abstractborders | Open RP Post

Meeting in the afterlife :)

If asked what happened, Bard wouldn't be able to explain it. He remembered attempting to protect some of the others, some of the individuals that he had come to call family and then his body had felt cold. So cold. The pain had been minimal, and for that he was thankful, his body giving out on him as he sank to his knees, coughing up some blood. Several people had called his name and a few had even touched him, trying to reassure him that he was going to be fine but he knew. Bard wasn't an idiot.

There was no coming back from this.

When he woke up next it was with a gasping breath that he didn't really need to take, his chest heaving for a moment as he stared up at the brilliant blue sky. For a moment he felt confused and simply stared, a hand lifting to rest on his chest--searching for a heartbeat that he inevitably didn't find. Bard's hand clenched, fingers curling in the material of his shirt.

He was dead.

His mind immediately went to those he'd protected, hoping they were safe and then to his child. Oh his dear children. He was never going to see them again. His heart ached and Bard closed his eyes against the odd burning sensation he could feel starting, tears pricking at his eyes but he refused to let them fall. They would be alright; he knew they would be. All three of them were strong. They would take care of one another and everything would be alright.

Once he was calm, the bowman finally opened his eyes again and went even further, slowly pushing himself up. It was then that he realized that he lay in a field of long grass that swayed gently in the wind, the sun warming everything it touched as the distant sound of birds reached him. The next thing he realized was that he was himself once more. The changes he had gone through were gone and he was human again, no tail, no wings--just himself. Bard of Dale. Bard the Bowman.

A surprised laugh escaped him as he looked himself over, staring down at his hands the longest as he let out a slow breath. Of course it would take death to return him to normal.

1, 2, 3

Finding out she's got frontotemperal dementia like mommy. So she decides to take the bite!

1, 2, 3

Werewolves au? Werewolves. have another.

There were a lot of things in this world that Sam knew how to deal with; he was former military after all. And in the division he'd been apart of, you saw things. Things you didn't easily forget no matter how hard to tried.

Like werewolves. And vampires.

Apparently those were things. Things that had been around for a very long time. He'd never come in direct contact with vampires but werewolves? Those he had quite a bit of experience with. More often than not werewolves were recruited to aid military groups or even private organizations, able to easy blend in with opposing forces and strike as soon as the full moon rose.

But that was the life he'd left behind. He'd lost a partner to one such attack and had been gravely injured--thankfully not by a werewolf--and had returned to normal life. As..normal as life could be for someone whose dreams were haunted by howls and plagued by the fact that he'd been the one that had to put his partner down. He'd been the one that had to use a silver bullet on the man he'd spent a large chunk of his life trusting and working with. He ended up finding a lot of others, both former soldiers and civilians alike, that had dealt with werewolves in some way or another and found solace in their similar situations. Found a little bit of peace even.

And then he'd gotten caught back up in the world all over again and a man named Steve Rogers was to blame.

Steve was the reason he was out in the middle of nowhere on a snowy night attempting to track down someone that the other man was looking for. A former friend and solider, according to Steve, that had allegedly died then surfaced again, spotted among various werewolf 'packs' throughout different cities. But he never lingered long, from what Steve had said, and the other man was worried. Wanted to help. Wanted to find a way to cure him.

Honestly, Sam thought it was a bit of a stretch but a part of him wanted to help because..he would have wanted to do the same for Riley, if there had been an opportunity to do so.

So here he was, trekking back towards the cabin he and Steve had acquired for their wolf 'hunting' trip, handgun tucked into his pants underneath his shirt as he went along. It was just a precaution, of course, and Sam wasn't going to use it unless absolutely necessary but it was better to have it than not have anything at all and end up with a bite.

He doubted he'd much good to Steve like that. (Though heightened senses would come in real damn handy right now.)

Of all the things he'd been asked to do since becoming a werewolf, this had to be the craziest. It had to be the worst idea in the history of bad ideas and there was no way he was going to be able to go through with it.

Staring at Stiles, Scott shook his head slowly, mouth working a few times before he managed to find his words, a pained look in his eyes when he was finally able to speak.

"Stiles I--I can't. I can't do that to you," he said softly. There were voices in his head, instincts telling him that yes he could. That he needed to help his pack grow and this was the first step but--

No. No he wasn't going to do that to her. He wasn't going to inflict this life on her.

"There's got to be some other way."

Edited 2016-03-29 03:39 (UTC)

She'd died. That much she remembered. Unfortunately, she'd pulled herself out of her grave and found herself close to the Nemeton. Her clothes are tattered and torn, her mind a bit jumbled because things seemed... it seemed off. How long had it been since her death? Since she'd left the love of her life and her father. Though now that she thought about it... her father could easily be dead too.

The huntress wraps her arms around herself and starts walking away from the Nemeton. From the cursed tree that had given them all hell. She had every intention of going to Argent Arms. At least, for now, she could go there and be safe. Set up a safe haven, as it were. After that she'd have to find the pack. Though a part of her wasn't sure that she wanted to.

Wasn't sure that she wanted to put Scott through that hell.

They'd gotten separated.

All of them. Lydia, Stiles, Kira--he couldn't find any of them and he had no idea how they'd gotten lost or why he could smell them. He knew each of their scents like they were his own and it shouldn't have been difficult for him to pick up a trace. They were his pack. Even if they were miles apart he'd be able to find them.

But there was nothing. It was almost like they had just vanished.

When he eventually did find something the weak trail lead him to a forest, a forest that just felt wrong. There was a chill in the air that Scott couldn't make sense of considering how warm it had been elsewhere and he felt like everything was watching him. Like there were eyes everywhere. The alpha had hesitated at the edge of the woods, debating whether or not this was where he really needed to be but then he'd heard it.

A scream.

It sounded more like an echo than anything else but he knew that scream. That was Lydia's scream. And that was enough to send him bolting into the woods, eyes shifting colors as he let his wolf side take over and guide him through the almost haunting forest.

"Scotty..."

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, playing with the hem of her shirt. Some other way. Stiles knew that there was no other way. It was the same disease that had taken her mom. That had caused her mom to go a bit crazy on her. Made the woman think that her own daughter was trying to kill her. She didn't want to go through that. Didn't want to lose her friends because she thought they weren't there. Thought they were trying to kill her.

"You know there's no other way. Even your mom can tell you that. I've told you that before. When we thought I had it before because of him. Because of the Nogitsune. But this isn't like that, Scotty. This is the real thing this time."

The woods felt off to Lydia too. Like there was something lurking in them that shouldn't be. She's still trying to figure out how she'd gotten lost from Scott. From the others. It felt like she couldn't breathe and like the woods around her were trying to take her breath away. Like it was trying to keep her from calling out to her alpha. So she did the next best thing she could think of.

Screams

It's loud and it's piercing. Anyone within a twenty or so, possibly more, radius would hear it. The scream might even make their ears bleed a little. After all, it was a defense mechanism. Unfortunately, that scream also had another side effect to it. Even if she was wary about that side effect. Scared of it even.

Someone was dead.

He'd done the best he could to lie low since regaining his freedom. A lot had changed in the world, he had changed. Sometimes it wasn't so easy to blend in. A man with a metal arm? Drew a lot of attention. A large monster with a metal arm? Drew even more attention. At least when he was a wolf he could stick close to the others, keep people from seeing anything. The real wolves didn't seem to trust him a lot of the time, though. Maybe he smelled different, or it was the sound of his arm that made them uneasy. He was just glad that his arm had been designed with his special needs in mind, or else he might have had to rip it off to make way for his transformations. That might've ended poorly.

He didn't hurt anyone, at least, not if he could help it. He didn't want to hurt anyone. Sometimes accidents happened. Sometimes hunters came after him. The ones who thought he was just a really strange wolf got off easy, but the ones who came for a werewolf? Sometimes they didn't walk away.

Staying in one place for too long was dangerous. He was easy to pick out, and that was a problem. He could dull the shine of his arm with dirt, and he did when he had to. Tonight was one of those nights. But tonight there was also an unfamiliar scent in the area that was, for now, his. Humans usually meant trouble.

He lurked in the darkness, following Sam just out of sight, taking care not to make a single sound. Maybe he could solve this without violence, maybe things would work for him for once. Maybe. Concealing himself in the bushes, which was a considerable feat when he was close to seven feet tall and sporting razor sharp claws and fangs, he growled. It was a low, deep rumble in his chest, the sound of a large angry wolf. Or, in this case, a werewolf. If he could scare Sam away, Bucky could move on in peace and not have to worry. Most people didn't want to stick around when they heard wolves.

That scream was a force to be reckoned with and it never ceased to hurt. Scott's pace slows as he stumbles, hands going to cover his ears for a moment as he tries to get his bearings. He has to keep moving, has to get to Lydia but that scream was making it harder than he anticipated.

The alpha focuses and takes a slow breath, eyes clenched shut the entire time before snapping open.

He had to find her.

The werewolf takes off again despite the pounding in his head, senses leading him straight towards the source of the scream. He skids along the leaf littered ground, panting heavily as he rests his hands on his knees, features slowly returning to normal as he looks up at his friend.

"Lydia..."

"Are you sure though? Maybe--Maybe the Nogitsune is back. Or maybe it's something else!" he pleaded, wanting it to be anything but that horrible disease. Anything else he could handle. They could find a way to fix.

But this...

Scott shakes his head, eyes burning as he turns away from Stiles and runs his hands through his hair where they fist a moment later.

"This can't..this can't be happening. Not to you."

It's that sound that has his trek coming to an abrupt halt, Sam staring straight ahead for a moment as he tries not to let himself get too freak out too fast. He knew that sound; he was extremely familiar with that sound. It was a growl, one that he knew belonged to a werewolf because it wasn't quite as high as a real wolf. It was more guttural; more savage.

His right hand shifts and starts to move behind his back as, at the same time, he turns to look behind him, feeling kind of relieved that the wolf isn't right behind him. But that sort of relief was quickly washed away by the fact that since the wolf wasn't right there it must be hiding.

And God only knew just where it was.

"...You're name's James...right?" he called out as he finally found his voice, not yet drawing his weapon but prepared to do so if it came down to it. "James Barnes?"

A human who knew his name. It would have made him worry more if Sam hadn't yet drawn his weapon, and if Bucky didn't already know that he was currently the only one wandering around outside. He might have thought it was a trap otherwise. A diversion.

"How-hh-" he cleared his throat and prepared to try again. It was a little hard to talk like this sometimes; his jaw and vocal chords didn't always agree. "Who are you?" Even when he managed understandable words, they still came out as a guttural growl.

"I'm sure," she tells him softly, shaking her head. This was something that she'd been fearing for a while now. Something that had been plaguing her mind ever since the nogitsune had messed with her head. Messed with everyone's head as far as she was concerned. "It's not Void, Scotty. He's trapped inside a triskele box and nowhere to be found. We know this."

The young Stilinski bites her bottom lip hard enough to hurt," It's happening though. So I came to you." Even if she probably could've left town and gone to a different Alpha. Found a pack who would turn her but... she wouldn't do that, not to her best friend.

It needed to be him.

Robb had not died the way he wanted to die. It should have been a valiant death during battle or one of old age, surrounded by his loved ones. It should never have been like this, on the ground with arrows sticking out of him, betrayed. But then again, he should never have been a snake either. And even in a peaceful, quiet place like this Robb Stark feels restless. At least they have given him his legs back, his skin and a normal face, yet the thing he wants most, a beating heart, is not a part of all this.

When Bard arrives Robb finds himself right there between a foolish sort of happiness and a heavy sort of sadness.

“You died way too quick, Bard.” Robb crouches down next to him, his arms resting on his elbows. “That is quite unlike you.”

The smile around his lips is a bit of a melancholic one.

When he does get to her she's tied to a chair. It's possible that the supernatural creatures around her didn't know what they'd gotten a hold of. Didn't know she was a banshee. If they had then they should've gagged her. So when he gets to her those eyes look to him. Watch him as his features return to normal.

"Scott... You should head back."

[On the outside, he wore the same smile he always did. He oozed the same bubbling confidence and spirit that he always had and he had been overjoyed when Yen Sid proclaimed that Riku was the next keyblade master.

None of that was false but it was a cleverly crafted mask to wear over the other emotions he was battling.

He'd almost lost everything he was to Xehanort. He'd let himself become so blind to what was going on that they'd been able to lure him in and almost snatch his heart away for good this time. If it hadn't been for his friends who knows where he might have been now. What he might be doing--being forced to do. The realization that he was far weaker of mind than he'd originally thought had him unnerved and Sora had no idea what to do now. Could he handle all of this? Was he really cut out for this sort of thing? It was probably just a momentary lapse in confidence and a part of him knew that. Trauma dealt those kinds of blows and he'd bounce back in no time.

But even visiting the Dream Eaters hadn't done as much as he'd hope and when he finally did leave..he'd ended up back home.

The sun was setting beyond the islands as Sora sat on their usual tree, hands resting on the trunk as his legs dangled over the edge. He hadn't told anyone where he was going, not wanting to bother them with his insecurities or fears right now. Not when there was so much go on. So much to celebrate because of Riku and so much to plan because of what was to come.

He just needed some time, that's all. Just...just some time.]

[Like Sora could ever hide from Riku.

The others wanted to celebrate his mastery, but Riku said he wanted to wait until Sora was back. When Sora didn't come back, Riku made his way to the island.

Because of course Sora was going to be there.

It doesn't take him long to track him down and soon Riku is at his usual spot, leaning against the tree next to Sora]

Hey.

[Figures that Riku would find him anyway. Some things never changed, did they?

His fingers curl against the bark of the tree as a weak sounding laugh escapes him.]

Hey.

[With his head ducked, it's easier to hide his expression from the other, right? Right.]

Shouldn't you be celebrating?

[No, not really]

That can wait. Got some other stuff to take care of first.

Edited 2016-05-08 22:46 (UTC)

Like what?

[What could be more important than a party! Come on, Riku.]

Whatever it is can wait. This is really big!

[He manages to put on a smile as he finally looks at his friend, fingers having curled into fists now.]

Open RP Post

Bard

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Scott

Scott

Scott

Fitz. Or Sam (Wilson). I can't decide.

We'll start with Sam BD I may throw Fitz in a separate tag later. Let me know if this is alright!

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Scott

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ghdjks it's perfect

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For Riku

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