〓ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴇʏᴇs〓Replies: 5 / 15 days 3 hours 1 minutes 2 seconds
- [Allowed] souldreamer
[center [pic https://data.whicdn.com/images/338998627/original.gif]]
[left [pic https://i.imgur.com/hfx2ErT.png?2]][size22 ❏]
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 [b there's a place in the world known as [#cc5500 the forbidden city]]
[tab] [tab] blocked off from the rest of the world after what was
[tab] [tab] [tab] known as the [b war to end all wars], to which a perfect society had been formed
[tab] [tab] [tab][tab] [b [#cc5500 she]] is a young woman who works in a mental institution, tending to those deemed [#cc5500 [I dangerous]]
[tab] [tab] [tab] [tab][tab] threats to the [#cc5500 utopia] that had been created
[tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [b he] is a [#cc5500 patient] in the institution, a homeless person scooped off the streets
[tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] ran by those known as the [#cc5500 Order], strict on an orderly society
[tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] but when these two meet, [#cc5500 she] finds herself beginning to question
[tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] [tab] whether they were keeping the world out, or whether the world was keeping them [#cc5500 in]
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[center [font "century gothic" [b _◢◣_]]]
[right [pic https://i.imgur.com/hfx2ErT.png?2]][I [center [font "century gothic" [b [size25 r u l e [#cc5500 s]]]]]]
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 [b •so] this is a magic rp; basically the war ended in a truce. the magic folk were banished to be imprisoned and the use of magic was outlawed.
[center [tab] [tab] [b [#cc5500 the Order]] were magic folk who gave up their magic for money and control of this city: [b [#cc5500 Eisland]]. the people in the institution have powers and are thought of as 'crazy' by society.
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 [tab] [tab][b [#cc5500 now your character]] can have magic or maybe had a family member who had magic. either way, essentially she learns of this deceit and breaks him out - from there it becomes cat and mouse - open plot : this is highkey [b [#cc5500 steampunk vibes]] keep in mind
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 [b •do expect romance] im sorry ;-; ya girl always down for a lil' love
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 •mature themes including: [b violence, cursing, intimacy - timeskipped but briefly explained in writing depending on comfort]
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 [b •doesn’t matter] how much you write, just give me [i something] to work with and please don’t write more than you have to
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 [b •don’t copy my posts.] please push the story forward, world build if you can; I understand writer's block but it’s harder for me to construct a post if you literally just rewrote my post and added one piece of dialogue. this story is supposed to flesh out our character's lives and bring realism to their falling in love
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 •[b this is important]: I need someone who takes no longer than 3 days to post. the main reason im making these rps is because i need a distraction. it gets boring not having someone consistent to write with
[center [font "century gothic" [size10 [b •communicate;] I work full time so i understand having a life and being busy. you don’t have to message me every day, but if I don’t hear from you for a week im just deleting the thread. there's no need to force a story
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“Maddox,” he said as he looked up at her before repeating it again several times under his breath. Vermont brushed his hand through his hair then before turning his attention to the meal. It was usually the same each week, each day differed however, and Vermont had come to know what to expect by now. This morning was an egg omelet, sausage, and a very sad looking two stack of pancakes. He drizzled the syrup on it, taking a bite of microwaved eggs. He was surprised that she was still there. Vermont paused in his eating and turned toward her.
“Vermont.” He said to her simply. Most of the orderlies treated them as though they were [I others]. For some, their first times could be intimidating and there were some patients that were a bit wild. They had lost any shred of who they were and what made them: their powers. Vermont could only hope that he would be able to maintain his power – he had plans to break out soon. Where he would go, he had no clue. He knew though that once he escaped if he was found, it wouldn’t be his choice to keep his power and very well it was likely he would lose his life.
His eyes looked toward the wall before looking back to her. He figured maybe she had a trouble looking him in the eye. “Later.” He said simply before turning his back to her and finishing his meal. He was thrown off by her admittedly, shifting in his seat then. She had changed his routine, not being the normal woman who brought his breakfast, but it was something he could get used to.
“Maddox,” he whispered, surprised at how her name flowed off his tongue so easily, his eyes closing. Why did he feel so familiar with her? He’d finished breakfast and had busied himself with a little bit of outside time. It was only so long before he returned to his room. Lunch time was always when things got rowdy and it made it hard for him to think. He huddled in the corner, pulling out his marker to which he always stole from the rec room and began to write on the wall. Something about Maddox had set off a fire in him, and he found himself coming up with new spells.
She considered the short sentence that he uttered when she first stepped into the room. [+crimson “Yeah, recently started.”] He probably had been here for awhile if he so easily knew the faces of someone new compared to the seasoned staff. Though maybe it helped she was one of the younger faces.
[+crimson “Maddox.”] she replied warmly. His voice was deep, oddly soothing. She was surprised, he looked... normal. He couldn’t be that much older or younger than her if at all. It’s seemed strange to her that he was in a place such as this. [+crimson “What about you? What can I call you?”] genuinely curious about what the young mans name was.
The words on the walls didn’t feel as piercing as they had once she focused on this conversation more. [+crimson “It’s nice to meet you. Is there anything else you need this morning?”] Maddox, of course, wasn’t sure why this man was here but regardless he didn’t seem like a bad person. More just tired. Maybe lonely. She wanted to work here even against her parents wishes because she wanted to help. Maybe give a better life for the people in the institution. Or even help some recover from illnesses through proper care and medication. Isn’t that what the goal is supposed to be for those that just need some help? After all this is an institution not a [i jail house].
She knew soon she would have to leave this room and check on the next resident. As much as she wanted to stay, maybe work up the nerve to ask about the writing on the walls. Maybe some other time she would have the opportunity. [+crimson “I’ll be back later for the tray”] she said starting to position herself to leave. The weird pull to the walls returning to her head almost in the form of white noise in the background.
Breakfast. Breakfast first. Everyday here was so predictable and Vermont always timed it perfectly. He was at three hundred when the doorknob turned and in walked an orderly. He was caught off guard then by the woman who stormed in like a fire set to a trail of gasoline. This was unusual – she was not the same greying old woman who usually delivered his meal. He felt a pang in his head. This was usual considering he hadn’t had anything to eat as of yet and he’d been up late. Usually it was supposed to be lights out and the night shift would check in regularly, but Vermont had timed every check in perfectly so as not to be caught, doing the [I forbidden]. This to which drained a lot of his energy. He noticed how she paused and accounted for the seconds. She looked [I lost].
Edging away from the wall he walked over to the small table and chair to which she had placed the food. Of course, there was his medication sitting there. He had learned very early not to take it, it made his mind fuzzy and eventually those who had been sent here under false pretenses really did begin to lose their mind. Usually the orderly watched them take the medication, but she was distracted and he had used it to his advantage. Vermont placed the pills into his pockets; a simple pair of black slacks to match the black long sleeve that most of the patients wore – those who were considered low risk at least.
Her smile was nice and honestly it was relieving to see such genuine joy outside of the monotone expressions of the other staff – moving the patients around like old cattle, waiting for the moment they eventually drove themselves to death.
“You’re new.” He said simply, and it was strange to hear his voice out loud as Vermont usually didn’t talk – his words floated around in his head. “What’s your – “ He frowned then, lately his memory wasn’t as good – maybe it had something to do with his lack of being social. “Your call? Your name?” He finally managed to get out. His voice was deep, his mother used to often joke that it reminded him of rumbling thunder. He tried not to think of his parents so often though. Though those good memories served to make him happy on his gloomiest days. He could feel his hands burning then, new people bore new thoughts into his magic.
Hands glided to the back of her head as she pulled the ends of her hair out from under the shirt she had just put on. The young woman let her hair fall from her hands, the flame red curls landing randomly about. Maddox studies her reflection in the mirror for a second before smoothing her hair into a ponytail. A better hairstyle for work her mother had told her.
The sound prevalent in her home was the hands of the analog clock move. She wanted to make sure that she made it to work on time. Even a slight delay could result in a meeting with her superior. Efficiency was held in high regard in Eisland. Looking around one would not be able to see the scars of war on the surface. It was a show of how terrorism did not win out. Eisland was greater than any radicals.
She hurried out the door grabbing her purse and jacket as she left. It was a short commute to work thankfully. Soon in front of her stood the building few wanted to enter. Her parents had actually worked to found the mental institution- both being employees of Eisland’s government.
[+crimson “Good morning Ainsley.”] Maddox greeted the petite brunette behind the desk. [+orchid “Right on time.”] a bell-like voice answered. [+orchid “They have us working B-wing today, how about you start with handing out breakfast.”] Nodding Maddox made her way to the locker room wasting no time in changing into appropriate scrubs for work. Then getting the cart for the breakfast. Maddox hasn’t been in b-wing yet but what she did know that the residents there were considered low risk. Most of them being not quite all there anymore it seemed.
She grabbed one of the covered trays of food. Knocking on the door before unlocking it, [+crimson “Good morning I have your breakfast here.”] she stepped fully in the room. Something made her lose her words when she entered the room. There was a young man in it who looked around her age but that’s not really what took her aback it was the writing. Something about the words caused a fuzziness in her thoughts. She shook it away letting her typical smile return to her face. [+crimson “I’ll set it down here.”] she gestured to the table finally pulling her eyes away from the writing on the walls.
It was only three years after the war had ended and it was amazing to see the changes that had been made in the city of Eisland. The streets were clean, buildings well maintained with no sense of graffiti. Everything was uniformed – well maintained – every building and home the same. The city had proper structure now, it had order. A uniformed place where stepping out of line resulted in spending time in jail. A long time. The aftermath was nice, everyone was surely happy and things seemed to be going well. You’d think so if you were there during the [I before]. War was hard and the damage it had done to many of the civilians who lived through it couldn’t be erased and forgotten by a few new parks. Beautifying the city would not have erased the memories. Though, not many people talked of that time. Better to move on and think of the future.
Vermont found that hard to do. He recalled the bombings, the raids into homes and the bodies left in the streets – the curfews and even worse, being kicked out of his home. The first time he heard the voice he was three, but like many young kids, he thought it was him having an overactive imagination. Yet, so young – he did not register the brief fear in his mother’s eyes when he told her as concern and fear. The voice would come to him every now and then, a soft and raspy voice, usually a jumble of words that he didn’t understand. Sometimes though it would be a clear voice, to which he would be given directions. He’d ignored them, but when he was in highschool, he had started to experiment with these thoughts. Vermont was an outsider, the freak of the school that just didn’t fit in anywhere. Though being six foot and lanky, it wasn’t that hard for him to stand out.
He was seventeen when he was in his bedroom, his hand extended outward, repeating the words that he heard in his mind and watching as a bright blue flame grew in his palm. He stared in amazement that night – trying to grasp just what was going on. He’d read about this type of stuff, of course, but that was fantasy. He’d no clue that there were others like him that were born into the world of magic: a world that for the longest had gone unnoticed. Though that didn’t last for long.
Vermont had managed to locate a group of other magic folk and that was when he learned the tale of the [I Rising]. The moment the magic folk of the world would come out from hiding and use their power to take over. Vermont’s family life had never been good and he’d been bullied all of his life. The moment his parents learned of what he was and kicked him out, he joined the Rebellion.
When the war ended, most of the magic folk had been killed or imprisoned – their magic stripped. Those who were willing to voluntarily give up their magic were allowed to remain in society, to raise families, but never speak of what happened. To the civilians, the government at the time made sure to keep the talk of magic out of the war. They were cut off from radio broadcasts – their newspapers filtered. To them, it was simply a fight with [I terrorist].
Vermont had only managed to escape by the help of a friend. Though with no home and no money, he found himself on the streets. The first step of initiative for the Order was cleaning up the city and that meant getting rid of the homeless, forcing them into an institution where they were left to waste away.
That’s where Vermont found himself. Stuck in a small room, walls covered with his writing, one of the few personal traits to give any idea into who he was. Silver eyes stared up at the ceiling, his lips moving as he counted – landing on one hundred just as the lights kicked on. Time to start his day.
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