Land of Leznaroth

⟵ Land of Leznaroth ⟶​

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✖ OOC Thread ✖​

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The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed throughout the forest. Battle cries rang out in every direction. Footsteps padded heavily on the ground, snapping twigs and crunching leaves. Mud flew in every direction as the wet ground was trampled upon. Blood, sweat, tears, and dirt, stained the clothes of those on the battle grounds. Their faces hardened with years of experience. The fighting never seemed to end. Their bodies grew weak with fatigue. Blasts of fire ripped through the forest, scorching the trees they hid behind. No one was safe. The battle to end all battles was soon to begin, these were just the preliminaries.​

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Heavy breathing came from the those in combat. They were tired from all the work. They had been trying their hardest for days when the battle just seemed to continue to rage on. There would be no end. The war would recycle over and over again. Only one could remain standing—the rest must fall. There could be only one survivor, one winner. This person crowned victor—the ruler of the land.​

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The Land of Leznaroth is a special place; full of medieval armor, monsters, and magic. It is a safe haven for all that feel they do not belong in this world. It fills the void for those that never quite belonged. Now, they have somewhere to go—to dress up and act out their dreams and fantasies. Every Sunday at 4 pm, people from all over flock to Traska Lake Park. Why? To enter the mythical world that is Leznaroth. They are greeted with the wonders that do not exist here. Ogres, trolls, elves, and beasts greet them at every turn. Wielders of might and magic alike are free to embrace who they truly are. The dawn on their costumes, dust off their weaponry, and trek to the park to stake claim to the champion title of King. Do you have what it takes to rule the land—to win the fame, the glory, the prizes, the ladies?​

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Okay. . . So it's really not that extravagant, but the winner does get bragging rights, and a plastic crown. That's worth something, right? Everyone always likes to feel better than others--especially when it comes to sword fighting, body smashing, and throwing projectiles? Welcome to the Land of Leznaroth, where your fantasy dreams may come true.​

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Summary !​

♦ The Land of Leznaroth is a LARPing based RolePlay. It will have a bit of an MMO feel to it, in the aspect that your characters will have two different versions of themselves. One will be their real-life self, and the other will be their in-character self. Most of the RP will take place ooc, or in real-life, as they go about their lives and also train.​

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♦ Then, every few in character days it will become Sunday and they will be romping around in Traska Park being whomever they wish to be. There are no restrictions on Races/Class/Weapons/etc. There will be no leveling or experience gained or any of that such. People simply get stronger through practicing and it shows when they battle.​

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♦ Winners in fights will be determined by a coin flip on my end. When two people engage, they will duke it out and I will PM the pair what the result will be. Those that possess magic are free to create their own spells. There is no limit on their magical knowledge, but the newer they are to the circuit, the less skilled they will be.​

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♦ Everything they wear and use will be homemade. So while they may imagine it to be exquisite unique and fantastical, it most likely definitely doesn't appear that way in real-life. Writing as both points of view during fights is optional.​

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Example: Rissy cast a fire spin attack and flames engulfed the troll. (Rissy pulled a cluster or red ribbons from her pocket and threw them at the person dressed like troll. They fell to a pile at his feet.)​

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Rules !​

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♦ Please be active. It is important.​

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♦ Contribute. Add to the plot. Feel free to do your own thing, within reason.​

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♦ No god-modding. I have very simple rules in place to prevent this. Don't mess with me. If you god-mod without permission, I will bring down the mighty hammer of Jayn and ban your ass from my roleplay. I am not joking.​

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♦ When they are engaged in battle, I will flip a coin to see who wins. Please be creative and respectful during your fights. You can easily write a fight scene with someone without god-modding or power playing. If you need help with it, let me know. Whatever the coin toss determines will provide the winner and loser. I will PM the pair that are fighting so they can work out how their fight ends.​

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♦ Characters can be anywhere from 13 on up. The competition rules state that they have to be at least 13 to participate, so your character needs to be at least 13 to be in the roleplay. All non-NPCs are LARPers.​

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♦ One liners are allowed, only scarcely. ​

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♦ You will be required to post every two weeks or you are out of the roleplay. I feel that is a very generous amount of time. You are expected to post more frequently than once every two weeks, but I understand things come up and can make it difficult at times.​

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♦ Weekdays (in the rp) require less of a demand, but when it comes to Sunday in the rp more activity will required. Every two weeks is when it will be Sunday. The days in the rp will be time skipped often depending on what's going on. If there is nothing happening a certain day, I will move it to the next. If stuff is occurring, then I will wait til it's finished and then maybe skip a day or two depending on how much time is left before the next LARPing event.​

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♦ Each event will last 3-4 days long. It will vary depending on activity. The more active everyone is, the more time they will be allowed to battle and whatnot. It probably will not occur often, but I might even extend it longer, depending on the situation. I am being very lenient with the posting. Don't break my heart.​

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♦ KH-Vids rules still apply, but I have no problem with language/violence/romance. Just keep it appropriate and tasteful.​

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♦ If you have questions, just ask. I don't bite much.​

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♦ Your characters will either work in teams or individually when at the competition. If you would like to sign up with someone(s) just let me know in your CS. There will be a spot for it. Your character will have a better chance at lasting longer if they are working in a team. If you would like to be in a group, but do not have anyone to join with, just write that you would like me to match you up. I will gladly do that after all the character sheets have been submitted.​

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♦ Magic is only used by Mages, Elves, and Demons. There is no limit on spell knowledge, but your character is in charge of coming up with new spells. That is how they learn. They obviously won't need tons of physical strength or stamina to accomplish things, but practicing is still important. If they wish to evade someone, then they need to work on their cardio when not competing. If they want to knock a sword out of someone's hand, they have to practice sword fighting.​

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♦ I reserve the right to add or subtract from these rules. I will always alert you all if I do. ​

 

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☄ ⎧DAY┊ Sunday⎭ ❂ ⎧WEARING┊ Costume⎭ ❂ ⎧OOC┊ First Post⎭ ☄​

☄ ⎧MAGIC┊ 6 Ribbons left⎭ ❂ ⎧INJURIES┊ Cut left arm, Stab to right shoulder⎭ ☄​

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Battle cries sounded from all around. Attacks were flying in every direction. Steel clashed against steel. Shields made thunking noises as swords struck them. Magic blazed all around. Streaks of light flashed through the forest as lightning shot from wands and scepters. Fire scorched the ground and men were frozen in ice. The metallic scent of blood filled the forest as bodies lay helpless on the ground. A man crawled across the dirt, moaning in agony, his face covered in blood and sweat. He called out to the blackish-blue haired girl running by, grabbing at her ankle. She shook him off. ❝Let me go!❞ The battle was almost over. She couldn't risk being dragged down by some failure on the ground. Time was precious and limited. She jumped over a fallen tree, making her way to the safety corner she had made for herself. No one ever found her there. Plus, she had a special reserve of magic stocked up! Something grabbed her arm, causing her to abruptly stop and stumble to her knees.

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Her hands hit the ground at the same time as her knees. The tome she had been carrying fell in front of her a few feet away and the last of her ribbons spilled out in a mess. The tip of a Styrofoam sword was pointed next to her right cheek. Slowly, she turned her head to the left, seeing the blade in full. Her golden eyes ( colored contacts ) traveled up the gray painted foam until they reached the body holding it. A boy, about two years older than her, was hovering just above her. Anabelle flipped over so that she was in a crab-crawl position, but made a pained face as it would be hurting her arms if real. ❝Ready to die?❞ he asked in a breathy low voice. She narrowed her eyes at him. He was a human, like herself. His gear was that of a swordsman and she couldn't help but take a little pride in the fact that her costume looked better than his. His appeared to be cheaply made with little effort put into it. His colors were an alternating yellow and green.​

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❝You grabbed me! You cheated!❞ she spat. Cheaters were the worst. She let her body fall flat on her back and reached out for one of the ribbons. She needed her magic if she planned on surviving this attack. Her wrist was crushed into the ground as his body's weight came down on her. He had his foot on her arm, immobilizing it. ❝Ow! That hurts!❞ This area of the forest was rather secluded, and there was no one around to watch the attack he was laying on her. Her heart beat fast in her chest and she could feel the stinging at the back of her eyes. This was supposed to be fun! There were always jerks like this guy that took things too far, but she rarely had to deal with it. It was just a game, after all. People took games way too seriously.​

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The sword came down across her throat and she could feel the life quickly seeping out of her. Blood pooled the front of her dress, pouring out of her neck. Everything was beginning to fade away. The pressure on her arm had dispersed and the sound of footsteps echoed off the ground. Twigs snapped under the boy's feet as he fled the scene. She lie alone on the ground in a copse of trees, as time began to slow. Everything was fading to a blur. Her vision tunneled into a needle point, blackness was quickly filling in. She tried to call out for help, but all that came was a gurgling of blood from her mouth. Her head rolled to the side as the last wisp of life drained from her. Everything grew silent, no longer could she hear the sounds of battle or the chirping of birds. It was all gone.​

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The horn sounded, signifying the end of battle. Anastasia jumped to her feet and scooped up her ribbons and journal in her arms. She would have to retrace her steps to find the others. Gathering up her strips of magic was always the worst part about the day. It was never fun to go looking for them. She always had to make more. So much of her money was spent was spent on ribbon at the local craft store that her mother was forcing her to look for a job. ❝No more hand outs. If you want money for your silly make-believe, you can earn it.❞ she told her. Anastasia tucked them back inside the case as she walked back to where most of the participants were. She rubbed her sore wrist with her other hand and frowned as she walked. Cheaters were the worst, and now her wrist was turning a pale purple from bruising. What a jerk!​

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❝Can someone help me find my ribbons?❞ she called out to the others. Anastasia didn't talk much with the other citizens of Leznaroth, but she liked most of them. Usually before the battle would begin she was too busy prepping herself mentally to want to have any conversations. There had been quite a few that asked her to join their parties as well, but she couldn't get past that feeling of isolation inside her, even here. She waved cheerfully as one of the elves approached her. ❝Thanks Sable,❞ she greeted the girl in an olive green garment. It was fringed at the bottom, just brushing her knees. The top had thick straps and was sleeveless. There were floral patterns sewn on it and she had a halo of flowers winding around the top of her head. Her brown hair was braided over the shoulder, with green and blue ribbons wound within the hair. She had on knee-high brown leather boots that zipped all the way up the side. There were large buckles wrapping around them and holey nylons underneath.​

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Sable smiled sweetly back at her as she bent down to collect a few stray ribbons on the ground. ❝No problem Anabelle.❞ She noticed Anastasia rubbing her wrist as she scooped up some more rogue ribbons and narrowed her brows. ❝Did something happen? You look hurt.❞​

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❝Oh, some jerk I didn't recognize stepped on my wrist to immobilize me while he slit my throat with his sword.❞ The words came out gravely and full of annoyance. People like him didn't deserve to participate. Leznaroth was supposed to be a fun safe place to get away from her problems, not have them added onto. ❝It's fine though. Doesn't hurt too much, just a little bruised.❞ She gave the elf a cheerful smile, but Sable didn't appear to reassured by the the gesture. Anastasia grabbed the last of the ribbons she could find. ❝Thanks for the help! Don't worry about my wrist. I'll be fine.❞ She gave the brunette another quick smile before skipping off down the path.​

 

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In the world of Leznaroth, it was always constant fighting. People yelling and clashing against each other while others fired spells and magic at another, disintegrating them into piles of ashes. All for the glorious title for bragging rights. Most of the people were front line fighters. Then there was Mya, one of the few who weren't part of the larger teams who fought in the front.​

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As an elf, she was the sly, cunning type. One who would skip around battle, finding open points to take down the enemies. Today though, she decided to fight from afar. With a quiet pluck, an arrow flew in the air, piercing a person's throat as he drowned in his own blood. Many say she was one of the best shots and she almost nails her shots when she finds her target. She breathed out as she grabbed another arrow and notched it for another shot, this time aiming for a person wielding a large sword. Just as she was about to let go of the arrow, a horn was blown, signaling the end of the game. She sighed and placed the arrow back in the quiver.​

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Another day has ended with still no sign of a victor. She hopped down from the tree she was in, picking up the arrows she shot, of course them being rubber tipped so they wouldn't kill or injure anyone. To her dismay, most of her arrows shot were snapped or broken. It was expected since ranged users had to pick up their materials while those with swords and whatnot don't really need to clean up. As she picked up the last of her arrows, she looked at her watch. Just in time for preparing the club schedules. Outside of Leznaroth, she was the head president of her high school. She headed out back to the plaza, planning to grab some food before heading back home.​

 

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Day: Sunday | Supplies Left: Poisoned Apple(Apple with a black cross on it), 2 potions(both for health), Coal and Iron Ore | OOC: SORRY SORRY. SO SORRY​

His partner was dead and could not be brought back to life, [His partner quit LARPing and had no intentions of coming back] so the Kitten already had to adjust to being alone already. His weaponry was very weak for his usual inventory, so he chose to go to the market and get himself new spears while he had the chance. It was a very lovely day and he had luckily not had to draw a sword yet with his weapons being so broken.​

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At one of the stalls a beautiful diamond plated Yari [stick attached with rock, coated in plastic], he eyeballed it with a childlike delight before asking what the price was for it.​

"Seventeen Rupees. Or adding up to that in a different currency."​

"What does that equal to in gold?"​

"240."​

"I do not have 240, but I have 200."​

"If you cannot afford it, you do not have the right to wield it."​

The Annoying Kitten stuck his tongue out at the man and ran off. Despite his annoyances, he was an honest man and could not steal from an honest merchant without good reason. He found himself a seat under a Weeping tree and chose to catnap for a little while.​

 

OOC: I've decided for this RP I'm going to try something different and write from the first person perspective. So don't think I'm being odd. XD

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A normal guy. Just your every day Average Joe. Yup. That's me.
I'm not someone from anything like those anime you see. I'm not some supernatural hero from one of those comic books or manga. No sir. I'm no action hero like you get in one of those movies with the big explosions and a bad guy with a funny accent that you can never place. Nope.
Most importantly... I can DEFINITELY not see spirits. I am not a Reaper who guides the dead or protects the balance between the mortal realm and the after-life. No way. After all, who would believe that?

"Ka-chan!"

...Oh wait. She still does.
I sigh to myself as I continue the walk home, paying no heed to the voice behind me. I know it's Sunday today, but I had to help out one of my teachers at the school which is why I am also currently dressed in my school uniform.
"Hey! Ka-chan! I know you can hear me! Wait up!"
I sigh once more as I stop in my tracks and turn around to regard 'the voice'.
Finally catching up to me and panting from where she was running, I see... my neighbor and childhood friend, Ignelia Hikauru.
"Ka-chan, you baka. Why didn't you wait?"
"Because I'm going home." I bluntly respond, eyeing up the two bags she was holding. "Guessing you're off to Traska Lake Park?"
"Yup!"
"Have fun then." I simply tell her as I turn around to start walking, but... that's when I feel something hit my back. I turn around suddenly. "...What exactly are you doing?"
"Considering you're The Death God of Balance, I'm surprised you haven't noticed already. I have two bags here. I only need one if I'm going to Leznaroth."
I feel something inside of me break as I'm referred to by that title. Feeling my eye twitch, I try to keep a level voice. "Iggy. I told you to never call me that again."
"Oh come on! It's a part of who you are! You are the legendary Reaper who saved the mortal and spiritual realms from collapse!"
My reason snaps as the horrifying (embarrassing) traces of my past that I've tried to erase are shouted out at me for all those surrounding us to hear.
"Gah! Goddammit Iggy! I told you. Leznaroth does not exist. I am not a Reaper, I don't see spirits and I do not lose myself in those embarressing little games anymo-"However... I find myself cut off as 'she' appears. A cold calculating voice coming from the mouth of the bubbly and always excited friend I know. "Kato Shugo."
I can't believe how much I'm sighing today, but I do so again and wonder if this is bad for my health (at least mentally).
"You cannot deny your past, or your future. You cannot escape destiny. You don't just stop being who you are because you wish it to be so. You will always be-"
"Yeah, yeah, Lin. I get it. Whatever."
Me cutting off Lin (Iggy's inner demon/twin whatever thing) seemed to have caught her by surprise, but she quickly regains her composure and continues on like normal. "Don't push me. You know just how powerful I am."
I ignore her and try to start walking again, but a hand grabs onto my shirt and stops me. ...Even I myself am surprised how strong Iggy seems to be when in... 'Lin mode'.
"I may despise my sister and being trapped in her pathetic mortal form, but I won't have you ignore her."
I realize she's referring to the bag and that she'd made a big deal about having two earlier, and then... my heart sinks as I realize just what... she has done. "Oh... no you didn't...?"
I open the bag and have to stifle a scream of despair. "Where did you get this?! I threw this out!"
"I rescued it from the darkness, just for you, Ka-chan." Now she's back in Iggy mode, huh?
Goddammit. Inside the bag is my old costume from... No! I won't think about those embarrassing days! I won't think about it, nope! ...Even though a sense of mild nostalgia is coming back to me from the mere sight of the costume, I-... NO!
Dammit! Why can't I just escape my past?
"You have to understand, Ka-chan. ...Leznaroth isn't the same without you. I need you."
My voice catches in my throat. ...I left Leznaroth behind a long time ago, for good. That was what I promised myself. It was time to grow up.
"You and me were unbeatable together. Please, Ka-chan?"
"No." I simply tell her as I start to walk again. I however am completely unaware of the fact that I'm still holding the bag she bought me with my costume and stuff in it. Nor am I aware of the grin that was on her face as she had in fact noticed what I had failed to notice.
I continued on home, trying to not let the past cloud me, and trying to ignore the ghosts in my vision.

Spoiler: Introducing...

 

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☄ ⎧DAY┊ Monday⎭ ❂ ⎧WEARING┊ Click⎭ ❂ ⎧OOC┊ Time Skip⎭ ☄​

☄ ⎧TIME┊ 9:46 a.m.⎭ ❂ ⎧LOCATION┊ Home & School⎭ ☄​

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Anastasia had been running late for school that morning. She had barely managed to make it in time to catch the bus. She had spent most of the night cleaning up her costume and cutting new ribbons to bother with any homework, so by the time morning came, she had to scramble to get it done. Her hair was a mess and the only way to manage it was by braiding it back. She hated wearing her hair in braids. The kids at school always made fun of her for it. She didn't look right. Did she ever look right to them? It wasn't fair.

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She huffed a sigh as her hand slammed the tall metal locker shut. It was taller than her and the top shelf always remained empty. If anything ever got set up there, she would never be able to reach it. One of those convenient store bought locker shelves rested at the bottom, serving as a replacement. Anastasia grabbed her thick worn out math textbook from the bottom and the corresponding notebook. Algebra II was one of her least favorite subjects. Math was dumb! However, even in her dislike for it, she still excelled in the classroom. What she didn't excel in, was in the hallways. Swarms of people were gathered in rings, occupying the majority of the halls. There never seemed to be any walking space and no one could ever take one step closer together. If they just made their dumb circles tighter, she wouldn't have to bump into them all the time--that never went well.​

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Bumping into the clusters of people always ended one of two ways: being shoved for getting in their way, or receiving some rude comment about how she couldn't watch where she was walking--as if it was her fault! They had quite the audacity. Anastasia held her items close to her chest and began the inevitable circle weaving. She hated it in school. Why couldn't school be more like fantasy? Leznaroth was fun and exciting and adventurous. School was filled with jerks and problems and homework. However, a jerk seemed to slip his way into the magical realm of Leznaroth as well. Why couldn't they stay out of her sanctuary? Was it so much to ask for?​

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Anastasia stared down at her feet, careful not to make eye contact. Typically if she didn't meet any of their eyes, she would be safe. The math room she had Algebra II in was just down the hall a little ways. Three more doors on the right and she would be there. One step, two step, left foot, right foot--she didn't notice the foot sticking out waiting for her until it was too late. She caught her right foot on the shoe of the basketball player leaning against his locker. Anastasia spilled the contents of her arms out onto the floor in front of her as she braced for the impact. First her hands, then her knees hit the ground. Pain shot through her quickly and their was a mixture of laughter, shock, and concern that spread through the crowds of people. She didn't look up. Anastasia scrabbled to her feet and scooped up her things without turning to look and see who tripped her or how many people saw. She ran to the math room and sat down in a hurry. Her eyes were glossy and her face beet red. The heels of her hands stung--she had scraped them on impact. She tipped her head down and stared at the papers on the desk in front of her. Her heart hammered in her chest and blood pounded in her ears. The numbers on the page seemed to blur together as her eyes welled with tears, but she bit them back. Not today.​

 

Punk rock. The Ramones, The Dead Kennedys, Black Flag. Metal. Be it Thrash, Doom, Sludge, Death, Black, etc. It was all about expression. Expressing your emotions, your pains, your fears, and your deepest and darkest thoughts. People write it off as noise. Noise with unintelligible, meaningless lyrics. Just fuel for teenage rebellion, the occult, and devil worship. And you know what? They're right. One could could argue forever about the complexity and skill in the music. The meaning and true message of the lyrics. Bryan definitely could. But the underlying truth is that the music is all of those things. However, it's fans identify with the chaos. Millions of pained, angry, and lonely teens go unnoticed and don't have anyone to relate to. So they start with the music and find themselves happier, releasing stress just by listening to the things they wish they could say. Questioning parents, questioning school, questioning religion, and questioning life.

Ah, digression, the point was expression. And Bryan Mason Everett has no problem with expressing himself. Perhaps that's why the young man's room was in the ramshackle condition it was in. The bedroom he slept in was pretty big. A wide double bed, which Bryan was splayed across on his stomach, sat in the center of the room against the wall with a nightstand on either side. There were several band t-shirts strewn across the floor, discarded plastic from CDs and game wrappers, and the occasional Thrasher magazine. There were several posters rolled up on the walls: One of Black Sabbath w/ Ozzy, One of Sabbath w/ Dio, another of Slayer's Seasons in the Abyss album cover, and finally a huge painting of his Leznaroth persona, "The Gnasher", that another player had given him hanging over his bed, his two favorite skateboard decks depicting Thrasher pentagrams on either side. A Stone Cold Steve Austin alarm clock sat on the nigthstand to the right, declaring the time every hour with a spirited, "GET UP PUNK!"

Bryan lived in a 2-bedroom apartment his cousin, Blake, had allowed Bryan to use while he was in the Peace Corps. Blake had hit the state lotto for 8 million and set it up to where the rent and bills were automatically charged every month. It was actually suspected that Blake had gotten on the wrong caravan to his camp in Niger and had been kidnapped by child soldiers...so it was safe to say Bryan had moved in permanently. Bryan prefers to be called Mason now, he doesn't hate his first name, it's just his way of putting the past behind him. He and his parents had had a heated relationship throughout his teenage years over the music and his behavior, which is why he sought solace in moving in with Blake. Bryan also smoked a lot of grass. Blake was into free expression and whatnot so they never really crossed wires.

Mason rolled over in bed, slumbering until his shift at the fast food joint he worked at. He didn't have to work until the afternoon, so he made a point of sleeping until then. Unfortunately, as if possesed with laziness-hating demons, the Stone Cold clock blared a screeching tone and yelled out, "GET UP PUNK!". What sort of sick, tasteless f***ing joke was this? Almost instantly his hand shot out from under the sheets and slammed down repeatedly on the nightstand until his fingers found the Stop button. "UGHHH! Damn you, Steve Austin!" He grunted, moaning as he pushed himself up and turned over on his back to sit up. 9:30 A.M....9:30...whose idea of a sick prank was this? He sat up and rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hopping up.

"Might as well get the day started." Mason said, pushing down Play on his iHome which subsequently began blaring the opening drum fill to "The Wolf is Loose" by Mastodon. The young man made a show of taking his shirt off while air drumming along, simultaneously sliding open his closet with his foot. A wide arry of dark, multi-colored shirts, ripped jeans, several shorts, and a pile of accesories filled the closet. All of this paled next to his Leznaroth costume in the center of the closet. It was pretty expensive, the armor wasn't cardboard wrapped with foil, it was low-grade plate metal. The eyes in the skull on the abdomen were hand-painted and made from real pearl. With the rent and bills paid every month, Mason's paycheck could go to pretty much whatever he wanted. He grabbed the Another Enemy shirt with the Reaper on it, a pair of camo shorts, and some black Converse with a spiked armlet to go with it. He laid them out on the bed and left the room to go take care of the morning duties.

-ONE PISS, TEETH BRUSHING, SHOWER, AND DRESSNG SCENE LATER-

Mason sat on his luxurious couch in the living room, devouring a huge mixing bowl full of Fruity Pebbles. The TV was playing Spongebob at an obnoxiously high volume. "Mmf...boored." He slurred through a mouthful of cereal. The boy picked up his cell phone and typed a text to send to Matt:

"yo, what's good matt? i heard you were too broke to buy the Yari looooool. hey man im boored and some doosh set my clock to wake me up early <_<. if you're not up brooding, you wanna come over and hang out until work?...i have 'theleaves'."

With a quick push of a button the message was sent off.

 

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Day: Monday | Music| Location: Home|OOC: Writing with onscreen keyboard :c​

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He was stuck living with his parents yet again. The night before he had come back from the park to see his girlfriend cheating on him. He wouldn't have felt so bad, he had girlfriends cheat on him before, but he had never had a girlfriend cheat on him with a girl. How the hell was he supposed to take that? Apparently his girl was experimenting with him, and he was now confused more than anything.​

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He didn't want to go to work but now he really had to, unless he wanted to stay living up in the attic.​

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He had a couple of hours to kill so he took some of his father's tool shed supplies and worked on making spears, because yesterday was a disaster trying to get one.​

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Matt felt his pocket vibrate and stopped his work to read the text.​

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Oh Mason... who would set your alarm other than you?​

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Matt would rather be over there now anyway. Anything really to get out of the house really.​

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Matt put away all the power-tools so the cat wouldn't hurt itself on them, then he headed out of the house in a hurry. As he was heading out he made himself some toast real quick and waked out of the house with it in his mouth. He laughed to himself, if he was in a rush and in a school uniform he would look like something out of an anime. Matt went to shut the door and watched the black-haired, golden-eyed cross-eyed feline run out the door meowing.​

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He walked for a couple of minutes and realized it was following him. He stopped and told the cat to go away, but it kept following him. You aren't a dog, leave me be.​

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The cat continued meowing every time he took a step. Matt sighed deeply and felt a head-ache coming. ​

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Annoying cat...​

 

Swords clashed and grinded against sheids as the battle raged on. The red sun raged heat upon the armor-clad warrior and his demon foes alike, yet they seemed undeterred by the harsh conditions. With a swift parry, the warrior ripostes and dispatches of an enemy, crushing another with a deft slash. He circles the last enemy and rears back to deliver the final blow when out of nowhere, a noise. The squeal of a hog and the crash of armor smashing the ground haphazardly. He turns his gaze to the side and sees an armored boar charging his way, tusks in position to kill. He rolls away, but into the path of the enemy and can barely raise his axe before he is impaled on the demon's spear. The warrior crashes to the ground on one knee and then falls over, fading into nothingness along with the 10,000 souls he held.

A bright "YOU ARE DEAD" flashes across the TV screen from Mason's suddenly ended game of Dark Souls.

"DAMN IT!" He exclaims, tossing the controller to the side on the couch. This isn't the first time he's died in this session and the point where his character spawns is very far fom where he died. "Con Clavi Con Dio" by Ghost plays moderately loud in the background, it's infectious riffs soothing Mason and bringing him to bob his head in tiime with the music. As he sighs and comes back to reality, he hops up from the couch and saunters over to the kitchen area to refill his humoungous metal bowl with another half-box of Fruity Pebbles. It was strange, Mason had no problem putting away abnormal portions of food but his size always stuck. He was 20 years old and a solid 150 pounds. Not bony, but he was definitely skinny. It switched between toned muscle and dead weight with his irregular exercise patterns and drug use. Ever since he started doing Leznaroth regularly, he'd been in pretty good shape though.

As he poured the mound of cereal into the bowl, he felt his phone vibrate and nimbly shoved one hand in his pocket to pull out his phone. He tapped the screen to open the message from Matt:

ya, it was ripoff anyway. sure i'll head over. gonna eat 1st tho. i'll be there in 15.​

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Mason nodded and typed back sporadically:

very cool. put some pep in your step this stuff is worth it.​

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After pressing Send, Mason reached in his back pocket and pulled out the bag of aforementioned 'goods'. It was called Blue Dream and Honeysuckle. Cost him 70 bucks for a half ounce. He rotated the sack between his fingers and smelled the greenery, it was strong. "Ahhhh," He sighed out, "Matthew better hurry or I'm gonna start without him, heh." And with that, he carried the bowl of cereal back to the table next to a gallon of milk and began breaking the plant down to the side.​

 

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Day: Monday | Music| Location: Walking / Mason's House|OOC: ---​

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Matthew finally got his cat to stop following him by throwing it the rest of his toast and chasing it a couple feet. He knew it would find it's way home regardless.​

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Matthew put his iPod in his ears and listened to King Park a couple times during the walk. It was one of his personal favorite songs. Especially at the end. When he got closer to Mason's he decided to put on happier, cheerier songs to get him laughing and smiling.​

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When he got to Mason's house he didn't bother knocking on the door. At this point it was normal for him to do that, but just so Mason knew he was there, he whistled a very quick tune. He looked around the house and found him breaking down the plant. He blinked and then sighed, "I forgot to knock didn't I? Some day that is going to get me shot on spot."​

Mason was definitely the closest to a friend he was ever going to get, if he wasn't already one. He stopped with the "friend" label not too long ago just because it was one less label to deal with. Matt walked around with his hands in his pocket and leaned against the wall saying, "So are we playing another game of lets see how long it takes for our boss to notice we are baked or are we just going to home it wears off. Either way, I am on my last strike before I am... what did they use this job... 'let go for your own safety'."​

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One of the things that annoyed him about the manager at Mickey-D's was that the manager was often high or drunk at work, and was just forced to write up when he saw his employees doing it. Sometimes he just wanted to bring him a beer or a bowl and just hang with the manager, but he wasn't that desperate to become buddy buddies with the manager to keep his job. Although that may or may not have helped him out.​

 

His fingers twisted and plucked, pulling apart the sticky leaves from their place wrapped around the stems. He made two piles and discarded the stems and seeds in one while putting the smokable bud in the other. A couple minutes into, Mason heard the twist and click of his door opening and was startled but heard Matt's whistle and calmed down. "I forgot to knock didn't I? Some day that is going to get me shot on spot." Mason just let out a "Pft." and chuckled, reaching under the couch and pulling out Ol' Reliable, a bong that he'd kept with him from high school. Well, a reimagining of that one. The original was custom-blown glass done for him by his cousin. It was blue and had the swirling design of blood running down it. This one was a sort of s**tty remake Mason had done himself with some blue-colored clay and a cousin's (different one) kiln.

Mason eyed Matt for a second and nodded while he talked, laughing at the part about their boss. Simultaneously, he packed a bowl and set the bong on the table, nearly dropping it from Matt's other comment about being 'let go for his own safety'. Matt had a habit of making him do that, it was like they fed off each other's vibe. Mason's situation wasn't that great but Matt's seemed much worse, however all that seemed to fade when they got together. Like they could shed all of life's BS and just hang out.

"Hah! No way, they told you that?! Usually, I just hang in the freezer while it's slow. It kills the smell, plus I can get some phone service." He said, already giddy at Matt's presence. He motioned to a spot on the couch or the bean bag chair across from him for Matt to sit down and afterwards leaned down and poured the milk on his gargantuan bowl of cereal. "And I dunno, I don't think it's hard for them to notice we're WRECKED. It's ironic, I get so hungry but I'm so tired of McDonald's, I can't choke down another of those burgers."

After a beat, he decided to take the inagural hit himself and reached for the bong, automatically placing the circular opening around his mouth. The youth produced a lighter out of seemingly nowhere and tilted the flame on the edges of the bowl of green, sparking it. He pulled hard, making a bubbling noise emit from the pipe until he pulled up the carb and inhaled the smoke. This was the part that separated a seasoned smoker from a beginner. Mason put the carb back in and set the bong in front of Matt, afterwards getting up from his seat, all the while holding the smoke in. About 10 seconds passed before Mason exhaled, releasing a grandiose, swirling cloud of smoke out of his mouth. Then he started coughing. "Hit...COUGH COUGH...it...COUGH COUGH." He choked out, offering a weak smile.

 

Zane was on route to school after a rough start to his morning. His alarm clock chose today to be the day that it would simply not ring and let him sleep. Though since this has happened on more that one occasion, he was already prepared to make a rushed start his morning. All he needed was a plain piece of toast for breakfast and he was set.

The hurried pace of his footsteps came to a slow down as he notice the crowds of students heading to the school. This brought about a huge sigh of relief from his lips. Turns out that he didn't have to run at near full speed to get to school on time after all. Which made him glad that his first class was history and not something that would need much physical movement. So he could either rest his muscles or end up taking a nap, either was way beneficial to him.

He didn't bother to waste another second as he headed into the school gates and towards his class. As per usual the teacher was the last person there. While he always showed up before the bell rang, it soon became a good thing if you showed up before the teacher did. Zane chose to take a quick nap while everyone waited for the teacher. Assuming the bell didn't wake him up, someone else would when the teacher finally showed up.

 

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Her morning flew off to a smooth start despite her lack of sleep last night due to filling out the endless forms from the numerous clubs and activities as well as her hobby she goes to after school and on weekends. After taking a shower and dressing up, she quietly made her way down tot he dining room Not wanting to disturb her mother's sleep, she quickly grabbed her lunch she made last night and a banana before strolling out of her home. She could only wish that her mother could get out of bed one day.​

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At school, she was a double-sided figure. Being a president was big enough of her, but she's also a big talk throughout the school for her many achievements...and looks. There were those that respected and praised her and those that loath and despise her. It was about 50/50 between the girls and the guys that liked or hated her. In the end, she didn't care about their opinions. She does it for the greater good of her mother and wanting to be a better person in life. However, the 50% see it as just an excuse to act all arrogant and powerful in the school. Throughout her job as president, she faced many hardships such as lots of blackmail, achievement, and even heartbreaks. Many guys have asked her out, but she politely declined their offers though the guys always have to make it sound a lot worse than it has to be. It can't be helped. ​

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Eating her food and making her way to the large school grounds, business went about as usual. People hung out where they were supposed to, students are ready to get to class, and some talk about others here and there, usually bad stuff. Passing by the main hall, she could already hear words about her as well as some icy glares shot at her way. Opening up her locker, a bunch of paper fell out of it. Another common theme is her locker full of hate mail. She still cannot imagine how they didn't run out of paper yet or when they will give up on doing it. Shaking her head, she tossed them away and grabbed her books before heading down the crowded hallways. ​

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There, she heard someone falling followed by some laughs and concern. Examining closer, it was that one girl in the classroom. She always looked as if she hated the whole environment in the school. She couldn't blame her. Who the hell enjoys school? Well...anything but the academic part of it. She looked up at the clock. She had time before going to the office for her morning routine so she went into the classroom where the girl was. She rested her hand on her shoulder and gave her a small smile. "Everyone falls from time to time. You just have to know when to stand up and keep going." Noticing her hands, she pulled out a few band-aids and laid them on her desk before heading back out.​

 

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☄ ⎧DAY┊ Monday⎭ ❂ ⎧WEARING┊ Click⎭ ❂ ⎧OOC┊ $70 is a shitty 1/2 oz.⎭ ☄​

☄ ⎧TIME┊ 11:03 a.m.⎭ ❂ ⎧LOCATION┊ School⎭ ☄​

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While Anastasia sat in her classroom with her face in her textbook, someone approached her. She lifted her head to see the student body president standing over her. Her blue eyes narrowed at the other girl, knowing full well this wasn't her class at all. ❝Everyone falls from time to time. You just have to know when to stand up and keep going.❞ As Mya walked away, Anastasia scoffed.

Everyone filed into the classroom and the teacher, Mr. Lundtz, came walking in last. He readied the board for the beginning of class and took attendance. Anastasia sighed in annoyance and flipped open her notebook, tearing off the sheet of homework she scrambled to finish before getting to school in the morning.

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She stuffed her belongings into her locker at the end of third period and stalked off to the cafeteria for food. Anastasia got in line by herself, as she always did, and stood there quietly waiting for her turn to walk through. It was spaghetti day ( she hates spaghetti ) so a salad from the salad bar was selected instead. She wound her way through, entered in her account number to pay for the food and took a seat at the end of a long table. Her spell book was set down beside her tray and she had a pen sitting on top of it. She poured the dressing on the salad and flipped open the journal to a clean page. She needed to come up with some new attacks if she planned on destroying that ogre jerk the next time she saw him. Guys like him didn't deserve to participate. It wasn't fair to the rest of them.

Anastasia crammed a mouthful of ranch covered lettuce into her mouth and chewed furiously as her pen scribbled little notes in black ink. It was a ballpoint, so every time she stopped writing, a micro dot of ink pooled onto the pages. Her tome was filling up quickly and pretty soon she would need a new one. Every time she had to transfer all her spells over, it made her a little more and more sad. The older versions were kept in a box safely under her bed to look back on.

 

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Mya could almost feel the girl's eyes dig into her as she left. She was pretty sure she was one of the people who "despised" her. Whatever. Being nice can't help everyone. She made her way to the office and grabbed the ever so growing pile of club papers and shoved them in her bag. Why are people always having changes to their clubs? She made her way to her classroom and sat down as class was about to begin.

_​

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After class, she made her way to the lunch hall. Unlike many people, she brings her own lunch because some people think it's funny to add ingredients to the school food that she was dangerously allergic to. Last time, she almost died from one of those pranks. They were expelled, but she never trusted school food after that. Besides, school food sucks in general. Well this school food sucks, but not too sure about the others out there.

Sitting down, she opened her lunch container. It was a simple containment of rice, eggs, and some sort of meat. Due to her mother's illness, she had to make food for herself. Not a brilliant cook, she relied on simple meals and even buying food on the way home nowdays. Grabbing a fork, she munched on her food as she observed the ever so crowded hall. It was about the same on where people sat. One side had the sport jocks, another was the gossip girls, another was the tech people, and so on. She noticed the girl she talked to this morning at a lone table. She didn't look like the sociable type. She wondered what type of person she was.

While eating, a group of guys passed her. One "accidentally tripped on his shoelaces" and spilled tomato sauce all over her clothes. The one who dropped it put on a "mortified" face with a voice dripping in sarcasm. "Oh dear me! I'm so sorry for dropping my food on you President! Please forgive me!" Without waiting for a response, him and his friends laughed at her. "Not like you deserve it! Travis wanted me to do this! After all, you did break his heart to a point where he cried his eyes out."

Mya winced hearing that name. Travis was one guy who tried asking her out. She politely declined, but he just called her a lot of nasty things after her rejection. Seems like he made it sound a lot worse. "As I said, I politely rejected him. He's just making crap up. Followed by a bunch of his dimwitted friends who would believe that."

On that comment one of them grabbed her shirt and lifted Mya to her feet. "Listen 'President', we're tired of you overshadowing us and taking all the fame for yourself. I'd suggest you shut your mouth and fall back in line with the rest of us. We don't want a president and we never will need one. Come back to our level, and maybe you'll be accepted. Now go fill out more paperwork you tramp." On that note, they shoved her against the wall and left. As usual, not many people cared about the commotion since it happened pretty often here.

Sighing heavily, Mya grabbed her half-eaten lunch and packed it before heading off to the backroom to clean her clothes as much as possible. She always never changed her emotions in front of people like them. She was angry, but losing her cool could show a bad reputation. She didn't want that.

 

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Lunch time, and I realize only then just how eager my stomach actually is for the horrible food I've become so accustomed to from the Cafeteria. I begin to make my way there when I hear a commotion. I'll cut straight to the point. I'm a normal guy. I'm no hero. I'm not the sort of guy who would jump to the aid of a damsel unless I had to. ...Anymore.

Alright, I can't deny it. I'm not that much of an ásshole. I wouldn't ignore someone if I saw something unfair happening. Especially as I recognize the girl being brutally picked on. She's the Student Council President, and one of those who also goes to that... 'place'. The place I once was a part of.
My mind lingers on the bag that is now in my room... The old me wouldn't have hesitated. The other me wouldn't have wasted a second, but here I stand. I know I'm the worst type of guy as I stand here doing nothing just like the rest of them. But what can I do? It's none of my business really.

'The old you wouldn't have cared.'

Something within me chastises myself and I realize... Does being a normal guy mean I have to be ignorant?
...Spirits waver in front of my vision but I push them away and tear my sight back to the girl with sauce all over her once perfect uniform. Dammit... I'm the worst.
...I want to step forward, but I'm rooted in place all the same. When one of them grabs her shirt and lifts her to her feet. My fist is clenched so hard my knuckles are white. God damn it, Kato. What are you doing?!

'Some hero you are.'
I'm not a hero. Not anymore.

She's shoved into a wall, and I finally step forwards, but it's too late. They're already leaving. ...That wouldn't have stopped the old me. The me I left behind.
...I want to call out after them. I feel the need to do something reckless, but I'm cut off by... 'her' appearance.

Spoiler: Who "she" is:

She's walked past me, but I saw the look in her eyes. Disappointment.
Akira Kyudo... she was my last challenge before I left. She had made a deal with me back then. If she won, I'd stay in Leznaroth. If I won, she wouldn't dispute me leaving.
I somehow barely won. Obviously, that's why I'm standing here as I am today.
But now... I feel that I've lost. I've lost much.
That's what her eyes told me. She was thinking exactly what I was thinking, and more so, she knew I too was thinking it and yet still made myself be powerless when I myself had the power to try and do something.

My eyes followed after her and I realized that Council President Mya was gone. Akira had followed after.

~

Akira didn't know Mya that well. She just knew she was also from Leznaroth, but even if the girl hadn't been from Leznaroth like her, that wouldn't have changed Akira's current actions. She moved quickly away from Kato Shugo and followed after the President and into the back room.
For a moment as their eyes met, Akira said nothing.
Instead she produced a packet of wet wipes. She tended to keep a set in her locker in case of emergencies. She placed them down on the table before turning away. "You're proud, President. I admire how you care about your reputation. I know I don't know you that well, so forgive me if my comment seems over the line. But reputation aside, you are still a person. Elf or Human doesn't matter, you're a person. You're entitled to get angry." She opened the door and stepped out of the room without another word. The direction she went was that of the way those guys had gone.

 

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While Mya was searching through her bag for something to clean herself with, she noticed a girl following her. She was about to ask her if she came to mock her until she gave her a package of wipes followed by her comment.​

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"You're proud, President. I admire how you care about your reputation. I know I don't know you that well, so forgive me if my comment seems over the line. But reputation aside, you are still a person. Elf or Human doesn't matter, you're a person. You're entitled to get angry."​

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When the girl left, Mya sighed and pulled out one wipe and started to clean her shirt as best as she could. I-I'm more thankful than you think I am. I really am grateful of you caring for me, but I wish you didn't get involved in this. I don't want others to be a target when it's meant for me. Managing to get most of the sauce off her shirt, though it left a nasty red blotch on her shirt, she packed up the rest of the wipes and grabbed her bag, making her way to the Student Council room. She always carried a spare shirt in there. ​

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Making her way there, she wasn't still safe from the slurs from students. Especially some of them seriously mocking her.​

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"Hey President! You're not important enough to be a target of an assassin! Not even a beggar would kill you for a million dollars!"​

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"I know you're a girl and stuff and have your thing once a month, but please contain it! You're is just explosive."​

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Laughter. Tasteless jokes. It meant nothing to her. She eventually made her way to the council room and exhaled heavily, leaning against the wall. Besides half of the school, the council members were also the only people that didn't mock her. She grabbed the spare shirt in there and changed her tops. She packed her stained clothes and made her way back to the lunch room, making sure that the next 'accident' won't be tolerated with her calm attitude.​