◘|Mαƨզʋɛяα∂ɛ|◘{Semi-Lit/Lit Roleplay, O&A}

[Harpy•]

{{Accepted, thanks for joining! And, we'll start after just a couple more people; is that alright with all y'all? xD}}

[ossa di cervo]

((Fine by me. It'll give me time to create da man. ))

[Kites]

{{Free bump :3}}

[Kites]

{{Another freebie}}

[Harpy•]

{{Lol Bump >.< Hey guys, if no one joins by the next time I get on, I'll go ahead and start. ^.^}}

[ossa di cervo]

((Yay! ))

[Kites]

{{Bump }}

[Harpy•]

In F i r e l e a f, the M a s k s live in the s h a d o w s.

◘~*~◘

Damon opened his eyes wearily, beginning to get sick of this unchanging life. Waking up, making sure you haven't been discovered, double checking every cover, triple checking, and repeating a final time. No mistakes could be made in this town, nothing could be 'slipped-up' on, for penalty of death. If your facade was broken, you were dead; as simple as that. Fireleaf didn't tolerate difference or strangeness. But that's all he and the other Firemasks were; different and strange.
After many years of hidden searching and secret exchanges, Damon, the founder of this unique group, pulled together all of its members under the cover of night, finally meeting with them, organizing. They were all sworn to secrecy, which wasn't entirely necessary; being discovered would result in death anyway. Everything resulted in death in the town of Fireleaf. Everything.
Damon sat up on the bed of his picture-perfect countryside home, his eyes dull and dark, tired. He rubbed a hand over his face, sighed deeply, and then stood, reaching down towards his bedside table for the ornate item that lay upon it. His mask; the symbol of his ability, the hope he had and created for the small town, for his team. Everyone had one; they each made it themselves whenever they could, using their inner gift to create the design, using their personalities to color it.
Damon's was solidly built and thick, simply designed in most aspects, except for the brow. The etching there was of tightly coiled anacondas, their muscles contracted and showing clearly through the surprisingly detailed scales of gray-brown. Only one snake's head was showing, this one slightly off to the left, staring out at the world through faintly-glittering, emerald green, slitted eyes.
He set the mask back onto the table again, then looked up to the window that lay behind his bedframe, staring blankly out at the gloriously brilliant autumn colors outside. This is supposedly where Fireleaf got its name; for the iridescent, glowing crimson leaves that grew on most of the trees during the Fall. Damon and the others knew that there was a different reason, somehow; one clue to the secret they had to discover.
He changed out of his lack of shirt and gray sweats, into a faded pair of Levi's and a white Hanes t-shirt; his usual facade outfit. No one wore black unless they were at a funeral or in mourning, which lasted for exactly two and a half months, no longer than that. If you wore anything black even a day beyond it, you were put to death. But this never happened; Fireleaf's citizens were...brainwashed, in a way. Never did anything that Fireleaf wanted them to.
There was no central authority that Damon could identify in Fireleaf. It was like the town governed itself, like it had no human guidance. But he hadn't proved it; there was no way to do so, not yet.
Damon moved to the front door of his cottage-like house after slipping on a sweatshirt that adorned the logo of the local Fireleaf collage, then opened it, stepping out into the crisp, cool breeze of the Autumn morning. He always went on a walk in the morning, part of his facade routine, but also part of his system to clear his mind, to think for himself. He used this time to contemplate the Firemasks' problems, what information they'd gathered, when they would next meet, and how they would do it. Being the founder had many responsibilities, but the team was incredibly self-sufficient; if Damon died for any reason, it would be able to continue on without him. He hated to think about that, but it was possible. He purposefully made it look like he was the leader, so that if they were discovered, Fireleaf would kill him only, and hopefully spare the rest of the team. He wouldn't be able to take it any other way.

[Kites]

Tamesis Daniel Williams
Tamesis lay still in his bed. Another nightmare. The terror was clutching at his chest, restricting his breathing. He sat up shakily, and ran a hand through his hair. His breath came out as a light fog, and he instantly knew that Morgan had too a nightmare. He lay back down and pulled the covers over his inked chest, trying to keep himself warm. It was stupidly cold, although he couldn't bear to wake Morgan up. He hated disturbing people. The bed springs creaked as a large wolf grew next to Tamesis. It snuggled up next to him, sharing its body heat. The ink black wolf shared Tamesis's eyes, a deep green colour. His body heating up, Tamesis breathed easy once more, his mind still half asleep. His eyes fell on the window, and he sighed inwardly. Another day. He rolled over, away from the window, and his eyes fell on his mask. He reached forwards to take it from the bedside table, but retracted his arm quickly. Stuffing it back under the covers to heat it back up, he frowned, worrying for Morgan. The wolf stood up, and nudged the back of Tamesis's neck before jumping off the bed with a slight pad of its paws on the wooden floorboards. It nosed its way through the partially open door, and Tamesis soon heard it open the other door down the hallway. He loved his sister dearly, but she needed to control her emotions when she was asleep. One day, I'll wake up as an icicle, thought Tamesis grimly.

Morgan Eva Williams
So empty, nothingness. All gone. Darkness. She was scared, so scared. A light appeared behind her, and she turned to see her parents together in the distance. She started to run towards them, but the light was burning her. She couldn't get closer, she was being pulled backwards, backwards into the dark loneliness. She cried out desperately, a hand outstretched to her parents who were screaming in agony. Fire licked at their skin, covering them in orange flame. There must be something she could do, to save them and herself. But there was nothing. She couldn't save them. As they melted before her eyes, she let the darkness take her, its cold hands on her skin. She was falling, the ice around her growing real. Then, warmth reached her side, and she opened her eyes.
Turning over in her bed, her eyes fell on the ice covered black wolf, with dark green eyes. She looked at it for a second, the air growing steadily warmer, before she wrapped her arms around it, her shoulders heaving in silent dry crying. The wolf licked her cheek affectionately, and she buried her face into its fur, trying to rid herself of the dream. It had been so vivid, so real. The ice was melting off her belongings, the water evaporating so everything was dry once more. She sat up, her face expressionless. The wolf watched her for a few more seconds, before heading back to Tamesis's room to give her some privacy. She got out of bed, and walked to the mirror. There she was, her long light brown hair messy, her eyes bleary and tired. The mask that was reflected in the mirror caught her eye, and she turned around to take it off the bedside table. The fine twisted metal was warm in her hands, and she placed it over her face, hiding her. The lack of identity was somehow calming. No one could know who she was, she reassured herself, although she knew this wasn't true. Everyone knew the Firemasks. And yet the symbol of the masks was that the wearer was to remain anonymous. That was how she pictured it in her mind. A fleeting image of a large ball, packed with dancing, twirling people. The ladies extravagant dresses glittered in the light, the men’s suits done up magnificently. They danced with their unknown partners, some of whom would remain a mystery forever.
The image vanished as she blinked.

[Kites]

{{Bump? :3}}