slender form.
August was tall, standing a few inches over six foot and, although toned and fit, he was still naturally built thin. His auburn hair caught fire in the sunlight and his eyes flicked green to match the surrounding hedges.
Once they had made it to the center of the maze, he sat down cross-legged into the tall grass and tugged His Heart with him. They sat across from one another and August dug a small jar from within his suit jacket and set it out on the ground between them. He unscrewed the lid and pulled out a human heart preserved in the blood of the person who had been sacrificed. He dipped his fingers into the blood and took some out.
He hesitated, making eye contact with Heart, before smearing the blood across his forehead and then he reached across to smear some across her forehead as well.
He wiped his fingers off neatly on a handkerchief and folded that and gently tossed it aside.
He placed the organ between the two of them and breathed deeply before taking her hands into his own over the heart and closing his eyes.
August began his chant slowly and the words rolled from his tongue in a smooth string of a heavily accented Southern drawl mingled with German – betraying his heritage.
At first nothing happened except the blood from the heart leaked into the tall grass and turned it a brilliant shade of crimson between them.
August’s eyes flew open suddenly – they had transformed to a coal black and glistened in the burning southern sunlight.
The oaks around them swayed violently and the clouds above swirled into fantastic patterns. August’s heart raced and he felt Heart’s pulse quicken beneath his fingers. He found himself laughing with the power that surged between them as he continued to chant and his words changed from German to a much darker language and his tone took on deep undercurrents that shook the ground slightly.
The heart between them burst into blue flames suddenly and there was the sound of rain echoing around them and yet it wasn’t raining. The sun was shining brightly above.
Suddenly, everything felt like it was being sucked inside of them and around them. Energy was collapsing and the ground was caving in. There was a resounding crack and then light and air radiated from them, rippling smoothly outward.
When August’s eyes opened again, they were seated on a sandy beach and surrounding them was the decaying wreckage of an ancient ship.
“Heart!” He exclaimed in delight as he bounced to his feet and took a few staggering steps back. The spell had drained him more than he had anticipated yet that didn’t dampen his spirit and he was quickly recovering and feeding off the energies of this place.
They had left behind the Louisiana bayous and were now standing in the middle of a beach bordered by dense jungles. Strange sounds welcomed and engulfed them.
The sky above them was made up of shimmering droplets of light that rainbowed purples and pinks across the horizon. The droplets were suspended around the two of them close enough for August to reach out to capture one of the drops. It clung to his palm, remaining solid yet fluid and opposing all explanation. He offered the gem over to Heart before taking her hand and tearing off across the beach.
Power and energy pulsed through them, trailing up their legs from the sand and the center of the island.
A massive sailing ship was beached there. Its sails were tattered and swaying in the breeze… except there wasn’t a breeze, August realized. The place was entirely too calm.
He spun a full circle with Heart as sand sprayed around both of them and he found that he was laughing along with her. He tugged at her hands and walked backwards in front of her across the beach so that he could watch every change in her face as she took in this miracle world he had promised to show her.
He waved a hand and heat radiated from his palm across the beach and a river appeared underneath wherever his hand went. As they moved on, the river followed behind them and out of the river sprung colorful fish the likes of which had never been seen and went unnamed.
Between August and Heart’s clasped hands, there was a glowing energy of blues and purples snapping and rippling with the atmosphere. They wordlessly interacted with this world and it sprang to life around them and responded to their enchanting influences.
August separated his palm from Heart’s and captured the electricity that had been flowing between them and formed it into a ball which he flung into the air. There came a snap and then there were sparks and tiny fireworks that showered down violently around them. Purple, green, pink and blue, a collage of colors sparkled against the sky. The sparks landed all around them and formed stars throughout the sand at their feet.
“Lady Heart,” he swept an exaggerated bow and offered her his hand again before looking up toward her. His eyes danced a light periwinkle and he leaned in toward her to brush his nose softly over hers. “Your paradise awaits!”
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