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Messages - Moth

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1
Introductions, birthdays, and departures. / Happy Birthday Monster!
« on: August 20, 2018, 11:06:04 AM »
Happy Birthday to MonsterManic, one hell of a stellar dude that's been a great friend since I joined the site. Directly responsible for the completion of several characters, a great teammate on Casanova, and a writer I always look forwards to reading. Thanks for everything, man.

2
Beacon Academy / Re: Big Game Hunting [Closed]
« on: August 18, 2018, 11:37:43 AM »
Jima so enraptured in her new weapon that she barely notices someone running headfirst into her back, only twisting when she hears a familiar voice. Turning her head to glance over her shoulder confirms her suspicions, giving a grin to the short newcomer. "Smokey, long time no see! Yeah, this is-"

She barely gets the first sentence out before someone else approaches the two standing in the middle of the courtyard. Her nickname for Smokey makes Jima snort, and her characteristic snort just grows into a mischievous smirk as she asks if the two of them are dating. "Jima Purpora. And excuse you, it's fiance, not girlfriend. We're going to wed this summer, it'll finally end the blood feud that's been happening between our families for centuries. Isn't that right, dear?" She clearly jokes, glancing to Smokey.

Regardless of whether or not Smokey runs with the joke, two more curious students approach, both complimenting her handiwork. That earns both of them a blinding grin flashed in their direction, and Jima crosses her arms as she gazes proudly at her creation. "This beauty here wad designed and built by yours truly, thank you very much! Her name's Requiem, though right now she's technically in her Alpha configuration. Fully capable hoverboard with the classic three-crystal motor, only amped up in scale and size. She's capable of limited flight, high-powered dust effects, aaand," She steps forwards, yanking a drawstring on the side of the motor on the hilt. The sword immediately roars to life with one pull, before settling into a heavy purr as the blade of the sword opens up, a chain locking into place as it begins to rotate. "Inbuilt chainsaw!

"I only really got her up and working, and I'm about to take her out for a field test." She explains, affectionately patting the motor. "I know this good Grimm spot a bit of a ways into the Emerald Forest and was gonna take her there - if you're all interested in seeing her work and feel like killing some large Grimm, feel free to tag along."

3
To put it simply, this match had drawn Prism to edge of her seat. Literally. Once Smokey had smashed through the ice with Calen, Prism had sprung to her feet. The hyperactive hummingbird faunus was literally at the barrier of the arena, bouncing on her heels with her hands on the wall as she watched with baited breath as she'd watched the two disappear underneath the water, then a third as Billy followed, and then finally a fourth as Setsuna himself dived. To say the entire arena had been on edge hadn't been inaccurate - it's not everyday the action's literally taken where the cameras couldn't follow.

All they could do is stare at the hole in the ice, and steadily watch the aura counter on the side of the ring tick downwards.

She'd burst out cheering for the fledgling knight when Setsuna had reemerged from the icy water with Billy in his arms, dumping the woman on the sidelines before diving back in after Calen. Watching Calen literally shoot out of the water like a cork had made actually make him snort, and some dark part of her had found a certain amount of vindictive joy in watching Calen be used like a baseball bat - but he'd managed to stop it short with his semblance, leaving Prism to bury that weird feeling with her loud cheering for her friends.

She could at least wince in sympathy as Smokey attempted one last all-out attack, watching him knock himself unconscious with his own gun. She'd managed to get a concussion with it in it's normal form, she knew the gun's kick - she could only imagine how badly that hurt while in volleygun form. Calen's last few clumsy swipes combined with the wide spread of Matchstick just kicked Billy's aura into the red, and with a loud cheer the hummingbird faunus had literally leaped out of her seat, her updraft kicking in and hovering several feet above the stadium as the victory went to Aztec. Winning was fun, but it was even better to see her friends win.

Now all she needed to do was go congratulate the two on their winnings, maybe take them some hot chocolate, and casually rub Calen's face in the fact he spent most of the match clinging like a burr to Smokey.

4
She's beating him out an inch at a time, only a foot or so from the lava pit when he opens his mouth to... compliment her? A confused expression mares her face for barely a second as he looks down towards the lava pit and opens his mouth again, before her eyes grow wide - fuck, his semblance!

She twists the neck of the mace to deactivate the grappling hook just in time to yank it away from the following splash of lava, rapidly backpedaling as she tries to avoid the sprawl. It's not enough to avoid it all though - a glowing globlet hits her arm, immediately followed by squeal of pain as she practically yanks off the leather jacket to avoid being burned further. No longer protected by her aura, the lava begins to sizzle burn a hole through the fabric. There's a moment of pause as she throws it to the side and watches the smoke rise, before fixing a death glare on Rufus as she reaches for her ammo belt as she begins to reload with red-colored shells. "You owe me a new jacket."

Jima's Combat Stats:
Aura: 62% (-10% on contact, -5% x 2 while stripping off the jacket)
Goliath: Reloading

5
Everywhere Else / Re: Coffee and friends are the perfect blend [closed]
« on: August 15, 2018, 10:14:05 PM »
Prism's not going to lie, she's not the biggest fan of Atlas.

Well, that's not true. It was always a dream to travel internationally, and thanks to the Vytal Tournament she'd finally gotten the chance to see the world beyond Vale. It was awesome being immersed in another country's culture, seeing all the local landmarks and trying the best streetfood. Hell, it was pretty cool seeing another country's hunter academy, and comparing what they had here to Beacon.

It just had to be Atlas though.

Where she couldn't enter certain shops because of the feathers that grew along her neck, or otherwise risk being refused service. Where she needed to hide the massive pair of wings on her back underneath a thick bomber jacket in order to avoid dirty glares in the street. Where she needed to ritualistically pluck the fledgling feathers that tried to grow in around her neck. Where the oppressive atmosphere was nearly so stifling it almost wasn't worth venturing outside, other than her matches for the tournament.

Thankfully, it was only almost.

Which was why she'd taken up Kisha's offer made mid-match and gone to meet her for coffee. It'd been a bit of a challenge to find the place - it's not like she could've just flown there as normal - so after a few wrong directions and an asking a local, she'd managed jog up only 5 minutes early instead of her usual 10. "Hey, Kisha! I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

6
Beacon Academy / Re: Introduction to Advanced Aura [Closed]
« on: August 14, 2018, 04:19:54 PM »
Prism pauses her notetaking through Malina's demonstration of what you could do with the advantage of expanded aura pools, actually staring with a minor look of awed wonder on her face. Prism's capable of some fancy tricks with her aura, and she's still attempting to learn it's other common offensive uses, but that - that was something she'd never seen before. As the can hits the ground, she flips the page in her notebook and begins to rapidly scribble another page of notes - recording everything the TA said.

The sudden sound of Malina launching the can makes Prism visibly start, her gaze snapping to the sight of the can embedded in the ceiling while her spare hand reaches for the back of her belt. She stares for a moment after seeing it's just a can, watching a bit of drywall crumble to the floor, before releasing a silent breath and bringing her hand back around. Right, it's not like that would've done much anyways - she doesn't carry Hawk's Eye to class, anyways.

Prism doesn't really bother to raise her hand anymore, just launching into her next questions. "So step one is to sacrifice a piece of your soul in order to raise your overall aura pool. Step two is the application of that expanded aura pool, which allow for essentially a limitless possibility of different tricks. So what's step three then, and exactly how many steps to this process are there?"

7
Beacon Academy / Re: Stargazing [Open]
« on: August 14, 2018, 11:18:50 AM »
"...Calen, in what twisted universe would you consider that equality?" Prism asks, sounding legitimately concerned. "That's not justice in any sense of the word, that's just fucking horrible. The kid obviously should've faced some form of retribution, but like - in the form of jail time or something. And the concept of taking revenge on innocents is abhorrent, especially if they weren't the ones to stoke the actions of that kid. There's just- so many other factors you need to consider in that type of situation, you can't make a snap judgement like that and call it some gross, malformed version of equality." She finishes, looking on at the man with something almost resembling pity - who the hell taught him to think that way?

Prism sighs to herself, and watches quietly as Calen manages to miss the target after throwing both knives. She would've celebrated, if she weren't so deep in thought. There's something about that story that story that seems familiar, as if she'd heard it long ago. She spends a few silent moments pondering it, before jerking up in response to his after he dashed off to retrieve his weapons. "Hmm? Oh, sure. If you've got a performance coming up, just let me know when and where and I'll drop by."

She walks up to the targeting range then, swinging Hawk's Eye off her shoulder as she glances towards the rest of their audience. Amane's lost in some tower defense game, and Smokey - Smokey gets a shake of Prism's head at his horrible reference, despite the smile on her face at his words. "Hawk's Eye doesn't have quite the same boom as Matchstick does, but I can understand the appeal."

Taking her place at the range then, she carefully listens to Calen's question, tilting her head as she considers it. That's actually a good question - and one kind of out of the blue, frankly. "Too controlling, probably? But that's literally part of my job description as a leader, so I like to think it works out." Bringing up the rifle, she scopes in on the target and shatters it with a satisfying shot, before walking back over the console.

...she still can't shake the feeling she knows his story from somewhere. "Where'd y'all grow up?"

8
Beacon Academy / Big Game Hunting [Closed]
« on: August 13, 2018, 12:53:42 AM »
The outdoor testing range at Beacon's weapons workshop was a place that told stories. From the faded pastel remains of various dust explosions and cracked asphalt, to the far concrete wall where several well-abused paper targets valiantly hung as a triumph against the wide variety of bullet marks marring their surfaces, one could tell it was well-used by students of all years. And this morning was no exception, as exhibited by quiet swears of Jima Purpora as she stood, hunched over what looked like a slab of iron with a motor attached, resting on several car jacks and half of a workbench.

The woman had been working on her most recent project for awhile now. After the Vytal Tournament and some recent sparring matches against other students, she'd been left feeling underpowered, and underleveled. Two things she knew she wasn't. The concept of not living up to her full potential was infuriating, so she'd decided it was about time for an upgrade in firepower, literally - and thus, the plans for her new chainsword were born. It'd taken some... interesting petitioning of the companies that provided her funding, alongside drafting plans for an entirely-new way of capturing Grimm, in order to get the money to build the weapon. It'd honestly been about time to replace her weapons though, too - the frequency of capture with the Grab n' Go were too low to warrant constant reuse, and after serving by her side for 4 years at Signal and then another 3 at Beacon, Jima had been reaching the edge of her capabilities with Goliath.

So thus, the plans for Requiem Alpha and Beta, alongside the compact capture discs, were created. The CCD's had been easy to draft, fast to assemble, and more importantly, much cheaper than the Grab n' Go - something Jima's correspondents were very happy to hear. Requiem had taken a bit longer to assemble, given the need to custom order parts to assemble in Beacon's weapons workshop. But weeks of late nights assembling and experimenting had finally paid off with the creation of the massive broadsword and it's custom-built dust powered engine.

So as Jima screwed back on the cover to the motor and flipped the switch on the base of the pommel, there's a muted roar as the motor comes to life. The blade of the weapon quickly gains a white glow before it lifts up off the workbench it was resting on, hovering nearly two feet over it's surface. Jima takes a step back, a massive grin on her face as she observes the result of so much of all her hard work - and lets out an incredibly unprofessional squeal of joy.

Now all that's left is a proper field test.

9
Jima grits her teeth as Rufus attempts to pull away, digging her feet into the ground and leaning backwards. She's not just going to let him yank her into the lava pit, but it's going to be a fruitless to just stand there and push and pull - she needs to make this something more than a glorified game of tug-of-war.

Grabbing the cord with her spare hand, she wraps the cord around it once before pulling back, keeping up the the tension in the cord while giving her a few feet of slack to maneuver Goliath. She swings it in a circle once, then braces the hilt of the weapon against her stomach as the head of the mace opens up, facing Rufus - and she fires it off once, then twice, using the blunt recoil of the shotgun to try to take another couple steps backwards.

Attack Log:
Shotgun Bodyshot (6% x 2)

Jima's Combat Stats:
Aura: 82%
Goliath: 0/5

10
Beacon Academy / Re: Tea and Cookies [Open]
« on: August 11, 2018, 03:20:35 PM »
Something smelled nice.

Chantou's navigating a bit on autopilot. The mantis faunus has obviously already retired for the afternoon, swapping her school uniform out for a pair of sweatpants and a off-the-shoulder croptop. Her hair's a bit off a mess, tied up in a sloppy messy bun, and based on the slump to the shoulders and the way she was yawning as she plodded down the corridor, it wouldn't be an off guess to say she'd been napping. But regardless, the urge for food had managed to rouse her from her slumber, and short of going to her jeep to raid her cooler or bothering to get dressed for the dining hall, raiding the kitchen was her next best bet. Thankfully, that's exactly where she'd manage to find her leader. "Yo, Leo, other chick. What's cookin'?"

11
Plot Zone / Re: Big Game Hunting [Closed!]
« on: August 11, 2018, 12:11:36 AM »
The hunting party is going to be made up of Smokey Emberstone, Diana Farran, and Kisha Miles, and thread signups are now over. Keep an eye out for the starting post in the next few days, it'll start around Beacon's weapons workshop to get our characters acquainted, then they'll venture out to the Emerald Forest. MonsterManic's Tieren was added last-minute since Jima's gonna be indisposed for 90% of the battle, so this way there's at least enough students to form a proper team. You'll be pmed the thread!

12
RPG Discussion / Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« on: August 10, 2018, 10:38:13 PM »
Canon: A Painful Eventuality - Azre and Erza Sundown

You’re only 6, and you’re watching your twin sister literally wilt before your eyes. Daddy been gotten for the better part of a month, and you two had been left with the maids at home. He’d only just come back, and you two had rushed to greet him - only to be pushed to the side as he dropped his suitcase, barking that you were going to wrinkle his suit. He’d dropped his briefcase and had immediately gone towards the master bedroom, leaving the two of you to sit, dejected, in the entryway.

“Hey, Erza?”

“Yeah Anna?”

“What do you you think we did wrong?

“You know Daddy, he’s a Very Important Businessman.” You enunciate, repeating the words the butler had told you when he’d explained Daddy would be gone for an entire month. “I guess hugs aren’t proff- proffesh- fancy enough for him?”

Anna sits quietly for a minute, pondering the idea, before she suddenly lights up, turning to you with bright eyes. “I know! How about a tea party?”

“...a tea party?”

“Yeah! What’s fancier than that!? Daddy will definitely want to attend a tea party!”

“...I guess.” You reluctantly agree, and Anna immediately springs into action. She’s calling for butlers, ordering them to make sandwiches and the sweet drink that you two love so much. The dining room table is quickly prepared, covered in a fancy linen cloth while the maid places down silverware. Anna trails behind, her mouth running endlessly as she has her tweak the silverware just so, or how to arrange the flowers. She even doesn’t let the maids touch the fancy china she demanded with a pout, being the one to carefully place the plates onto the table, arranging all the silverware just like they taught you two - and then when the butler comes out to place cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches on the table, you can’t help but let a small smile bloom on your face.

Daddy comes back downstairs nearly 45 minutes later, dressed in a new suit and headed directly for the front door. He picks up his briefcase, and he’s opening the door just as-

“Daddydaddydaddy!”

Anna rushes your father, immediately gripping his pantleg and giving him her best puppy eyes, the ones that always get that nice kitchen made to give you an extra cookie. “Daddy, don’t leave yet, we set up a tea party because we thought you’d like it and-”

Your Dad responds by patiently jerking his leg, causing Anna to hold on even tighter. When she doesn’t let go immediately, he reaches down and grips her head, forcing her backwards off his pant leg, and she gives a small cry before she falls backwards, landing on the tile floor with an oof. You rush forwards, kneeling next to your sister, helping her lean back up as she starts to snivel, clutching the back of her head.

“Anna, not now. I’m having a very important dinner with a client in just an hour, I have no time for your silly games.”

He just leaves after that, paying no mind to the crying child floor or the fact you’re giving him your best death glare. The quiet thud of the door shocks Anna out the beginning of her crying fit, staring at the door with wide eyes as tears still stream down her cheeks. You’re less concerned about your father and more concerned about your sister, but the fact her cheeks puff out and she starts to glare at the offending wood panel tell you she’s fine. “Fine, you weren’t going to be invited anyways! It’ll just be the two of us, right Erza?”

You don’t answer immediately, helping your sister to her feet and giving her a hand as she determinedly wobbles into the dining room. “Right Anna.”

You two are quiet then, taking up seats on opposite sides of the massive dining room table. One of the maids comes out with an icepack, and Anna accepts, but she shoos them away before they can offer her any further treatment. Your twin is unusually silent as you much away at cucumber sandwiches and lukewarm tea, before she finally speaks up from her end of the table. “Hey, Erza?”

“Yes, Anna?”

“You’re not going to just like, leave me like Daddy does right? You’ll never leave me, right?”

“Yeah, Anna.”

“Promise, Erza.”

“I promise, Anna.”

Your twin seems satisfied, and she goes back to happily munching on her sandwich. You reaffirm your promise to her as you stare into her tea, thinking about how your father just discarded you two, like you were trash, like you were- were- nothing!

Yeah, you decide. You’re never going to leave her.

You’re 11, and you can’t find your sister anywhere. Father dragged you to one of these fancy charity balls, the 3rd this month, and at some point during the night your twin sister somehow slipped away from you. Which is weird in all honesty, because you two usually stick together - there’s barely any kids your age at these things, and Father usually makes you socialize with all of his older friends. They find it interesting to talk about their businesses, or fancy alcohols, or the latest women they’ve conquered, whatever that means. You’re barely noticed, except when Father calls on you to agree with a point he made, or has you stand up and spin to show off the fancy clothing you’re forced into.

Needless to say, it’s always horrifically boring, and you and Anna usually spend most of it playing Gin Rummy under the table with the pack of cards you sneak in inside the little clutch purse you’re allowed to carry.

At some point however, they’d called people onto the dance floor, and Father was drunk enough to start missing the mother you never met, and had asked for you two to go dance with him. Anna had gone first, spinning away into the crowd while you sat on the sidelines clutching a drink, before he’d whirled her off to one of his friends to dance with and come to grasp your hands. You hadn’t been worried initially until after five minutes of awkward ballroom dancing with your father, you noticed you couldn’t see Anna anywhere on the dance floor.

You’d pulled away from your drunk father with an excuse of using the bathroom, slipping away. You two always had a spot to meet up if things got too much, the handicap stall in the women’s room, where you’d hide until the ball was over, and you could find your dad to go home. Sometimes one of you crept off, and the other would follow a few minutes later to keep it on the downlow - but you always agreed ahead of time that it should happen. So by the time you finally reach the women’s room and peak into the largest stall, you see nothing but a bottle of champagne left on the floor, alongside some woman’s high heels.

Something’s definitely wrong here.

So you went wandering. Up the grand staircase that served as an entryway, checking the surrounding hallways. You’d poked your head into the other ballrooms and interrupted some fancy meeting, checked the other bathroom, and had even sprinted past a waiter carrying a tray full of martinis to explore the kitchen and servant’s passages, in case Anna had decided to go exploring for some reason.

You’d nearly given up hope of finding your sister yourself, and had started wandering back towards the ballroom to try to rouse some sense out of your drunken father when you’d heard it.

”Heeelp!”

Anna

You’d taken off sprinting in the direction of her voice, backtracking down the hallway you’d just come through, before taking a right down a hallway you know led to the coatroom. There she was, but she wasn’t alone-
The man your father had passed her off to earlier was with her. Some old businessman you couldn’t remember the name of. One of his hands was pinning hers above her head, while the other covered her mouth and noise, preventing her from yelling out again. He was pinning your sister to the wall with his bodyweight, nearly suffocating her, and- and-

And she’d looked over his shoulder, away from his face, and locked eyes with you for several terrifying seconds. She was desperate, pleading for rescue. You could yell, but nobody would be able to hear you over the ballroom music, and if you went to go get help who knows what else he might do, or where he might take her-

The terrified look of shock on your face stills as you press your lips together. You get one chance at this, and your sister is depending on you. You silently nod, before placing your finger over your mouth in the universal sign to hush, and her eyes widen in understanding before she tears her gaze from you to look back up at the old man. He’s facing away from you, pinning you to the far wall, and you’re so glad you wore flats instead of high heels today, since that means you’re silent on the carpeted floor as you approach-

And kick him between the legs from behind as hard as you possibly can.

His deep wordless murmurs to Anna suddenly go high-pitched, and he whirls around, clutching at his groin. Anna’s on the move in an instant, running towards you, and you grasp her hand as you begin to pull her away from the man, who’s too busy doubling over in pain to follow. The only thing that matters is her high-pitched “RunrunrunrunRUN” and moving as fast as your legs can carry you, bursting back out into the lobby before sprinting down the staircase, crossing the ballroom along the edge, until you can pull her into the woman’s room.

You two automatically go to the furthest stall, the handicap one. Regardless of the champagne bottle next to the toilet or the pair of high heels scattered on the floor, it’s where you two can safely sink onto the ground. It’s where Anna can curl up into a ball against the wall, it’s where you can sit next to her, and it’s where she can safely burst into tears and ruin her mascara as buries herself in your shoulder and starts to sob. She’s clinging as tightly as a bure, but you're not going to pull away - you just wrap your arms around her in return, and bury your face in her red hair, letting your own tears come to the surface as you remind yourself she’s still here, and she’s safe in your arms.

You can hear the music wrapping up outside by the time her sobbing slows and she extracts herself from your shoulder, sitting back against the cool tile to stare at the ceiling. You let her, going to fetch paper towels and wet them in the sink, before returning to the bathroom stall to start to clean up you two’s ruined makeup.

You’ve successfully wiped away her ruined mascara, but can’t quite get the lipstick stain off her dress when she finally speaks up.

“...Hey Erza?”

Her voice is quiet, restrained, careful - nothing like the bossy, arrogant, confident musician you love. You quietly seeth inside for everything that man did to her, but push it to the side for now. This isn’t about you, it’s about her.

“Yeah, Anna?”

“Don’t ever leave me.”

“I promise I won’t, Anna.”

She’s suddenly hugging you again, and you reaffirm the promise to yourself. You won’t ever leave her, ever again.

You’re 15, and in the span of a single afternoon your life has taken an incredibly new direction.

You sis- brother had come out onto the set having nearly shaved herself bald except for a dark-red fuzz atop her head. The director’s jaw had dropped, the set had gone silent, and even you had stared almost unbelieving, until you’d been dragged to the trailer your father occupied. You’d quietly sat in the corner as Father chewed him out for shaving head. You’d pulled out your scroll and cued up the first social media platform you’d come across, tagged every noisy reporter and news outlet you could think of, and had started to type out the announcement of the Sundown Twins as a brand name, when you realized you didn’t know your brother’s name.

“Hey, what’s like, your name and pronouns and stuff now?”

“Uh… he-him, and call me Azre.”

You’d added the announcement of Azre’s transition, and sent off the text to announce to the world who the two of you were now.

You father’s jaw had dropped when he read the messages, rendered speechless by the clever act of rebellion. He’d kicked you from the room, told you to get out, go anywhere, the shoot was canceled-

So you’d wandered back to your own trailer, sitting in the chairs outside as your Father argued with the director, sending orderlies scurrying as they hurried to pack up the million-dollar photoshoot that had taken the entire morning to set up.

You and Azre had been silent since that exchange. You couldn’t help yourself from shooting glances at his shaved head, still decked out in a bright-pink sundress with a bikini underneath for your “Playful Summertime” fashion line. He’d eventually caught you staring, and you’d whipped your gaze away as if stung, before you heard him heave a massive sigh-

-And it occured to you you should really make it clear you accepted him.

“So, uh- how’s your name spelled?

He turned to carefully observe your sheepish look, your usually perfectly-composed voice stuttering. He’d stared for a quiet moment, before a small smile graced his face. “A-Z-R-E. Azre.”

“...isn’t that, like-”

“Yes, yes it is. We’ve always been through everything together, and well- I doubt you’re going to leave me now.”

You spend your own moment staring, before snorting in disbelief, and then beginning to laugh. After all the stress, the tense situation, the threat of being seperated, it all boils over in an insane moment of hilarity - and after staring at you like you’ve lost your mind, he begins to crack up to.

After a laughing fit that lasts a solid five minutes, he reaches for your hand for the first time since you were kids, and you let him hold it. Yeah, together. You did promise after all, so it’s not just like you could leave him now.

You’re 16, and you didn’t think you’d be learning to run a business so quickly.

It had been Azre’s idea, really. A makeup line built especially to help trans youth accentuate their feminine or masculine features to help them pass more easily. He’d pitched the idea to you the day after he got his binder, when he was figuring out the best ways to accentuate his form to make him appear more masculine - facial features played a big part in passing, and the tricks he’d learned in emphasising his eyebrows or creating the outline of an adam’s apple on his throat actually really worked, letting him pass as a young male teenager. You never would’ve thought you’d hear him curse his cheekbones, but after crying frustration for the third time over a misalignment of his foundation, he’d turned to you and ranted how much easier it would be if it all came prepackaged-

And then it’d occurred to him, and even you had to admit it was kinda genius.

You had a new title, but nothing to show for it yet. The makeup line would be a perfect debut, cementing your new status as a brother-sister duo, instead of a pair of daughters to some rich entrepreneur. It’d give you a platform to stand on, but more importantly, give Azre a must needed confidence boost-

So you had agreed right away, and then started regretting it just two weeks later.

Azre might be able to dazzle the crowd with everything he did, even when the tabloids were a mess with the announcement of his transition and their brand separation from their Father, but that’s what he did best - dazzle. He was a massive extrovert, putting on a show that nobody could keep their eyes off of, with the ability to dazzle their pants off, but all glittery words were simply those - words.

You were the quick one, the clever one, the brave one. The one who’d come up with a way to keep you two together on the spot, who’d helped him locate his first binder and had spent the entire night awake after he first came out finding the best resources for someone who just came out as transgender. You’d told him off for binding with ace bandages despite his desperation, you where there to help him order his first binder, and you were with him when he went for his first doctor’s appointment, to find out how he could start on HRT, and had sat patiently in the waiting room as he spent hours with a voice coach. You’d done your best to help him grow from the shaky unsure mess he became when he first came out, to the confident, charismatic teenage idol you knew he loved to be, because he was your siblings no matter what happened, he was your brother- and you loved him, because he was all you had left in this world.

So you decided to pour your all into this.

You’d sat down with your manager and had pitched the idea, pushed it through their hesitance for such an ambitious idea after your hectic debut, but you argued that’s what your new brand name was built on - bold, bare-faced ideas. That even become your tagline. You’d collaborate with multiple makeup brands, find the cruelty-free brands ones you knew he’d prefer that still met his impossible standards. You’d reached out to the other celebrities you knew would help promote it. You’d set up the website, put out the announcement, handled question after question and meeting after meeting, where you’d organize Azre’s hastily-explained ideas into tangible realities, when he’d freeze under the judgemental gaze of your manager’s contacts while you forged ahead, all for him.

He’d had a ball of a time promoting it. TV interviews, promotional photoshoots, billboards, fan meetups - he got to dive right back into the fame he so craved, the celebrity lifestyle that you know he lived for. You let him handle that part, and resigned yourself to the seemingly endless meetings - because honestly, it was the first time since he’d come out you’d seen him smile like that. The exhaustion, the arguments, the everything - it was all worth it for that smile.

And then you’d planned the premiere.

It’d be a standard red carpet appearance. The glittering red dress you’d picked was sheer, clinging to every fragile curve you possessed, matching the black stiletto heels and the smokey red eyeshadow you’d carefully applied. The first-ever suit he wore, the one he let you choose for him, was white, but patterned with twisting golden roses, shimmering faintly in the light every which way he turned. In place of a hankerchief tucked in his pocket he’d decided on tucking a small version of the trans pride flag, refusing to let go of that piece of his identity You’d worn each other’s colors, a simultaneous announcement of independence and solidarity as the Sundown Twins had finally separated from their parent company. You two were going to flawless and perfectly in sink, ready to debut your makeup line at that night’s venue.

So when you’d stopped out of the limousine behind him, reaching to link his arm with yours as you had planned to do, only have him surge ahead to greet fans -

You’d swallowed the pang of hurt that rose up, got out of the limousine, and joined him in the classic smile-wave-selfie routine you’d perfected long ago. You let him get crowded by paparazzi, reveling in the flash of lights and the yells of his name as you stood off to the side, making polite conversation with the other celebrities who’d shown up to support Azre’s new makeup line.

...that smile was all worth it. After all, you might do everything together, but this was for him.

You’re 17, and Azre’s being an idiot.

“Hunters.” You say, your voice dripping with disbelief. He nods eagerly, and you find it necessary to fold you book up to look him square in the eye.

“Think about it, Erza! Hunters! There’s nobody more popular, no more well-respected than the hunters of Remnant! Huntsmen and huntresses are the greatest celebrities there are, valiantly defending innocent citizens from the greatest threat of humanity on the face on the planet! There’s no better way to claim fame, imagine if I- if we became hunters!”

He’s obviously excited. That devious, determined twinkle that’s been the same since childhood is in his eye, and from the way he’s bouncing in his seat it’s obvious he’s been waiting to strike her blind with this idea.

“Azre, are you sure?[/[] I mean, we’ve never gone to combat school-”

“We both know how to fight!”

“I only just figured out my semblance-”

“You punched a man through wall!”

“I only made a crater! And besides, you had those movie plans, and I’ve already lined up the director and started auditions for-”

“That doesn’t matter!”

You stare at him incredulously. He’s not kidding, he’d never kid about something like this. He’s serious. He’s completely serious.

“...which school are you thinking of?”

“Atlas is to far north and too cold. Beacon’s a solid maybe, but I’ve never been the biggest fan of Vale. Haven’s a certain possibility, but I was thinking we should go to Shade!”

“Shade? The school in the middle of Vacuo, the desert wasteland?”

Azre nods in enthusiasm. “It’s perfect, the Sundown Twins venturing into the desert wasteland to become the protectors of humanity? What could be heroic!? Besides, we both know Zanzabar would never want to step foot in such a place. ”

“...I suppose.”

Azre fistpumps to himself, giving a victorious “Yessss!” He looks back to you, giving you a grateful smile. “I knew you’d love the idea. You’d have to follow me, I just knew it! That’s the Sundown Twins to you - they do everything together, and now they get to save the world together!”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a fond smile on your face. “Sure, Azre.”

“Erza?”

You crack your eyes open, coming face-to-face with the familiar brown eyes of your brother kneeling next to your bed. You start and jerk backwards, flailing dangerously on the side of the bed for a second before you manage to right yourself. You glance towards the alarm clock on the side of the bed - 2:43 am - and sigh to yourself as you stare down your brother. “What, Azre?”

He sits back on his own bed, biting at his lip. You’re used to Azre needing your attention at all hours, you’re used to him bugging you for inane ideas and waking you up at all hours, but like- you’d just gotten back from your mission, you’d been fucking exhausted, and you had a 8:00 am exam tomorrow morning.

“I’ve been thinking, about like. Why we enrolled at Shade, and decided to become hunters, and stuff.”

“Mhm?”

“It’s… it’s hard.”

You blink at that, take a moment to consider his words, and rub the sleep out of your eyes before asking him to repeat that.

“It’s hard!”

“Well- well, what the hell did you expect, of course it’s going to be hard. We’re training to kill Grimm and save people, this wasn’t going to be a cakewalk.” It’s hard to keep your voice low and impartial, glancing over your shoulder to where your teammates slept.

“Well, yes! But-”

“Shhh. Don’t wake anyone.”

He glares at you, before dropping his voice back down to a whisper to continue the quiet argument.

“I- I didn’t think it’d be this hard. Like, we were good fighters and stuff, but it’s constantly exhausting. I barely have time to relax anymore, we haven’t gone to a premiere in months, we have to spend all our time in classes and like- I can’t do it anymore!” There’s a desperate, exhausted note to his voice, giving you pleading eyes.

You hate the fact you know he’s serious.

“Erza, I think we should just… quietly drop out. It wouldn’t be a big deal, with your PR connections you should easily be able to cover up. Ramalia probably wouldn’t miss us, I mean, I love the woman and god bless her, but-”

“No.” The words fly from your mouth without thought, without planning, just your purely instinctual reaction to the concept of leaving. “I’m not dropping out.”

Azre looks on in disbelief as he’s not only disrupted, but denied. He stares at you as if he couldn’t fathom what’s happening, opening and closing his mouth several times like a fish on dry land, before putting on his best puppydog eyes. The puppydog eyes that haven’t changed since childhood. “B-but, Erza, you promised! You’d never leave me, we’ve always done everything together, we’d always do everything together! So why the hell are you saying no to me now, of all times? What’s possibly changed!?”

“...I want to become a huntress.”

“So did I, but it simple isn’t worth all the-”

“All the what, Azre? The hard work, the hours spent studying and training and everything? What you can’t fathom doing because it’s not immediately paying off like you expected it to? Azre, I’ve spent the past 18 years doing everything you wanted, organizing and writing and creating  so you could reap the rewards and go off and celebrate the fame it brought you, and we’ve jumped from idea to idea constantly and now that I found something I want, that I can use to make a real difference in people’s lives, you just want me to quit it just like that, because you’re tired of working hard? Have you gone batshit insane?”

“Erza, I cannot believe-!”

You cut him off halfway through his high-pitched reply by rolling over and covering your ears with your pillow, effectively blocking out any argument he could muster. “Goodnight, Azre.”

Azre lets himself wilt after the sudden retaliation, giving you a pitiful look you ignore. He’s at least dropped back to a whisper, but you can tell he still wants to argue. “But Erza, you promised you’d never-”

“Goodnight, Azre.”

You lay back down, and bury your head underneath your pillow. You hear Azre whine, before the rustling of sheets signifies that he’s layed back down - and secretly, under the cover of darkness, you let yourself smile.

You were going to let yourself have this, even if it meant you weren’t always going to be together.

13
Prism just barely manages to avoid Smokey's retaliation, boosting the terrifying shotgun blast of ice in time to give her heels a frostlike sheen. The rest of Blossom isn't giving her any respite either, as she immediately needs to tuck in her wings and dive to avoid the second icy blast for Kiro - juuust in time for Billy's lasso to loop her around the ankle.

Okay, this is getting annoying. "Coco, don't let yourself get frozen! It's time to move! Jocelyn, let us know which one of those clones is the real one! Amane - kite!" Prism's orders are quickly barked out, scanning the arena for options as she valiantly fights against the lasso around her ankle. She can't stay in the air like this or she's going to get frozen, half her team's on the move but she's got no way to get to them now, and Billy's definitely to heavy for her to lift, so-

Billy.

A conniving smirk crosses Prism's face as she reaches for her belt, transforming her rifle into it's secondary mode. Loading a dust cartridge into the back of the blade, before turning to face the opponent attempting to pull her down to earth, firing off with a snap of her wings as she dives directly for her, the edge of her glaive shimmering a bright white. Slashing it through the air while she dives, Prism's initial strike is only outraced by two white cresecents flying through the air, aimed directly for Billy - following by Prism herself, bringing the blade of her glaive down against her opponent in an overhead slash.

At least this way, nobody can risk shooting her without hitting Billy.

Attack Log:
Aura-Enhanced Crescents (5% x 2) - Billy
Heavy Aura-Enhanced Glaive Strike (6%) - Billy

Prism's Combat Stats:
Aura: 92%
Lighting Dust Bullets: 2/5

14
Beacon Academy / Re: Stargazing [Open]
« on: August 09, 2018, 11:21:09 PM »
Prism makes a disgusted face at Calen's mention of the White Fang, sticking her tongue at the concept. "Those 'more direct strategies' are just glorified acts of terrorism. Don't ever assume that people like the White Fang stand for the faunus' concept of equality - they're the outliers, not the majority." She replies, her tone cold and serious. "Until a mutual ground of recognition of either species as people are built, then I'm not sure what thread would ever be enough."

Her second monologue over, she swaps places with Calen, watching the target fire off with a new steadier eye than beforehand. "Aura studies, probably?" She answers, raising her rifle to shoot down the target, nodding to herself in satisfaction. "Doctor Sophos is probably my favorite professor, so it's always an enjoyable class with him." She finishes, before swapping places with Calen again.

"So where and why do you dance, Calen?" She asks after a tentative moment thinking of the question, before the target fires off. "Sorry Smokey, Amane - dunno if this one is as applicable to you two, unless either of you feel like busting a move suddenly."

15
Plot Zone / Big Game Hunting [Closed!]
« on: August 08, 2018, 11:14:12 PM »
With a recent upgrade in firepower, Jima Purpora is looking for the opportunity to field test her weapon. This involves delving headfirst into the Emerald Forest looking for baddies with no regard to her safety, which is- well, 90% of missions hunters run anyways. She'd probably appreciate some friends along the way as well, so anybody's who interested in the opportunity to come in and beat up a large number of Grimm (alongside some very large Grimm) - well, this thread's for you!

In reality, this is mostly Moth's way of figuring out how to best write combat. Jima's going to be present, though probably be indisposed through various means throughout the majority of the fight, so it'll be up to whoever's interested to handle the Grimm. There's room for three in this makeshift hunting party.

1. Smokey Emberstone
2. Diana Farran
3. Kisha Miles
4. Tieren Augus

Apologies to anybody not chosen, but I'll hopefully be writing proper plot threads in the future, and you all will be the first to know!

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