The Forgotten- Semi-Lit Roleplay. [Now open for posting!]

[Terra Dragon]

Still, that little instinctual voice in the back of his heart told him to fear, but the old man just nodded in agreement with Sonja's statement. "Yes, it is rather.... silly, to look at. I've always thought it'd look better painted with polka dots and stripes." He cracked a wrinkled smile at this little joke, and after a moment, turned about, strolling almost briskly off, the late spring breeze giving his frail old body a younger feeling. By the way he was walking, the obvious message was that he' leave them in the dust if they didn't follow up along behind him.

[Mercurian]

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," lied Hunter, having no idea what the post office looked like until now. He caught a glimpse of Talon the hawk, his current companion, peering out from the leaves of an old oak. "Hey! No! Stay back!" he growled softly, gesturing with his hands the motions of shooing the bird away. He cleared his throat. "So...why do you want to go to the post office, stranger?"

[crimsonmansion]

“So much of your country’s architecture is too…’Roman’…it vuld be gut to see something more American.” One would assume from his tone that Christolph loathed anything stylized after Ancient Rome, but the burly man had his reasons. Dropping his voice a bit as if speaking more to himself he added: “I hope it is at least more orderly than its appearance.” His shielded eyes gazed over into the amber orbs of a hawk perched in a sacred oak as Hunter motioned for it to remain stationary; taking it as a good omen.

A slight smirk crossed his lips when David started wheeling off like a geriatric war machine, and he gladly followed; although he leisurely strolled, his stride was still enough to keep up. With his head slightly tilted towards Hunter, he measured the questioned slowly before responding in a low voice. “I do not know vhy I am here…und I vill get mein answers from there.” Although Christolph felt like he should have elaborated on the whole ‘memory loss’ to try and gleam answers about the time period, he didn’t trust Hunter enough quite yet. However, he would at least throw out some bait and see how it went. “I know vot you are…und you certainly know vot I am by now. Are ve alone in this town, or are there more….people like us here?”

[Terra Dragon]

((I would post, but I really have nothing to have David do. Mayhaps Hunter has something to say back to Christolph...?))

[Wildmagic_warrior]

"People like who?" inquired Max, who had been eavesdropping from a few steps behind. Sonja elbowed her in the ribs, and she frowned a her friend. "What?" "Shut up!" hissed Sonja quietly. "It's rude to ask people stuff like that." Max stuck her tongue out at Sonja and asked, "What are you, my mother?" Scowling, Sonja said, "Not a chance. I am, however, like you have often mentioned, half dragon. I'm not human- in fact, I doubt you are." Max rolled her eyes. "I'm human," she said, "Through and through. Believe me, sometimes I wish I wasn't. It'd be so cool to be a hybrid, like, half fox, or something."

[Tatterdemalion]

FORM
Username: Bearcoon
Character Name: Madeava Nightshade
Nickname [if any]: Maddie or Deva, though she's never been called them before.
Age: Twenty-One Years
Gender: Female
Species: Typical Human
Personality: Life has taught Madeava one lesson, at least one important one. People cannot be trusted, no matter what they look like, say, or do. She is convinced to the very fiber of her being that she is the only one she can ever trust. Depending on another person is near on murder to her, she's sure she'll die. When in the presence of another human being (or other) she's tense beyond belief, always watching, almost waiting for something to go wrong. With women it may not be so bad, perhaps after time a relationship might actually form, but men may as well be the devil.
Once one has broken down all these self protective barriers, Madeava is not so terrible to be around. She may have an odd sense of humour, given to her by her grandmother, and an also very odd sense of how things ought to be, but she's the type of simple that is a refreshing compared to most. She has trouble getting things into words, often making conversations harder to hold, but she'll get there eventually. All she needs is time when it comes to most things, then the possibilities may well be endless.

History: As cliché as everyone knows it is, Madeava was infact born on a dark and stormy night. The attributes of a story book character continued on since then as her mother had finally returned home, unfortunately for the very last time. Madeava was born in her grandmother's simple little house in the middle of a swamp not far from a nondescript town, her mother dying moments afterwards. This never seemed to bother her though, finding herself content to live with her grandmother and no one else.The where abouts of her father were never known, Madeava's mother having run off at a rather young age and only returning to bring her daughter into the world. This too never phased Madeava, not even sure why anyone would find that important. The swamp, her grandmother, and their adventures there were the only thing that ever mattered and ever would. Or so though the then fourteen year old girl.
Madeava had seen her grandmother's death coming, the woman being old but determined to see Madeava to adulthood. Madeava choose to ignore it, thinking that the stubborn woman would get her way in the end. There was no such luck. Grandmother died that miserable night, leaving Madeava completely on her own. It shocked the girl more than maybe even she realized, leaving her a broken mess for near on a week afterward. By that time her mind had pieced together a solution for itself. She would have to leave the swamp and find someone to take her in. Though she knew plenty of the swamp and it's mysteries, she knew she could not brave them alone.
Doing exactly that she set out to the afore mentioned town, full of trepidation and worry, but her mind had been made up. From there the townsfolk eventually passed her along to an orphanage in the farther off city, finding no one to look after her in their own small community. Her melodramatic life continued on in exactly that pattern, the orphanage's directors soon finding they had been given quite the little nut case. The girl told strange stories, frightening stories, stories that certainly no normal child would tell. She had no regard for personal space, no regard for practically anything at all. Madeava was insane, they were sure of it.
The asylum was nothing at all what she expected, being told they would be better suited to help poor unsuspecting Madeava. Instead, it may well have been hell on earth. (glossing over for graphic/disturbing stuffs). She never did escape, but she did learn how to appear normal and not was her saving grace. At the age of eighteen she was allowed to leave, with papers to prove it. No money in her pockets and only tattered clothes on her malnourished frame, Madeava was dead set on returning home. Back to the swamp and never to leave again.

Detailed Description [no pictures!]:On the short side, which annoys her to no end. If a number had to be put on it she would hazard a guess at 5'3, but she hasn't bothered to worry about that in a while.
Her Auburn hair always seems to splay out in odd angles or flop in her pale green eyes. Usually though, it is held back by the crimson scarf worn around her head. The thing has become a bit of a security blanket when Madeava takes the odd excursion to town, her way of hiding in plain sight.
Because of her life being either in the swamps or inside some building deprived of light, she is pale. This only serves to further her reputation in the village as some sort of ghost or banshee. Her face is usually forlorn, with an age about it that is beyond her years. If perhaps she would smile it might be pretty, but there rarely is one.
Her normal garb is a emerald green dress, stopping just at her ankles, and a large leather over coat trimmed with some kind of fur. Her heavy black boots are always mud spattered, as is the rest of her.
Original Roleplay [name and link, please]: Simply called 'The Epic RP' – Off site and the forum is members only. The gist of it was following the typical fantasy story pattern, and Madeava played the reluctant hero.

[Mercurian]

Hunter was wary of the vampire and was silently furious at Talon for revealing himself; now this Christolph knew more about him. Knowledge was dangerous... Using motions, he signaled to the vampire, "I'm sure you know about the half-dragon, but I don't think she knows about our...unique...species yet," tilting his head slightly toward Sonja and circling his finger at his side, indicating himself and Christolph. Using more hand gestures, he signaled, "Are you peaceful?" He would've whispered, but the two girls were right behind him and they had already picked up Christolph's question. He would judge the vampire's allegiance by his reply. Timing, tone, and body language was everything, and that was a werewolf's specialty.

[crimsonmansion]

“Outsiders.” Christolph responded quickly to Max’s inquiry; finding it the most logical reasoning without sounding too absurd. Had Christolph been more of a professional liar (not to mention fluent in the culture), he would have suggested that they were simple Anime enthusiasts meeting up for some random convention…that would at least have given some sort of Cosplay excuse to their appearances. He was however at a loss of providing any other reasonable explanations, so instead Christolph left his response at that one word and turned to look at Hunter.

The burly German’s experience in the military served him well in deciphering the hand gestures of the lycan; taking in every motion and expression carefully before conducting his response. What he gestured was the following: ‘I take peace when it is handed to me, but when the hand brings war I will raise my fist and embrace that as well. I stand in this world to protect the small and weak, I do not harm the innocent. I feast upon those that are evil.’ He finished up that sentence by pointing to himself, bringing a hand to his mouth as if biting an apple, making fangs with his fingers, waving a hand to symbolize ‘all’, and then made devil horns with his index and pinky fingers. He hoped that Hunter understood his motions…and that he was the only one that could read it.

OOC:: I hope you get accepted Bearcoon! It would be fun to have more people ^_^

[Wildmagic_warrior]

[Bearcoon is accepted ^^ Sorry I haven't been on much- studying for midterms and such ><]

Sonja and Max watched from behind as the burly man brought his hands up to his head and made horns with his pinky fingers. "What is he doing?" whispered the human to Sonja. The halfling shrugged, still watching. "I have no idea," she whispered back. "Maybe he's crazy?"

[Tatterdemalion]

((OOC:: Thanks :3 Could I possibly get a bit of a recap? ))