Slayer Quest
Calling 1.1
Your name is Sarah Jones, and you'd describe yourself as an...
Calling 1.1
Your name is Sarah Jones, and you'd describe yourself as an...
Slayer Quest [BtVS]
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Calling 1.1
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Slayer Quest
Calling 1.1
Your name is Sarah Jones, and you'd describe yourself as an ordinary girl from an ordinary suburb. Well, maybe that's selling yourself a little short. You've always had a pretty extreme gift for sports and PE class, and if you'd been a guy you think you'd have been scouted for a pro sports team by this point in your life. You used to go to a local state school - good but not great - but your mum met a guy last year and things changed. Your birth father is long gone, and your mum won't talk about him.
Rob, your step-dad, is loaded. Most of the time, life seems the same; then he goes and buys a new TV because the old one was a bit buggy. It's a serious change in your economic station, and with that came a change in school just in time for your fourteenth birthday. Gone was the state school with it's relaxed uniform and standard-issue school hall, in was the wearing of blazers and new construction you were fairly certain costed more than it took to build your entire previous school.
Whatever your status at your last school, you were hopeful that you'd manage to fit in at your new school. It's a fair journey from your new house, but having to wake up half an hour earlier to get to school on time is only the second worst thing to happen to you this year. You've started to break things - at first just fragile things, a little too much pressure here and there. Now, though, you crushed your bathroom doorknob in pre-breakfast haze.
You'd say that you've always been stronger than average - but there's stronger than average and this. This is different. You'd feel like a drunken bull, only you seemed to have acquired a disturbing level of agility and manual dexterity. That wasn't the most disturbing part, though. Ever since this morning, you'd known how to fight.
Not just how to win a playground scuffle, but how to fight for real. At least, you thought it was for real. Most of the stuff floating around in your head seems like something from a martial arts movie; not real life. When you picked up the knife to spread some nutella on your toast, you knew how to kill some in twelve different ways with it. A dozen methods of murder with a butter knife.
Something deeply messed up was going on.
What option did you have other than going to school, though? It's not like you could just skip the first day of school, and your mum was strict about sick days. So you'd just have to suck it up and save freaking out over your super-murder-powers for tonight. After all, rich people sent their kids to this school so how bad could it be?
Whilst walking from the train station to school, through what looked like a trendy shopping district, you started to get a feeling. Calling it a feeling didn't do it justice, but you didn't know what else to call it. It felt like a cold, desperate hunger - in a very specific direction. Feeling not unjustifiably confident that you could deal with whatever was making you feel like that, you made your way off the main street. Soon you were walking into a mess of side streets and back alleys.
What you saw almost made you throw up. There, in an alley shielded from the sun, a man in ragged clothing stood over a fresh corpse. Blood was everywhere, pooling beneath a jagged gash in what had once been a woman's neck. The man standing over the woman's body, and somehow you didn't scream.
The man - no, he clearly wasn't a man - had a monstrous face and glowing eyes. Fangs extended from his mouth, gore dripping from his lips. Yet, despite every rational expectation that your instincts should be screaming 'predator' at you, they weren't. No, you felt like you wanted to fight - like you wanted to hunt. You dropped your school bag and walked forwards, excitement pounding in your brains.
"Hey lady, thi is my-" he began, but you didn't want to listen. You rushed forward, kicking off the wall of the alley into a spinning kick that collided with the creature's head. He went flying, slamming into the opposite wall of the alley. You didn't let up, slamming his head into the wall again and again.
He squirmed out of your grip, bleeding and bruised; snarling as he rushed at you. His fists seemed to be almost in slow motion, as you weaved through a fast but unskilled barrage of punches.
Instinctively, you knew how to win this fight. How to get justice for the dead woman. How to stop this creature. You smashed the top of a wooden crate, picking up a broken piece of wood and feeling it in your hand. Then, you moved. You were so fast you were almost a blur; the wood jutting out of the creature's back for a split second before it turned to dust.
You blinked as the dust began to blow away in the wind, and looked at the dead woman with one last, mournful glance before you hurried away.
At school, what are you? A geek who never really fit in, someone with an occult obsession - and perhaps the stirrings of real power - or one of the popular kids?
[x] Geek Package
[x] Wannabe Mage Package
This quest uses a slightly modified version of the BtVS RPG. Basic mechanics are 1d10+skill+attribute. 9 is one succes, see this chart for more. Combat, some other rolls are opposed. Full char sheet and more coming next update. XP and drama points will be awarded for omakes, fanart, witty or well written posts.
Calling 1.1
Your name is Sarah Jones, and you'd describe yourself as an ordinary girl from an ordinary suburb. Well, maybe that's selling yourself a little short. You've always had a pretty extreme gift for sports and PE class, and if you'd been a guy you think you'd have been scouted for a pro sports team by this point in your life. You used to go to a local state school - good but not great - but your mum met a guy last year and things changed. Your birth father is long gone, and your mum won't talk about him.
Rob, your step-dad, is loaded. Most of the time, life seems the same; then he goes and buys a new TV because the old one was a bit buggy. It's a serious change in your economic station, and with that came a change in school just in time for your fourteenth birthday. Gone was the state school with it's relaxed uniform and standard-issue school hall, in was the wearing of blazers and new construction you were fairly certain costed more than it took to build your entire previous school.
Whatever your status at your last school, you were hopeful that you'd manage to fit in at your new school. It's a fair journey from your new house, but having to wake up half an hour earlier to get to school on time is only the second worst thing to happen to you this year. You've started to break things - at first just fragile things, a little too much pressure here and there. Now, though, you crushed your bathroom doorknob in pre-breakfast haze.
You'd say that you've always been stronger than average - but there's stronger than average and this. This is different. You'd feel like a drunken bull, only you seemed to have acquired a disturbing level of agility and manual dexterity. That wasn't the most disturbing part, though. Ever since this morning, you'd known how to fight.
Not just how to win a playground scuffle, but how to fight for real. At least, you thought it was for real. Most of the stuff floating around in your head seems like something from a martial arts movie; not real life. When you picked up the knife to spread some nutella on your toast, you knew how to kill some in twelve different ways with it. A dozen methods of murder with a butter knife.
Something deeply messed up was going on.
What option did you have other than going to school, though? It's not like you could just skip the first day of school, and your mum was strict about sick days. So you'd just have to suck it up and save freaking out over your super-murder-powers for tonight. After all, rich people sent their kids to this school so how bad could it be?
Whilst walking from the train station to school, through what looked like a trendy shopping district, you started to get a feeling. Calling it a feeling didn't do it justice, but you didn't know what else to call it. It felt like a cold, desperate hunger - in a very specific direction. Feeling not unjustifiably confident that you could deal with whatever was making you feel like that, you made your way off the main street. Soon you were walking into a mess of side streets and back alleys.
What you saw almost made you throw up. There, in an alley shielded from the sun, a man in ragged clothing stood over a fresh corpse. Blood was everywhere, pooling beneath a jagged gash in what had once been a woman's neck. The man standing over the woman's body, and somehow you didn't scream.
The man - no, he clearly wasn't a man - had a monstrous face and glowing eyes. Fangs extended from his mouth, gore dripping from his lips. Yet, despite every rational expectation that your instincts should be screaming 'predator' at you, they weren't. No, you felt like you wanted to fight - like you wanted to hunt. You dropped your school bag and walked forwards, excitement pounding in your brains.
"Hey lady, thi is my-" he began, but you didn't want to listen. You rushed forward, kicking off the wall of the alley into a spinning kick that collided with the creature's head. He went flying, slamming into the opposite wall of the alley. You didn't let up, slamming his head into the wall again and again.
He squirmed out of your grip, bleeding and bruised; snarling as he rushed at you. His fists seemed to be almost in slow motion, as you weaved through a fast but unskilled barrage of punches.
Instinctively, you knew how to win this fight. How to get justice for the dead woman. How to stop this creature. You smashed the top of a wooden crate, picking up a broken piece of wood and feeling it in your hand. Then, you moved. You were so fast you were almost a blur; the wood jutting out of the creature's back for a split second before it turned to dust.
You blinked as the dust began to blow away in the wind, and looked at the dead woman with one last, mournful glance before you hurried away.
At school, what are you? A geek who never really fit in, someone with an occult obsession - and perhaps the stirrings of real power - or one of the popular kids?
[x] Geek Package
- Nerd Quality: +1 to Intelligence and Perception, +2 to Computers skill, -1 to social tests
- Misfit Drawback: -2 to influence tests at school
- Attractive 1: +1 bonus to social tests in certain situations
- Natural Toughness: +4 Armor against blunt force
- Situational Awareness: +2 to notice tests
- Iron Mind: Immunity to thought or emotion controlling spells
- +3 Points towards computers
[x] Wannabe Mage Package
- Sorcery 1: Cast spells in combat, gain a +1 bonus to various magical tests, cast spells more often without penalty, telekinesis
- Misfit Drawback: -2 to influence tests at school
- Good Occult Library Quality: take no penalty on research rolls, holds 40 spells
- The Sight: can see magic
- +4 Points towards occultism (This is what you cast magic with)
- Attractive 2: +2 bonus to social tests in certain situations
- Contact 1 [Popular Kids]: Provides rumors, gossip, etc
- Psychic VIsions: See flashes of the future at plot important points
- +5 Points towards Influence Skill (Essentially persuasion/diplomacy)
This quest uses a slightly modified version of the BtVS RPG. Basic mechanics are 1d10+skill+attribute. 9 is one succes, see this chart for more. Combat, some other rolls are opposed. Full char sheet and more coming next update. XP and drama points will be awarded for omakes, fanart, witty or well written posts.
Character Sheet
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Character Sheet & XP Rules
Name: Sarah Jones
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Life Points: 89
Qualities:
Inventory:
XP Rules:
Omakes, fan art, and good posts can be awarded XP and/or drama points. XP may be spent by its "owner" as they wish on approved qualities, skills, and attributes. Drama points gained through an omake may be used for a specified role (such as when crafting) where they give a +10 bonus to one roll or may be spent for a +2 to all rolls for a particular combat. 10 Drama points may be used to avoid a Bad End. XP may be pooled with other users.
XP will also be awarded per arc. 'Public' xp will be voted on by the thread at large. Qualities cost their listed price in the book, attributes cost 5x the new level to advance up one level, skills cost 2x the new level to advance up one level.
Name: Sarah Jones
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Life Points: 89
Qualities:
- Slayer [-16]
- Nerves of Steel: Effectively immune to fear, +4 vs extremely terrifying fear tests
- Fast Reaction Time: +5 to initiative rolls, +1 to fear tests
- Hard to Kill x5: +5 to survival tests
- Nerd Quality [-3]: +1 to Intelligence and Perception, +2 to Computers skill, -1 to social tests
- Misfit Drawback [+2]: -2 to influence tests at school
- Attractive 1 [-1]: +1 bonus to social tests in certain situations
- Natural Toughness [-2]: +4 Armor against blunt force
- Situational Awareness [-2]: +2 to notice tests
- Iron Mind [-3] : Immunity to thought or emotion controlling spells
- Minority [+1]
- Teenager [+2]
- Dependants [+3]
- Strength: 8
- Dexterity: 8
- Constitution: 8
- Intelligence: 3
- Perception: 3
- Willpower: 7
- Acrobatics: 5
- Art:
- Computers: (3+2) = 5
- Crime: 5
- Doctor:
- Driving:
- Getting Medieval: (5+1) = 6
- Gun Fu:
- Influence:
- Knowledge:
- Kung Fu: (4+1) =5
- Languages:
- Mr. Fix-It:
- Notice: 3
- Occultism: 1
- Science:
- Sports: 2
Inventory:
From the BtVS RPG Core Rulebook
Level 1: The character is below average in this Attribute. Strength 1 indicates a poor physique, either a petite or flabby, sedentary person. Dexterity 1 indicates clumsiness, someone likely to drop things—not to be trusted with delicate manual work unless the person has trained very hard to do so. Characters with a Constitution 1 are delicate and often in poor health. Intelligence 1 is below average—not mentally challenged, but certainly a bit slow on the uptake. Perception 1 depicts someone not very aware of her surroundings, likely to miss what's before her face. Willpower 1 results in a person who is easily
intimidated and influenced by others, a follower instead of a leader, and somebody who is likely to succumb to temptation.
Level 2: This is the average for human beings. Most people in any given group have Attributes at this level, typically with one or two at levels one or three. Nothing wrong with being average, but the character is unlikely to shine with such Attributes unless her skills are so high she can compensate.
Level 3: This is above average but not extraordinary. Strength and Constitution 3 show some athletic aptitude—somebody who works out at least three times a week, or a natural athlete who has not taken time to develop her talent. Characters with Dexterity 3 are graceful—good dancing partners, grabbed near the beginning in pick-up sports, unlikely to suffer from butter fingers or Klutz Syndrome. Intelligence 3 indicates a bright person who can easily learn new skills,
if she has the temperament to do so. With Perception 3, a character has good senses and intuition, and is not easily fooled or confused. Characters with Willpower 3 are rarely bluffed or bullied under normal circumstances.
Level 4: An Attribute at this level is well above average. Very few people—perhaps one out every ten in a random group—have one or two Attributes at this level. Strength and Constitution 4 can be found only in athletes (including the best football players in a large high school or college campus), extensively trained Special Forces soldiers, and other people who spend a large amount of time and effort keeping in shape. A Dexterity 4 would only be common among gymnasts, acrobats, dancers and other talented and graceful individuals. Mental Attributes at level four indicate near genius (Intelligence), highly acute senses and intuition (Perception), or an "iron will" (Willpower).
Level 5: This is the "practical" human limit. People at this level are extraordinarily talented, able to perform complex and difficult feats with little practice. While people with Attributes at level five are not record-breakers, they are among the best and the brightest. In a small or medium-sized community, only a handful of people have one or two Attributes at this level, and they are likely to be well known for their strength, wisdom, or toughness. Cities, large college campuses, and groups of demon fighters have more of these extraordinary individuals, but even there they are not common.
Level 6: This is the basic human limit. A few people with "freakish" features may exceed it (to level seven), but they are a handful even among the teeming billions living in the 21st century. Characters with one Attribute at level six are very rare, something on the order of one in ten thousand, or less. People with more than one Attribute at level six are perhaps ten times less common, and so on.
Level 7+: Now we are talking superhuman. Someone with Strength 7 would be as strong as a horse; a Dexterity 12 connotes inhuman grace; and so on. These folks can perform at a level that normal folks can hardly comprehend. Be afraid. Be very afraid
Level 1: The character is below average in this Attribute. Strength 1 indicates a poor physique, either a petite or flabby, sedentary person. Dexterity 1 indicates clumsiness, someone likely to drop things—not to be trusted with delicate manual work unless the person has trained very hard to do so. Characters with a Constitution 1 are delicate and often in poor health. Intelligence 1 is below average—not mentally challenged, but certainly a bit slow on the uptake. Perception 1 depicts someone not very aware of her surroundings, likely to miss what's before her face. Willpower 1 results in a person who is easily
intimidated and influenced by others, a follower instead of a leader, and somebody who is likely to succumb to temptation.
Level 2: This is the average for human beings. Most people in any given group have Attributes at this level, typically with one or two at levels one or three. Nothing wrong with being average, but the character is unlikely to shine with such Attributes unless her skills are so high she can compensate.
Level 3: This is above average but not extraordinary. Strength and Constitution 3 show some athletic aptitude—somebody who works out at least three times a week, or a natural athlete who has not taken time to develop her talent. Characters with Dexterity 3 are graceful—good dancing partners, grabbed near the beginning in pick-up sports, unlikely to suffer from butter fingers or Klutz Syndrome. Intelligence 3 indicates a bright person who can easily learn new skills,
if she has the temperament to do so. With Perception 3, a character has good senses and intuition, and is not easily fooled or confused. Characters with Willpower 3 are rarely bluffed or bullied under normal circumstances.
Level 4: An Attribute at this level is well above average. Very few people—perhaps one out every ten in a random group—have one or two Attributes at this level. Strength and Constitution 4 can be found only in athletes (including the best football players in a large high school or college campus), extensively trained Special Forces soldiers, and other people who spend a large amount of time and effort keeping in shape. A Dexterity 4 would only be common among gymnasts, acrobats, dancers and other talented and graceful individuals. Mental Attributes at level four indicate near genius (Intelligence), highly acute senses and intuition (Perception), or an "iron will" (Willpower).
Level 5: This is the "practical" human limit. People at this level are extraordinarily talented, able to perform complex and difficult feats with little practice. While people with Attributes at level five are not record-breakers, they are among the best and the brightest. In a small or medium-sized community, only a handful of people have one or two Attributes at this level, and they are likely to be well known for their strength, wisdom, or toughness. Cities, large college campuses, and groups of demon fighters have more of these extraordinary individuals, but even there they are not common.
Level 6: This is the basic human limit. A few people with "freakish" features may exceed it (to level seven), but they are a handful even among the teeming billions living in the 21st century. Characters with one Attribute at level six are very rare, something on the order of one in ten thousand, or less. People with more than one Attribute at level six are perhaps ten times less common, and so on.
Level 7+: Now we are talking superhuman. Someone with Strength 7 would be as strong as a horse; a Dexterity 12 connotes inhuman grace; and so on. These folks can perform at a level that normal folks can hardly comprehend. Be afraid. Be very afraid
XP Rules:
Omakes, fan art, and good posts can be awarded XP and/or drama points. XP may be spent by its "owner" as they wish on approved qualities, skills, and attributes. Drama points gained through an omake may be used for a specified role (such as when crafting) where they give a +10 bonus to one roll or may be spent for a +2 to all rolls for a particular combat. 10 Drama points may be used to avoid a Bad End. XP may be pooled with other users.
XP will also be awarded per arc. 'Public' xp will be voted on by the thread at large. Qualities cost their listed price in the book, attributes cost 5x the new level to advance up one level, skills cost 2x the new level to advance up one level.
Calling 1.2
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Calling 1.2
There's blood on your hands. Not in the metaphorical, 'I did an evil deed' kind of way - although if you hadn't seen the bloodied corpse of his last victim, you might feel bad about killing the monster. No, you have some of the monster's blood on your hands, and it's really, really fucking gross. What kind of monsters are weak to wood, anyway, you ask yourself.
Then you're brought up short by a sinking feeling. Vampires are traditionally killed via wooden stake to the heart. You don't think the dust bit is part of the folklore... at least, not the traditional folklore. Some of the webforums and occult subreddits you browse talk about creatures like the one you killed. Inhuman strength, a thirst for blood - and turning to dust upon being pierced through the heart with a stake.
You're not that into the occult, but you've been all over the web in your fourteen years of existence. You're a child of the internet era. It's a weirder world out there than some people might like to admit, but this was a step too far. Actually, it was more like long walk to far.
That returns to the problem of your bloodied hands. You can't rock up to school looking like you've just won a bare-knuckled boxing match. Looking around, you notice a public toilet and duck inside, hoping nobody else going to your school caught a glimpse of your hands. The vampire blood comes off easy enough, and as you let the warm air of the hand dryer run over your hands you feel a sense of satisfaction.
After all that, the rest of the walk to school is almost disappointing. Almost, because the facade of the school really is impressive. Two wings of yellow coloured stone branched off from a greco-roman revivalist front; and a tiny voice in your mind reminded you that this was only the middle school. Walking up the street to the school gates, you grin as you see the huge oval.
It's still the first term of the year, so Summer uniform only. That means no blazers, no ties, and very little bulshit from the teacher at the gates. Unfortunately, it also means that it's stinking hot. It's not technically summer here, but hot autumn days aren't exactly rare.
As you walk into the school, making your way through the throng of people, you feel a chill up your spine. You stand a little straighter, look a little warier. There's something here that doesn't fit, something here that's wrong in a wa-
"You can feel it, right? I saw you freeze up when you crossed over the boundary," said a female voice from behind you. You turned around, to see a girl about your age standing near to you. She had bags under her eyes, and her uniform was disheveled.
"Wha -" you manage to get out before she interrupts.
"You know, the Hellmouth? That giant beacon of evil that's overpowering every mystical sense you have?" she said, and all you can think of is that you really hope what this girl's saying is the truth, because you don't have a lot of other options for info.
"I, uh, what I mean is - look, I have no idea what you're talking about. I woke up this morning and I was really strong, and I knew how to fight, and I got into a fight with what I'm fairly certain was a -" you paused, ushered the other girl out of earshot of the other students, and continued "with what I'm fairly certain was a vampire,"
"And you're not monster food because...?" the girl asked, backing away from you a little bit.
"Weren't you listening, wizard-girl? I suddenly got really strong and knew thirty seven different ways to kill people with a butter knife. Here, I'll show you," you say, quickly bending down one of the spikes atop the iron fence surrounding the school. After the girl's eyes had bulged out of her sockets, you bent it back.
"That's, uh, very strong. Okay, I believe you could win a fight with a vampire now. I just, um don't know what could do that to you. And, um, my name's Anna. Sorry for going all weird on you back there..."
"It's okay, really. You can call me Sarah. I didn't know that vampires or wizards or whatever were real until this morning, so I'm a little, uh, out of it. I really did feel something, though, when I stepped onto the school grounds. It was creepy as - okay I was gonna say hell, but that feels a little too literal here," you say, feeling relief that someone who knows a little bit about what's going on is here.
"You might have some pretty powerful magical talent or something if you could sense the hellmouth like that. I assumed you were some new hot-shot witch at first, to be honest," Anna replied.
"Let's just keep it to one new set of terrifying supernatural powers at once, okay?"
"Makes sense. Though, we should be getting to homeroom - which one are you in?" Anna asked.
"Uh, 5A," you reply, which makes her smile.
"Yes, same one - come on, show me your schedule. Woah, we have a bunch of classes together. We both have Dr. Flannery for humanities, right? We should stick around after class, talk to him about it. He runs a kind of study group for aspiring practitioners, and if anyone knows what the fuck happened to you it's gonna be him" Anna replied, and you paused for a second to think about it.
You were fairly confidant that you could win a fight with this dude, even if he whipped out magic missiles and fireballs. Fundamentally, you're really fast, really strong, and hit like a frieght train. There's not a lot of things out there that you know of that could even take a punch from you. That being said, it might not be wise to reveal yourself to a stranger like that. On the other, other hand, you really did need to know what was going on.
[x] Ask Dr. Flannery about your newfound strength and prowess.
[x] Don't - instead, try and rope Anna into researching it with you.
There's blood on your hands. Not in the metaphorical, 'I did an evil deed' kind of way - although if you hadn't seen the bloodied corpse of his last victim, you might feel bad about killing the monster. No, you have some of the monster's blood on your hands, and it's really, really fucking gross. What kind of monsters are weak to wood, anyway, you ask yourself.
Then you're brought up short by a sinking feeling. Vampires are traditionally killed via wooden stake to the heart. You don't think the dust bit is part of the folklore... at least, not the traditional folklore. Some of the webforums and occult subreddits you browse talk about creatures like the one you killed. Inhuman strength, a thirst for blood - and turning to dust upon being pierced through the heart with a stake.
You're not that into the occult, but you've been all over the web in your fourteen years of existence. You're a child of the internet era. It's a weirder world out there than some people might like to admit, but this was a step too far. Actually, it was more like long walk to far.
That returns to the problem of your bloodied hands. You can't rock up to school looking like you've just won a bare-knuckled boxing match. Looking around, you notice a public toilet and duck inside, hoping nobody else going to your school caught a glimpse of your hands. The vampire blood comes off easy enough, and as you let the warm air of the hand dryer run over your hands you feel a sense of satisfaction.
After all that, the rest of the walk to school is almost disappointing. Almost, because the facade of the school really is impressive. Two wings of yellow coloured stone branched off from a greco-roman revivalist front; and a tiny voice in your mind reminded you that this was only the middle school. Walking up the street to the school gates, you grin as you see the huge oval.
It's still the first term of the year, so Summer uniform only. That means no blazers, no ties, and very little bulshit from the teacher at the gates. Unfortunately, it also means that it's stinking hot. It's not technically summer here, but hot autumn days aren't exactly rare.
As you walk into the school, making your way through the throng of people, you feel a chill up your spine. You stand a little straighter, look a little warier. There's something here that doesn't fit, something here that's wrong in a wa-
"You can feel it, right? I saw you freeze up when you crossed over the boundary," said a female voice from behind you. You turned around, to see a girl about your age standing near to you. She had bags under her eyes, and her uniform was disheveled.
"Wha -" you manage to get out before she interrupts.
"You know, the Hellmouth? That giant beacon of evil that's overpowering every mystical sense you have?" she said, and all you can think of is that you really hope what this girl's saying is the truth, because you don't have a lot of other options for info.
"I, uh, what I mean is - look, I have no idea what you're talking about. I woke up this morning and I was really strong, and I knew how to fight, and I got into a fight with what I'm fairly certain was a -" you paused, ushered the other girl out of earshot of the other students, and continued "with what I'm fairly certain was a vampire,"
"And you're not monster food because...?" the girl asked, backing away from you a little bit.
"Weren't you listening, wizard-girl? I suddenly got really strong and knew thirty seven different ways to kill people with a butter knife. Here, I'll show you," you say, quickly bending down one of the spikes atop the iron fence surrounding the school. After the girl's eyes had bulged out of her sockets, you bent it back.
"That's, uh, very strong. Okay, I believe you could win a fight with a vampire now. I just, um don't know what could do that to you. And, um, my name's Anna. Sorry for going all weird on you back there..."
"It's okay, really. You can call me Sarah. I didn't know that vampires or wizards or whatever were real until this morning, so I'm a little, uh, out of it. I really did feel something, though, when I stepped onto the school grounds. It was creepy as - okay I was gonna say hell, but that feels a little too literal here," you say, feeling relief that someone who knows a little bit about what's going on is here.
"You might have some pretty powerful magical talent or something if you could sense the hellmouth like that. I assumed you were some new hot-shot witch at first, to be honest," Anna replied.
"Let's just keep it to one new set of terrifying supernatural powers at once, okay?"
"Makes sense. Though, we should be getting to homeroom - which one are you in?" Anna asked.
"Uh, 5A," you reply, which makes her smile.
"Yes, same one - come on, show me your schedule. Woah, we have a bunch of classes together. We both have Dr. Flannery for humanities, right? We should stick around after class, talk to him about it. He runs a kind of study group for aspiring practitioners, and if anyone knows what the fuck happened to you it's gonna be him" Anna replied, and you paused for a second to think about it.
You were fairly confidant that you could win a fight with this dude, even if he whipped out magic missiles and fireballs. Fundamentally, you're really fast, really strong, and hit like a frieght train. There's not a lot of things out there that you know of that could even take a punch from you. That being said, it might not be wise to reveal yourself to a stranger like that. On the other, other hand, you really did need to know what was going on.
[x] Ask Dr. Flannery about your newfound strength and prowess.
[x] Don't - instead, try and rope Anna into researching it with you.
Calling 1.3
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Calling 1.3
"Could we try and keep, um, this between us for now? It seems really serious, like murder-and-mayhem serious," you say to Anna, who looks at you for a moment and nods.
"Sure, sure. You have English with Mr Adamson after homeroom, right? We share that class, so we can do research then. He lets you use your computer during class, and you can basically get away with anything if you sit at the back. Once, a kid livestreamed an entire game of LoL with commentary in Mr. Adamson's english class," Anna said, causing you to erupt into laughter as you heard exactly what you could get away with.
Homeroom isn't really too different from your old school, except for an abundance of designer jewelry in the shape of crosses and a budget for school supplies that was frankly excessive. Soon enough, you're off for English and a chance to do some online research. You're a dab hand at computers, if you by 'dab hand' you mean a near prodigy. You're only a B average student; but you really, really know computers.
You and Anna sit next to each other at the back of the class, opening up your school issued laptops as you both sit down. You take a small USB drive from your pocket, using the software contained on it to annihilate the school security software that came with the laptop. That done, it was time to do some serious research. Anna is a straight up witch, and though she's not a computer geek, she manages well enough. You, on the other hand, are a computer geek.
You dig up old BBS posts, hack into secure communities, and do a hell of a lot of google searches. You don't know much about the supernatural, but you do know a lot about the internet. Anna, on the other hand, knows a lot more about the occult and a lot less about the internet. Between the two of you though, you manage to uncover a few hints as to what might have happened to you.
You don't burn up in sunlight, don't need to drink blood, and have an instinctive knowledge of combat; so you can't be a vampire. There's been no physical changes, which means you haven't been suddenly transformed into a demon either. That leaves only one real option, a whispered myth that seems to have been deliberately scrubbed from the internet - or at least, somebody tried real hard to do so. The Slayer, one girl in all the world given the strength to fight those who might prey on humanity. To find out about her, you had to hack into a half a dozen private web forums and subreddits for vampires, at least the ones who didn't disdain modern tech.
If there were any other option, you'd be disinclined to believe it, but it's the only thing that fits. You try not to say anything out loud or look weird, but fuck you just found out that you're some sort of 'Chosen One' over the fucking internet. Anna looks at you concerned, but you're not afraid. You're relieved.
All the murder-skills stuffed into your head aren't gonna turn you into a psycho or a serial killer - nope, they're for fucking superheroics!
+++++
It's with a smile you walk into Humanities, chatting lightly with Anna. You might be good at sports, but you've never really fit in with that crowd. Perhaps if you'd been a boy, it'd have been different, but you were never popular. The two of you, though, share more than a few interests.
"So, if you really wanna learn, the Hellmouth is a really good place to do it," she says, as you take your seats.
"Really? It doesn't interfere or anything?" you ask.
"Nah, if anything it makes it easier. I'm not really into it, but there are a couple of enchanters who say that enchanted stuff needs to be really powerful to work away from a Hellmouth,"
"Huh," you reply, looking up as the mystically inclined Dr. Flannery entered the room. He was a tall man, perhaps forty years old, and seemed like he'd been a formidable man in his youth. Even in middle age, you'd call him imposing. He speaks with a soft British accent, which doesn't seem to fit his physically appearance at all.
When he gets to your name, his expression changes ever so slightly. You're sure that if you hadn't been the Slayer you'd never have caught it. That's worrying to you, to put it mildly. Could he have recognised what you are - but how? You haven't done anything that would have given you away just yet.
Your previous good mood vanishes and you're on edge the whole lesson. It's nothing out of the ordinary, standard first day stuff. You catch him looking at you with an odd expression every now and again, and you try and force yourself to be calm. Afterall, if he was really a threat, wouldn't Anna have noticed?
When the bell rings, he comes over to your desk.
"Miss Jones? I need to talk to you about some aspects of your transfer here, so if you'll just accompany me to my office?" he asks, giving Anna an odd look.
"Well, uh, I have another... another class, yeah, which I really need to be getting to right now," you say, the words slipping out of your mouth as you curse your lack of social skills.
"A class during your lunch hour? I know you don't want to miss out on any free time, but I promise it won't take long," he says, and so you get up and follow him. You can feel the Hellmouth still, a whisper in the background you haven't yet grown used to yet.
Dr. Flannery's office is a short walk away, and next to a classroom with a lock on the door and blacked out windows. The door itself looks sturdier too, though you still reckon you could force it open - and ultimately, they haven't strengthened the actual walls. When you're as strong as you are, it's often easier to just make a hole in the wall or detach the door from it's mounting.
Inside, there's all sorts of locked cabinets, some with the contents visible. They held everything from mystical paraphernalia to a sizeable collection of medieval weapons. You look around, and feel like you're pretty proficient at all of them. Your combat skills don't seem restricted to any one style or school. You recognize bits and pieces from all over the world, a lot of which are contemporary to the weapons you can see in the secure cabinets.
"Tell me, Miss Jones, have you experienced anything unusual or odd recently?" Dr. Flannery said, sitting down at his desk motioning for her to sit in one of the comfy chairs facing it.
"Well, that depends on what you'd call unusual..." you say, trying to avoid the subject, and getting ready to fight if you have to. All the weapons in the room are giving you a nasty vibe.
"A sudden, dramatic, increase in strength and speed? Skills that you've never tried to learn rushing into your head? An encounter with a vampire on the way to school this morning?" he says, his voice lifting towards the end.
"Ah, you know about that. Well, there goes my plans for this meeting. Watcha want, doc?" you say, trying to put on an air of false casualness. It's silly and panicked, but you're about two sentences away from flipping this desk in this guy's face.
"First off, let me assure you that I mean you no harm. Being trapped in a small room with a panicked slayer isn't how I plan to die. Secondly, allow me to introduce myself properly: I am Dr. Alan Flannery, member of the Watcher's Council, your Watcher, and head of our Australasian branch" he said, his accent seeming to grow stronger and posher the longer he went on.
"That's very impressive and all Mr. Watcher, but none of those titles mean anything to me. I thought you were a humanities teacher?" you ask, and so he begins his tale of one girl in all the world, destined to fight the forces of darkness. That girl being you, currently. The Watchers were supposed to be the Slayer's mentors, trainers, and mystical advisors. Some, like Flannery, were 'proper' warlocks; whereas others could only use ritual magic.
So probably not a monster looking to kill you, you conclude.
"And, well, that brings us to the meat of issue, so to speak. I can arrange for your training as the Slayer to be done under the guise of a school activity, and provide you transport for patrol-"
"Wait, patrols? Am I supposed to go wandering around graveyards at night or something?" you ask, feeling a little silly at the idea.
"Only if we know of a vampire set to rise that night. Otherwise, they infest the entire city. In some areas, they rule the entire underworld - mortal or otherwise. We'll avoid those areas for now, and instead concentrate on the edges of their territory,"
"That sounds, um, reasonable. Can you teach me magic?" you ask, eyes wide at the idea of it.
"It's not particuarly common for a Slayer to show potential as a Witch, but it has happened before - you felt the Hellmouth when you crossed the threshhold, didn't you?" he asks, and you respond with a nod. "In that case, yes. If you want to get started, my "Mythology Club" is a good place for beginners - if you really can't wait for thursday afternoons, then talk to your friend Anna. She's more than skilled enough to get you started,"
"Cool, cool. Um, what times am I going to be training?" you ask, hoping it isn't too often, then reconsidering and deciding that you want to train as much as possible for your life and death battles with the forces of evil.
"A slayer must train rigorously. I suggest a rotating schedule of lunchtimes and after-school sessions, to fit around your other commitments,"
"No way, people will think something weird's going on. Sure I can't just stay later after school or something?" you ask.
"If that's the way you want to schedule it, it can be arranged. Now, are you feeling up to a patrol tonight?" he asks
[x] Yes, and bring that sweet sword over there with you.
[x] No, I want to get settled in before I try and fight vampires.
You have 2 public xp. Please vote for 'XP Plan [user]' if you want to spend XP. Some things you could buy with your current XP:
"Could we try and keep, um, this between us for now? It seems really serious, like murder-and-mayhem serious," you say to Anna, who looks at you for a moment and nods.
"Sure, sure. You have English with Mr Adamson after homeroom, right? We share that class, so we can do research then. He lets you use your computer during class, and you can basically get away with anything if you sit at the back. Once, a kid livestreamed an entire game of LoL with commentary in Mr. Adamson's english class," Anna said, causing you to erupt into laughter as you heard exactly what you could get away with.
Homeroom isn't really too different from your old school, except for an abundance of designer jewelry in the shape of crosses and a budget for school supplies that was frankly excessive. Soon enough, you're off for English and a chance to do some online research. You're a dab hand at computers, if you by 'dab hand' you mean a near prodigy. You're only a B average student; but you really, really know computers.
You and Anna sit next to each other at the back of the class, opening up your school issued laptops as you both sit down. You take a small USB drive from your pocket, using the software contained on it to annihilate the school security software that came with the laptop. That done, it was time to do some serious research. Anna is a straight up witch, and though she's not a computer geek, she manages well enough. You, on the other hand, are a computer geek.
You dig up old BBS posts, hack into secure communities, and do a hell of a lot of google searches. You don't know much about the supernatural, but you do know a lot about the internet. Anna, on the other hand, knows a lot more about the occult and a lot less about the internet. Between the two of you though, you manage to uncover a few hints as to what might have happened to you.
You don't burn up in sunlight, don't need to drink blood, and have an instinctive knowledge of combat; so you can't be a vampire. There's been no physical changes, which means you haven't been suddenly transformed into a demon either. That leaves only one real option, a whispered myth that seems to have been deliberately scrubbed from the internet - or at least, somebody tried real hard to do so. The Slayer, one girl in all the world given the strength to fight those who might prey on humanity. To find out about her, you had to hack into a half a dozen private web forums and subreddits for vampires, at least the ones who didn't disdain modern tech.
If there were any other option, you'd be disinclined to believe it, but it's the only thing that fits. You try not to say anything out loud or look weird, but fuck you just found out that you're some sort of 'Chosen One' over the fucking internet. Anna looks at you concerned, but you're not afraid. You're relieved.
All the murder-skills stuffed into your head aren't gonna turn you into a psycho or a serial killer - nope, they're for fucking superheroics!
+++++
It's with a smile you walk into Humanities, chatting lightly with Anna. You might be good at sports, but you've never really fit in with that crowd. Perhaps if you'd been a boy, it'd have been different, but you were never popular. The two of you, though, share more than a few interests.
"So, if you really wanna learn, the Hellmouth is a really good place to do it," she says, as you take your seats.
"Really? It doesn't interfere or anything?" you ask.
"Nah, if anything it makes it easier. I'm not really into it, but there are a couple of enchanters who say that enchanted stuff needs to be really powerful to work away from a Hellmouth,"
"Huh," you reply, looking up as the mystically inclined Dr. Flannery entered the room. He was a tall man, perhaps forty years old, and seemed like he'd been a formidable man in his youth. Even in middle age, you'd call him imposing. He speaks with a soft British accent, which doesn't seem to fit his physically appearance at all.
When he gets to your name, his expression changes ever so slightly. You're sure that if you hadn't been the Slayer you'd never have caught it. That's worrying to you, to put it mildly. Could he have recognised what you are - but how? You haven't done anything that would have given you away just yet.
Your previous good mood vanishes and you're on edge the whole lesson. It's nothing out of the ordinary, standard first day stuff. You catch him looking at you with an odd expression every now and again, and you try and force yourself to be calm. Afterall, if he was really a threat, wouldn't Anna have noticed?
When the bell rings, he comes over to your desk.
"Miss Jones? I need to talk to you about some aspects of your transfer here, so if you'll just accompany me to my office?" he asks, giving Anna an odd look.
"Well, uh, I have another... another class, yeah, which I really need to be getting to right now," you say, the words slipping out of your mouth as you curse your lack of social skills.
"A class during your lunch hour? I know you don't want to miss out on any free time, but I promise it won't take long," he says, and so you get up and follow him. You can feel the Hellmouth still, a whisper in the background you haven't yet grown used to yet.
Dr. Flannery's office is a short walk away, and next to a classroom with a lock on the door and blacked out windows. The door itself looks sturdier too, though you still reckon you could force it open - and ultimately, they haven't strengthened the actual walls. When you're as strong as you are, it's often easier to just make a hole in the wall or detach the door from it's mounting.
Inside, there's all sorts of locked cabinets, some with the contents visible. They held everything from mystical paraphernalia to a sizeable collection of medieval weapons. You look around, and feel like you're pretty proficient at all of them. Your combat skills don't seem restricted to any one style or school. You recognize bits and pieces from all over the world, a lot of which are contemporary to the weapons you can see in the secure cabinets.
"Tell me, Miss Jones, have you experienced anything unusual or odd recently?" Dr. Flannery said, sitting down at his desk motioning for her to sit in one of the comfy chairs facing it.
"Well, that depends on what you'd call unusual..." you say, trying to avoid the subject, and getting ready to fight if you have to. All the weapons in the room are giving you a nasty vibe.
"A sudden, dramatic, increase in strength and speed? Skills that you've never tried to learn rushing into your head? An encounter with a vampire on the way to school this morning?" he says, his voice lifting towards the end.
"Ah, you know about that. Well, there goes my plans for this meeting. Watcha want, doc?" you say, trying to put on an air of false casualness. It's silly and panicked, but you're about two sentences away from flipping this desk in this guy's face.
"First off, let me assure you that I mean you no harm. Being trapped in a small room with a panicked slayer isn't how I plan to die. Secondly, allow me to introduce myself properly: I am Dr. Alan Flannery, member of the Watcher's Council, your Watcher, and head of our Australasian branch" he said, his accent seeming to grow stronger and posher the longer he went on.
"That's very impressive and all Mr. Watcher, but none of those titles mean anything to me. I thought you were a humanities teacher?" you ask, and so he begins his tale of one girl in all the world, destined to fight the forces of darkness. That girl being you, currently. The Watchers were supposed to be the Slayer's mentors, trainers, and mystical advisors. Some, like Flannery, were 'proper' warlocks; whereas others could only use ritual magic.
So probably not a monster looking to kill you, you conclude.
"And, well, that brings us to the meat of issue, so to speak. I can arrange for your training as the Slayer to be done under the guise of a school activity, and provide you transport for patrol-"
"Wait, patrols? Am I supposed to go wandering around graveyards at night or something?" you ask, feeling a little silly at the idea.
"Only if we know of a vampire set to rise that night. Otherwise, they infest the entire city. In some areas, they rule the entire underworld - mortal or otherwise. We'll avoid those areas for now, and instead concentrate on the edges of their territory,"
"That sounds, um, reasonable. Can you teach me magic?" you ask, eyes wide at the idea of it.
"It's not particuarly common for a Slayer to show potential as a Witch, but it has happened before - you felt the Hellmouth when you crossed the threshhold, didn't you?" he asks, and you respond with a nod. "In that case, yes. If you want to get started, my "Mythology Club" is a good place for beginners - if you really can't wait for thursday afternoons, then talk to your friend Anna. She's more than skilled enough to get you started,"
"Cool, cool. Um, what times am I going to be training?" you ask, hoping it isn't too often, then reconsidering and deciding that you want to train as much as possible for your life and death battles with the forces of evil.
"A slayer must train rigorously. I suggest a rotating schedule of lunchtimes and after-school sessions, to fit around your other commitments,"
"No way, people will think something weird's going on. Sure I can't just stay later after school or something?" you ask.
"If that's the way you want to schedule it, it can be arranged. Now, are you feeling up to a patrol tonight?" he asks
[x] Yes, and bring that sweet sword over there with you.
[x] No, I want to get settled in before I try and fight vampires.
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