A band of people, six in number. They were just a bit outside a run-down building, one of many...
These Glory Days (Exalted x World of Darkness)
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Ch-1
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
A band of people, six in number. They were just a bit outside a run-down building, one of many in the windy city. The hoods and bandanas they had on suggested nothing good, the eyes and the upper area of their faces the only thing showing in the what little light there was. But the weapons they carried? The weapons they had promised nothing good. A shotgun, a handgun, of course, typical. Urban violence ran unchecked in this city, and these were the normal tools of that trade. The 21 century made dealing death easier than ever, and this was exemplified by firearms, murder coming sooner than ever from the barrel of a gun. Yet the others held more out of place weapons, something that suggested this group was...strange. A knife, a baseball bat, normal enough, then stranger things, a wooden spear, a clenched fist, fingers topped with nails that looked more like claws. They looked like gang members or some other low life criminals, besides that bit of..oddness, but they weren't. Mostly.
Tonight? They were monster hunters. As it turned out, bloodsuckers wised up once a few of them turned up dead. The group had already done that much, and so finding vampires was harder than killing them. Not they weren't well equipped to do both, they were changed these nights. Moonlight raced in the veins of the unarmed one, savage power warping his form. Stars thrummed in the eyes of the gun touting pair, fate lending its power upon its chosen. The sun shone upon the club-wielding female, impossible skill just waiting to be channeled. A bloodline of ten thousand heroes left their legacy upon the woman with the green hair, her blood running with the strength of the wilds. Something darker tainted the one with the knife, death seeping with every step he took, the power of the grave bent to his service.
It was going to be a simple matter. The man they had...questioned, that they had freed, both from actual chains and ones forged by blood, had promised that much. It was just going to be a meeting of a few of those...creatures. They thought themselves hidden, so the group didn't have to expect much resistance besides whatever power the vampires brought. Still, they were prepared, fate spun over their minds to protect them, power surging through their frames in the manner they saw fit. The bulkier male, he took the front, snapping a rusted lock with his hand.
He was greeted by bullets as shit hit the fan. His pupils dilated as his reflexes sharpened to inhuman levels for those precious few seconds. Duck a little, turn a few of the small metal projectiles aside with an arm, step aside. His soul burst into color around, a shining silver beacon lighting up the warehouse. He saw now that it wasn't going to be a simple matter at all, and that man they had freed had fucking lied to them. The warehouse had a lot more than a few people in it, and he doubted all of the people pointing guns at him were vampires. He didn't have time to take a count, but it was at least a dozen. Still, he pushed forward, slamming his fist into one man's shoulder, turning the bone inside to little more than powder, inhuman strength mixing with primal magic to cause a grievous wound. The man's group all reacted quick enough to the change of circumstance, the female first to jump into the fray. Her work was horrifying in its artistry. Before triggers could even be struck again she had already destroyed the kneecaps of several of her foes, moving in a blur of violence, to fast for most of the men firing to even track. All that could be seen from their eyes was a golden glow.
A wooden spear was thrust into the mess of bodies, striking true into someone's chest. Another one was already forming in the verdant haired women's hands, like a tree branch sprouting in a sped up video. The two gunslingers fired shots into the opposing side, letting luck guide their shots into vital parts. One of the opposing men had finally lined up a shot on the pistol touting female, right before he died, gurgling blood, drawn by a blade he saw a little too late. Even with the surprise ambush, they had set up, the other side was dying in droves. By the time the one actual bloodsucker leaped into the fray, it was a too little, too late. She was young, a sacrificial lamb of sorts. A violent, type, someone already slipping away from humanity, likely to rush in swinging her relatively new might. The older vampires were crafty types….they figured they shouldn't risk themselves, should their plan go up in flames. Much like it currently was.
The group knew nothing of this, of course, and she was struck down with a bat burning like the light of the sun she was starting to miss. Soon enough, the rest of that side joined her in being taken down, either knocked out or dead. It was over, the hunters triumphant over their supernatural prey. They basked in the glory of their victory, in the thought of one less monster hurting the innocent. The woman with the emerald hair spoke up first.
"So, do you think we still have time for pizza and movie night or..?"
The question was a burning one. After all, most of them were still but kids. They might have been inheritors of ancient power, they might have been slayers of what lurked in the dark, they might even be the saviors of this world likely to brought to the brink one day. But now that the fight was over? Now they were still just a group of friends, kids really, worried about high school. Mostly. The adult of the group kept a grim thought to himself, letting it echo in his head.
"Are they...am I...are we going to be doing this for the rest of our lives?"
Tonight? They were monster hunters. As it turned out, bloodsuckers wised up once a few of them turned up dead. The group had already done that much, and so finding vampires was harder than killing them. Not they weren't well equipped to do both, they were changed these nights. Moonlight raced in the veins of the unarmed one, savage power warping his form. Stars thrummed in the eyes of the gun touting pair, fate lending its power upon its chosen. The sun shone upon the club-wielding female, impossible skill just waiting to be channeled. A bloodline of ten thousand heroes left their legacy upon the woman with the green hair, her blood running with the strength of the wilds. Something darker tainted the one with the knife, death seeping with every step he took, the power of the grave bent to his service.
It was going to be a simple matter. The man they had...questioned, that they had freed, both from actual chains and ones forged by blood, had promised that much. It was just going to be a meeting of a few of those...creatures. They thought themselves hidden, so the group didn't have to expect much resistance besides whatever power the vampires brought. Still, they were prepared, fate spun over their minds to protect them, power surging through their frames in the manner they saw fit. The bulkier male, he took the front, snapping a rusted lock with his hand.
He was greeted by bullets as shit hit the fan. His pupils dilated as his reflexes sharpened to inhuman levels for those precious few seconds. Duck a little, turn a few of the small metal projectiles aside with an arm, step aside. His soul burst into color around, a shining silver beacon lighting up the warehouse. He saw now that it wasn't going to be a simple matter at all, and that man they had freed had fucking lied to them. The warehouse had a lot more than a few people in it, and he doubted all of the people pointing guns at him were vampires. He didn't have time to take a count, but it was at least a dozen. Still, he pushed forward, slamming his fist into one man's shoulder, turning the bone inside to little more than powder, inhuman strength mixing with primal magic to cause a grievous wound. The man's group all reacted quick enough to the change of circumstance, the female first to jump into the fray. Her work was horrifying in its artistry. Before triggers could even be struck again she had already destroyed the kneecaps of several of her foes, moving in a blur of violence, to fast for most of the men firing to even track. All that could be seen from their eyes was a golden glow.
A wooden spear was thrust into the mess of bodies, striking true into someone's chest. Another one was already forming in the verdant haired women's hands, like a tree branch sprouting in a sped up video. The two gunslingers fired shots into the opposing side, letting luck guide their shots into vital parts. One of the opposing men had finally lined up a shot on the pistol touting female, right before he died, gurgling blood, drawn by a blade he saw a little too late. Even with the surprise ambush, they had set up, the other side was dying in droves. By the time the one actual bloodsucker leaped into the fray, it was a too little, too late. She was young, a sacrificial lamb of sorts. A violent, type, someone already slipping away from humanity, likely to rush in swinging her relatively new might. The older vampires were crafty types….they figured they shouldn't risk themselves, should their plan go up in flames. Much like it currently was.
The group knew nothing of this, of course, and she was struck down with a bat burning like the light of the sun she was starting to miss. Soon enough, the rest of that side joined her in being taken down, either knocked out or dead. It was over, the hunters triumphant over their supernatural prey. They basked in the glory of their victory, in the thought of one less monster hurting the innocent. The woman with the emerald hair spoke up first.
"So, do you think we still have time for pizza and movie night or..?"
The question was a burning one. After all, most of them were still but kids. They might have been inheritors of ancient power, they might have been slayers of what lurked in the dark, they might even be the saviors of this world likely to brought to the brink one day. But now that the fight was over? Now they were still just a group of friends, kids really, worried about high school. Mostly. The adult of the group kept a grim thought to himself, letting it echo in his head.
"Are they...am I...are we going to be doing this for the rest of our lives?"
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- Location
- Texas
That's a pretty big crew to have already linked up and aligned goals. I hope we see more of the backstory. There's a Solar, a Lunar, two Sidereals, an Abyssal, and a Dragon-Blooded. If this is using the Exalted vs World of Darkness fanbook put out by Holden, the Dragon-Blooded sticks out like a sore thumb. Especially in a party with an Abyssal.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
A Wood-Aspect DB at that. A Fire-Aspect would be more suited. Still, this should be interesting.
shulkerbox
free gender radicals (ze/hir)
- Location
- not here
holy shit you actually did it you madman (well manus published his thing first but you've been working on this before that so, that makes you the first madman)
it's time for a bunch of teenagers to kick in the teeth of the collective world of darkness (along with one very, very stressed high school teacher / chosen of battles)
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
You will!
Oh, she does in more ways than one, you'll see.
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
Man the WoD part of this crossover is feeling real left out.
So... which version of the WoD are you using?
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
Oh, this takes place in OWOD. More specifically, this takes place(mostly) in a fanmade supplement made for Exalted in OWOD.
Yeah, the CofD is kind of an intentional mess. More importantly, Exalted was never originally conceived as a prehistory for it (and increasingly it wouldn't fit; the CofD's history is a more fantastical mundane history for good reason).
I like the Chronicles of Darkness, but porting Exalted over there is probably the kind of thing you do to initiate the apocalypse. More so than the World of Darkness.
Ch-2
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
"Of course, we're staying the night. Did you forget that?"
The girl currently glowing like the sun responded in short order. She took a few deep breaths, sucking in oxygen rather quickly, the dull ache in her muscles already starting to fade. The green haired female blushed, twiddling her fingers in embarrassment. The sun blessed girl quickly added a statement, not intending to cause that reaction.
"Oh, it's not a big deal! I forget some of this stuff is new to you, you know? Don't sweat it, Daisy."
Daisy smiled brightly, enveloping her teammate in a hug. The distance she covered to accomplish this feat was honestly impressive, given how little time it seemed to take her.
"Oh, you always know what to say, Mary!"
Mary wasn't quite sure how to figure out her friend, sometimes. Ever since Mary had met her she'd been a puzzle to the other girl. She was young, like the same age as her counterpart, even. But she didn't seem to have parents, or at least, she didn't talk about them. She acted like a fish out of water half the time, seeing mundane things as marvels, and seeing weird shit they had all encountered as par for the course. She was a bubbly, sweet thing, and she was always so...touchy. Still, she had Mary's back, and Mary had her back. She was a damn good friend to have in Mary's eyes, even if she did hug it out a little too often.
Whilst those two exchanged affection in the background, the teen bathed in the light of the moon was checking the girl with stars in her eyes. He didn't even seem winded, despite the fight. Yet worry crossed his eyes, she wasn't exactly the most durable member of this team. She, for her part, just rolled her eyes at the concern.
"Milo, I know to move away from the bullets. I don't try to catch them with my face, like you do."
Despite the casual snark in her voice, she was doing the same task he was, sighing when she saw red staining one of his sleeves. The girl drew his attention to it an expectant hand gesture to the wound. Milo sighed as he began to peel off his concealing hoodie, pulling up a sleeve to see a bullet halfway lodged into his arm. It was a dull ache, blood coming forth at an almost sedate pace. He debated pulling it out, but he knew that could be a bad idea. He wasn't exactly a medic. Best to let Daisy take a look at it. Thankfully, blood didn't really show up too much on a red shirt.
"My face can take bullets. You would squeal if you bruised your pinkie, Chloe."
Milo had rolled his eyes but knew what he had said wasn't true. She could take the pain, but he could handle wounds better. It was his job, his duty to protect the rest of the group, and he would bear it with a smile. Well, a smile on the inside, he couldn't let the rest think he was getting "soft." He let out a soft chuckle.
"Don't laugh at your own jokes, mutt. It's kinda sad."
Milo perked up, opening his mouth. This was going to be a back and forth for a while, it seemed. Meanwhile, in another bit of a warehouse, the boy cloaked in death was casting his gaze over one of the broken bodies. He turned to the male beside him.
"Nice shot James."
He pointed his knife at one of the bodies, a hole right in between the eyes evident, leaking blood and other...things. His tone was almost business-like like, despite the surroundings. Honestly, both thought the smell was awful, but they weren't exactly in a hurry to mention that thought.
"Good work on not being seen."
Jame's tone was different. It was flat, not even holding coldness like the other male tried to put on. He was just ready to get back home, let these kids be kids at his house. By the time the glows had died down in the room, everyone was ready to pack up their shit and leave. Milo had grown smaller, a less savage look on him. The power coursing through his muscles had faded, no longer needed. He took point, calling up an ember of that power, not to grow his strength, but to sharpen his senses. He didn't think the group would bump into anyone looking too closely at them, but never hurt to be aware.
Luckily, his vigilance didn't need to come into play, the walk to their destination utterly uneventful. The warmth of the house they entered was a welcome counterpart to the chill of the outside, even with the layers they had on. They were starting to fully peel those off, letting down a weight on their shoulders. Muscles grew slack, and lips curled into soft smiles. Chloe practically raced off into her kitchen, ready to begin work. She had already raised the dough for these pizzas beforehand, so now was the time to make some delicious food. Jame's smile grew wider at his daughter's antics. He remembered, when she first came to his home, how guarded she was. It was the kitchen where he had first broken through that shell, baking together with the woman who truly grew to be his daughter. Mary spoke up, an enforced casualness in her voice.
"I always dig this place, Mister Smith. Hey, do you mind if I stay here a couple days longer?"
James just nodded, softly. He knew not to broach that subject any more than needed. Daisy hummed a tune, something unfamiliar to the rest of the group, taking off her shoes with grace and skipping into the room. Milo bent down to take off his rather well-worn sneakers, gritting his teeth as his stiff arm throbbed with pain. It was started to cramp up, even as the bleeding had stopped. The death soaked teen entered, silently, but his friends could tell he was soaking up the joy in this place. He might not be the expressive sort, if only because he thought to be touchy-feely wasn't befitting of his "badass" image, but there were clues you could pick on after a year or two. Or, in the case of Daisy, introduced so late to the group, after a day.
Milo nudged Daisy, swallowing some pride. It wasn't that he thought himself above pain, above injury. He just hated feeling weak in front of the people he cared about. Still, his trust rose above the shame, and he just wordlessly gestured to his arm, the bullet still sticking out. He offered a shaky smile as his only explanation.
"Oh! Oh! You stay right here! I'll be back, and I'll get rid of that quick as the wind!"
Daisy moved away, sprinting full force to the medical supplies James kept. Mary wordlessly checked out Milo, curious to see what wound he got. She winced when she saw the bullet wound, offering a sympathetic smile. Milo waved off her concern, staying put just as requested as she went to grab whatever she could find to drink in the fridge.
Daisy came back with the first aid kit, waving to the teen looking for a place to sit whilst still running.
"I like your shirt, Bob!"
It was the same style of shirt he always wore. Black on black. Well, to be fair, this one's skull decal was pretty small. Still, "Bob" offered a small, genuine smile at the comment. Daisy, once she arrived next to Milo, grabbed her patients hand, practically dragging the larger male onto the couch. Soon, her faces struck a pose of concentration, a single flower blooming in her hair, soon joined by others as she used the first aid supplies like a world-class surgeon, feeling the life in Milo's flesh sing at her touch. Soon, the bullet hole was naught but a fading bruise, the bullet its self delicately plucked.
Meanwhile, Mary's rummaging in the fridge bore fruit. In this case, fruit juice. She smiled widely, already pouring herself a glass of the bright orange stuff, trying to mind Chloe, who was moving like a woman possessed. Already she was working on a sauce that smelled wonderful. Yet, she knew better to interfere with her when she was like this. No matter if she was cooking, coding, or working on whatever weird bullshit magic she did, she got...very intense whenever she was crafting. She meandered over to the couch area, casting eyes over the television. It was playing some show, clearly the first channel it had when it first was turned on. Rituals must be observed, and they hadn't picked tonight's entrainment officially.
Time meandered on. The pizzas were in the oven, and it was time. It was time for the first movie to be picked. Chloe plugged in her computer to the television, queuing Netflix. First up were Milo and Mary. They faced each other, eyes focused, faces tight. They spoke as one.
"Rock. Paper. Sissicors..go!"
Milo's hand was stretched out in the imitation of a pair of scissors, and Mary's was bundled up like a fist. Milo groaned but smiled good-naturedly. Next, Bob and Chloe. They spoke the fated words and laid out their hands. Bob chose paper. Bob lost, Chloe smirking, and Bob rolling his eyes. James squared up with Daisy, her face surprisingly neutral for her. Three pounds of a fist. James has chosen rock and Daisy had...chosen gun.
"Dammit, who taught her how to do that?"
Everyone stayed silent, but Bob was laughing at his pupil's antics. On the inside. James shook his head, but let that one slide. Daisy slide over to Mary, a lazy grin creeping on her face. Mary spoke right before the game commenced.
"You can't just pull the gun thing twice."
Then, he began. She chose to be a rock again, crushing Daisy's scissors flat. She smiled brightly, just happy her friend won. Despite the fact that her friend won against her.
Mary and Chloe finally squared off, the air radiating with the power of this matchup. It happened. Three smacks. Three moments. Mary had chosen to be rock, just one final time. Chloe had chosen to be scissors, not expecting someone to actually choose rock three times in a row. Chloe was disappointed. Mary did a victory cry, before declaring a simple statement.
"Yes! We are going horror for our first film, you guys won't even know what hit you!"
Chloe rolled her eyes as she went to grab the pizza, but she too was smiling. Mary did have decent taste in horror flicks if a little too focused on creatures rather then physiological thrillers.
This was going to be a fun night for all of them.
AN-I think the difference in word count between a badass all-out brawl against a dozen men or so and an immortal monster as compared to a pizza party says something about me.
The girl currently glowing like the sun responded in short order. She took a few deep breaths, sucking in oxygen rather quickly, the dull ache in her muscles already starting to fade. The green haired female blushed, twiddling her fingers in embarrassment. The sun blessed girl quickly added a statement, not intending to cause that reaction.
"Oh, it's not a big deal! I forget some of this stuff is new to you, you know? Don't sweat it, Daisy."
Daisy smiled brightly, enveloping her teammate in a hug. The distance she covered to accomplish this feat was honestly impressive, given how little time it seemed to take her.
"Oh, you always know what to say, Mary!"
Mary wasn't quite sure how to figure out her friend, sometimes. Ever since Mary had met her she'd been a puzzle to the other girl. She was young, like the same age as her counterpart, even. But she didn't seem to have parents, or at least, she didn't talk about them. She acted like a fish out of water half the time, seeing mundane things as marvels, and seeing weird shit they had all encountered as par for the course. She was a bubbly, sweet thing, and she was always so...touchy. Still, she had Mary's back, and Mary had her back. She was a damn good friend to have in Mary's eyes, even if she did hug it out a little too often.
Whilst those two exchanged affection in the background, the teen bathed in the light of the moon was checking the girl with stars in her eyes. He didn't even seem winded, despite the fight. Yet worry crossed his eyes, she wasn't exactly the most durable member of this team. She, for her part, just rolled her eyes at the concern.
"Milo, I know to move away from the bullets. I don't try to catch them with my face, like you do."
Despite the casual snark in her voice, she was doing the same task he was, sighing when she saw red staining one of his sleeves. The girl drew his attention to it an expectant hand gesture to the wound. Milo sighed as he began to peel off his concealing hoodie, pulling up a sleeve to see a bullet halfway lodged into his arm. It was a dull ache, blood coming forth at an almost sedate pace. He debated pulling it out, but he knew that could be a bad idea. He wasn't exactly a medic. Best to let Daisy take a look at it. Thankfully, blood didn't really show up too much on a red shirt.
"My face can take bullets. You would squeal if you bruised your pinkie, Chloe."
Milo had rolled his eyes but knew what he had said wasn't true. She could take the pain, but he could handle wounds better. It was his job, his duty to protect the rest of the group, and he would bear it with a smile. Well, a smile on the inside, he couldn't let the rest think he was getting "soft." He let out a soft chuckle.
"Don't laugh at your own jokes, mutt. It's kinda sad."
Milo perked up, opening his mouth. This was going to be a back and forth for a while, it seemed. Meanwhile, in another bit of a warehouse, the boy cloaked in death was casting his gaze over one of the broken bodies. He turned to the male beside him.
"Nice shot James."
He pointed his knife at one of the bodies, a hole right in between the eyes evident, leaking blood and other...things. His tone was almost business-like like, despite the surroundings. Honestly, both thought the smell was awful, but they weren't exactly in a hurry to mention that thought.
"Good work on not being seen."
Jame's tone was different. It was flat, not even holding coldness like the other male tried to put on. He was just ready to get back home, let these kids be kids at his house. By the time the glows had died down in the room, everyone was ready to pack up their shit and leave. Milo had grown smaller, a less savage look on him. The power coursing through his muscles had faded, no longer needed. He took point, calling up an ember of that power, not to grow his strength, but to sharpen his senses. He didn't think the group would bump into anyone looking too closely at them, but never hurt to be aware.
Luckily, his vigilance didn't need to come into play, the walk to their destination utterly uneventful. The warmth of the house they entered was a welcome counterpart to the chill of the outside, even with the layers they had on. They were starting to fully peel those off, letting down a weight on their shoulders. Muscles grew slack, and lips curled into soft smiles. Chloe practically raced off into her kitchen, ready to begin work. She had already raised the dough for these pizzas beforehand, so now was the time to make some delicious food. Jame's smile grew wider at his daughter's antics. He remembered, when she first came to his home, how guarded she was. It was the kitchen where he had first broken through that shell, baking together with the woman who truly grew to be his daughter. Mary spoke up, an enforced casualness in her voice.
"I always dig this place, Mister Smith. Hey, do you mind if I stay here a couple days longer?"
James just nodded, softly. He knew not to broach that subject any more than needed. Daisy hummed a tune, something unfamiliar to the rest of the group, taking off her shoes with grace and skipping into the room. Milo bent down to take off his rather well-worn sneakers, gritting his teeth as his stiff arm throbbed with pain. It was started to cramp up, even as the bleeding had stopped. The death soaked teen entered, silently, but his friends could tell he was soaking up the joy in this place. He might not be the expressive sort, if only because he thought to be touchy-feely wasn't befitting of his "badass" image, but there were clues you could pick on after a year or two. Or, in the case of Daisy, introduced so late to the group, after a day.
Milo nudged Daisy, swallowing some pride. It wasn't that he thought himself above pain, above injury. He just hated feeling weak in front of the people he cared about. Still, his trust rose above the shame, and he just wordlessly gestured to his arm, the bullet still sticking out. He offered a shaky smile as his only explanation.
"Oh! Oh! You stay right here! I'll be back, and I'll get rid of that quick as the wind!"
Daisy moved away, sprinting full force to the medical supplies James kept. Mary wordlessly checked out Milo, curious to see what wound he got. She winced when she saw the bullet wound, offering a sympathetic smile. Milo waved off her concern, staying put just as requested as she went to grab whatever she could find to drink in the fridge.
Daisy came back with the first aid kit, waving to the teen looking for a place to sit whilst still running.
"I like your shirt, Bob!"
It was the same style of shirt he always wore. Black on black. Well, to be fair, this one's skull decal was pretty small. Still, "Bob" offered a small, genuine smile at the comment. Daisy, once she arrived next to Milo, grabbed her patients hand, practically dragging the larger male onto the couch. Soon, her faces struck a pose of concentration, a single flower blooming in her hair, soon joined by others as she used the first aid supplies like a world-class surgeon, feeling the life in Milo's flesh sing at her touch. Soon, the bullet hole was naught but a fading bruise, the bullet its self delicately plucked.
Meanwhile, Mary's rummaging in the fridge bore fruit. In this case, fruit juice. She smiled widely, already pouring herself a glass of the bright orange stuff, trying to mind Chloe, who was moving like a woman possessed. Already she was working on a sauce that smelled wonderful. Yet, she knew better to interfere with her when she was like this. No matter if she was cooking, coding, or working on whatever weird bullshit magic she did, she got...very intense whenever she was crafting. She meandered over to the couch area, casting eyes over the television. It was playing some show, clearly the first channel it had when it first was turned on. Rituals must be observed, and they hadn't picked tonight's entrainment officially.
Time meandered on. The pizzas were in the oven, and it was time. It was time for the first movie to be picked. Chloe plugged in her computer to the television, queuing Netflix. First up were Milo and Mary. They faced each other, eyes focused, faces tight. They spoke as one.
"Rock. Paper. Sissicors..go!"
Milo's hand was stretched out in the imitation of a pair of scissors, and Mary's was bundled up like a fist. Milo groaned but smiled good-naturedly. Next, Bob and Chloe. They spoke the fated words and laid out their hands. Bob chose paper. Bob lost, Chloe smirking, and Bob rolling his eyes. James squared up with Daisy, her face surprisingly neutral for her. Three pounds of a fist. James has chosen rock and Daisy had...chosen gun.
"Dammit, who taught her how to do that?"
Everyone stayed silent, but Bob was laughing at his pupil's antics. On the inside. James shook his head, but let that one slide. Daisy slide over to Mary, a lazy grin creeping on her face. Mary spoke right before the game commenced.
"You can't just pull the gun thing twice."
Then, he began. She chose to be a rock again, crushing Daisy's scissors flat. She smiled brightly, just happy her friend won. Despite the fact that her friend won against her.
Mary and Chloe finally squared off, the air radiating with the power of this matchup. It happened. Three smacks. Three moments. Mary had chosen to be rock, just one final time. Chloe had chosen to be scissors, not expecting someone to actually choose rock three times in a row. Chloe was disappointed. Mary did a victory cry, before declaring a simple statement.
"Yes! We are going horror for our first film, you guys won't even know what hit you!"
Chloe rolled her eyes as she went to grab the pizza, but she too was smiling. Mary did have decent taste in horror flicks if a little too focused on creatures rather then physiological thrillers.
This was going to be a fun night for all of them.
AN-I think the difference in word count between a badass all-out brawl against a dozen men or so and an immortal monster as compared to a pizza party says something about me.
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shulkerbox
free gender radicals (ze/hir)
- Location
- not here
"James Smith"
"Daisy"
I'll take fake-ass names for 10,000, Alex.
also daisy chooses gun is fucking hilarious
I can't wait for this group of combat monsters to finally find themselves back in high school, lol
"Daisy"
I'll take fake-ass names for 10,000, Alex.
also daisy chooses gun is fucking hilarious
I can't wait for this group of combat monsters to finally find themselves back in high school, lol
- Location
- Texas
On the one hand, it's a good look at the group dynamics. On the other hand, it's slapping us in the face, screaming "These are the group dynamics!" I feel that it may have been better to pick one POV character per scene, rather than jumping in and out of everybody's head willynilly.
Also, as far as high school cliches go, we've got the "troubled badass with a hidden heart of gold," the "super cheerful fish out of water", the "sane adult just looking out for these damned kids", "macho guy who doesn't want to look weak in front of the girls", "girl with a troubled home life", etc.
I mean, I still like it. I've got a weakness for "Wake up, go to school, save the world" stories that goes back to Buffy. But this chapter didn't really sell me on these guys being an actual group of people rather than a bunch of characters constructed from tropes.
Also, as far as high school cliches go, we've got the "troubled badass with a hidden heart of gold," the "super cheerful fish out of water", the "sane adult just looking out for these damned kids", "macho guy who doesn't want to look weak in front of the girls", "girl with a troubled home life", etc.
I mean, I still like it. I've got a weakness for "Wake up, go to school, save the world" stories that goes back to Buffy. But this chapter didn't really sell me on these guys being an actual group of people rather than a bunch of characters constructed from tropes.
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
Ohhhhh. No, she doesn't have troubled home life, at least, not what you are thinking of.
He's just like like that with everyone he cares about. Even his parents, which frustrates them to no end.
...alright fair, but it's plated copper at best! And he's not really a badass per say. He's just...edgy.
Also fair, but I don't usually see these people in teen fiction so I'm gonna to claim an author's pass. Maybe. Hopefully.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
So, does that mean this makeshift Circle is gonna have to cancel Gehenna somehow?
… Meh, all in a chronicle's work for Exalted. Especially 5 Celestials, with a tagalong Terrestrial.
… Meh, all in a chronicle's work for Exalted. Especially 5 Celestials, with a tagalong Terrestrial.
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
Also super fair, as a side note. There are other elements at play here, but yeah, some this character traits have been well worn before in various forms of media.
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
Milo is the Lunar, Chloe is one half of the Sid pair, Mary is the Solar, Daisy is the dragon blooded, and James is the other half of the Sid pair.
- Location
- my house
It would have been helpful to spend some time in the begining of the first chapter describing each character more fully, as well as giving their names in the begining. As it is you did things like refer to "the muscular one did this" before actually describing any of them as muscular
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
Ah, thank you. I must admit, I'm not a very visual orenieted person, so bits like that tend to be some what difficult for me.
Ch-3
Kalzky
The Patron Saint Of Thowing Stuff In The Sun
- Location
- MI
A grin played upon my lips. No, that was too delicate. I was smirking like a madman. I had a strong urge to gloat, to rub my victory into that nerd's face. I didn't, of course. She might have been a geek that had an unhealthy obsession with data, but she was still my friend. Plus, I'm fairly sure she has my internet history. I can't piss her off too much. There are secrets I needed to keep to my chest.
Nobody needed to know about my tastes in shoes. Nobody. I browsed through Netflix, joy flooding my veins from the selection. Milo's parents didn't have Netflix, and I'm still pretty sure Daisy lived in a forest somewhere. I did still wonder if Bob had Netflix at his house. His parents didn't like him staying alone at home with a girl. They were just...like that. It's a wonder how they managed to raise someone so completely unlike them. Nice folks though. Nobody who provides baby pictures of my favorite edgy music buddy can be all that bad. His face was priceless. And...and. A frown grew on my face, despite my wishes not to revisit, to dwell. My parents never had Netflix. I shook my head, banishing the gory site that still played in my dreams. Dammit, there was pizza. Not now.
I saw a decent looking flick, recent enough. I clicked, letting it load up. Chloe had already grabbed some pizza, Milo came with towels, Daisy snatched up the paper plates, Bob had fetched some of those big bottles of soda, and James provided the cups. Teamwork was awesome.
"You know, there are more genres of film than horror. Just think, you could watch a western! A high octane action flick! Are you even sure that you haven't seen this one before?" Chloe's snarky tone spoke up behind me, a plate of pizza offered alongside a cheeky grin.
"And the sun is something you should see more often. You know, not behind a window." I accepted the slices with the fakest, brightest smile I could manage. Her mouth opened, but Milo spoke first.
"You two are gonna to miss the movie, and 'we' didn't pick a drama film." He didn't even sound irritated. Milo was weird. Well, all of my friends were weird, but his weird was close to my weird, yet...different. He wasn't an angry, aggressive person, not like me. But he could get angry. Furious. And he was always ready for a scrape. Yet, he didn't go about getting into them. I wanted to fight, my fist is in someone's face. Milo wanted to fight, he was in front of someone else. More of a warden then a warrior, I guess. Still, he could take a punch like no else I knew, and he was downright scary when he decided to apply that iron will of his.
I still could take him. Well, not in a fist fight. Probably. Mock fights weren't a good judge of who would actually win. And I was always better with something in my hands rather than just decking someone. Still, the move was finally starting starting, and so my thoughts swirled away, replaced with a rapt interest in the scene playing out on the screen.
The movie turned out pretty good. Well, decent. It didn't manage to squeeze out a scream from anyone, but there were some flinches. I checked. Bob was the first to break the silence.
"Not bad. Not bad at all." He cracked a slight smile. He always did lighten up a bit after food. Well, food and my, well, if I was being fair, our wonderful company. Still, it was nice to see him relaxed. He had been a bit uptight lately which is saying something considering how he normally is.
"That's some high praise, shadow-boy!" His smile curled at Chole's words, still friendly, but now more playful.
"You bring back shadow-boy, I bring back witch-bitch. That way, we will both be stuck with shitty nicknames." Chole raised her hands in mock surrender. She had second place, so that meant she got the second pick of movies, so she didn't really have time to go back and forth. Her voice rang out, fake high class.
"How very quaint that you mention that title, sir! For my next pick of movie has to do with witchcraft. It is in fact, a documentary on the very subject." I groaned, and I felt the others groan with me. Chole wasn't going to watch that movie. Chole was gonna to rip it apart. Still, I settled in, ready for long, long rants. I chugged my soda, relishing in the fruity taste, wishing, for only for a moment, that I was old enough to not get looks for drinking booze.
The next hour, hour and a half were exactly how I pictured it the moments before it started. Well. James jumping in was slightly unusual, but still. It was at least welcome to see those two argue on the finer points of the symbolism of fire. Even if James did lose the argument. Badly. Daisy practically lept out her seat, quickly switching on the first action film she saw. Guess that's her thing now. For the week, at least. That girl switched tastes faster then I could blink. I still think she came from the woods, somewhere. Maybe she's actually a tree spirit.
Nah, that's dumb. It was dumb when Milo talked about moon spirits, and it's dumb for tree spirts to exist. I felt a fist curl as I thought about the things that did exist. Things would be better once those monsters were all ash.
The action movie passed in a blur. By now, we were getting tired. Conversation slowed, and we just focused on getting through the move picks remaining. James also picked out an action film. It kept us awake at least. Bob picked a crime drama of some kind. I mostly tuned it out, eyes fluttering. It involved the mafia, I think? Things were kinda blurry.
By the time Milo put on his nature documentary, I was yawning and had my eyes shut more often then I had them closed. Daisy and Bob were draped over me on the floor, soundly asleep. Chole was leaning on Milo, fast asleep. I could hear Jame's snoring as I drifted off, with a single question echoing in my mind.
How the fuck was Milo never tired?
AN-And with that, the party comes to a close, I try out writing in the first person for this story, and people snark. A lot. Next up, high school!
Nobody needed to know about my tastes in shoes. Nobody. I browsed through Netflix, joy flooding my veins from the selection. Milo's parents didn't have Netflix, and I'm still pretty sure Daisy lived in a forest somewhere. I did still wonder if Bob had Netflix at his house. His parents didn't like him staying alone at home with a girl. They were just...like that. It's a wonder how they managed to raise someone so completely unlike them. Nice folks though. Nobody who provides baby pictures of my favorite edgy music buddy can be all that bad. His face was priceless. And...and. A frown grew on my face, despite my wishes not to revisit, to dwell. My parents never had Netflix. I shook my head, banishing the gory site that still played in my dreams. Dammit, there was pizza. Not now.
I saw a decent looking flick, recent enough. I clicked, letting it load up. Chloe had already grabbed some pizza, Milo came with towels, Daisy snatched up the paper plates, Bob had fetched some of those big bottles of soda, and James provided the cups. Teamwork was awesome.
"You know, there are more genres of film than horror. Just think, you could watch a western! A high octane action flick! Are you even sure that you haven't seen this one before?" Chloe's snarky tone spoke up behind me, a plate of pizza offered alongside a cheeky grin.
"And the sun is something you should see more often. You know, not behind a window." I accepted the slices with the fakest, brightest smile I could manage. Her mouth opened, but Milo spoke first.
"You two are gonna to miss the movie, and 'we' didn't pick a drama film." He didn't even sound irritated. Milo was weird. Well, all of my friends were weird, but his weird was close to my weird, yet...different. He wasn't an angry, aggressive person, not like me. But he could get angry. Furious. And he was always ready for a scrape. Yet, he didn't go about getting into them. I wanted to fight, my fist is in someone's face. Milo wanted to fight, he was in front of someone else. More of a warden then a warrior, I guess. Still, he could take a punch like no else I knew, and he was downright scary when he decided to apply that iron will of his.
I still could take him. Well, not in a fist fight. Probably. Mock fights weren't a good judge of who would actually win. And I was always better with something in my hands rather than just decking someone. Still, the move was finally starting starting, and so my thoughts swirled away, replaced with a rapt interest in the scene playing out on the screen.
The movie turned out pretty good. Well, decent. It didn't manage to squeeze out a scream from anyone, but there were some flinches. I checked. Bob was the first to break the silence.
"Not bad. Not bad at all." He cracked a slight smile. He always did lighten up a bit after food. Well, food and my, well, if I was being fair, our wonderful company. Still, it was nice to see him relaxed. He had been a bit uptight lately which is saying something considering how he normally is.
"That's some high praise, shadow-boy!" His smile curled at Chole's words, still friendly, but now more playful.
"You bring back shadow-boy, I bring back witch-bitch. That way, we will both be stuck with shitty nicknames." Chole raised her hands in mock surrender. She had second place, so that meant she got the second pick of movies, so she didn't really have time to go back and forth. Her voice rang out, fake high class.
"How very quaint that you mention that title, sir! For my next pick of movie has to do with witchcraft. It is in fact, a documentary on the very subject." I groaned, and I felt the others groan with me. Chole wasn't going to watch that movie. Chole was gonna to rip it apart. Still, I settled in, ready for long, long rants. I chugged my soda, relishing in the fruity taste, wishing, for only for a moment, that I was old enough to not get looks for drinking booze.
The next hour, hour and a half were exactly how I pictured it the moments before it started. Well. James jumping in was slightly unusual, but still. It was at least welcome to see those two argue on the finer points of the symbolism of fire. Even if James did lose the argument. Badly. Daisy practically lept out her seat, quickly switching on the first action film she saw. Guess that's her thing now. For the week, at least. That girl switched tastes faster then I could blink. I still think she came from the woods, somewhere. Maybe she's actually a tree spirit.
Nah, that's dumb. It was dumb when Milo talked about moon spirits, and it's dumb for tree spirts to exist. I felt a fist curl as I thought about the things that did exist. Things would be better once those monsters were all ash.
The action movie passed in a blur. By now, we were getting tired. Conversation slowed, and we just focused on getting through the move picks remaining. James also picked out an action film. It kept us awake at least. Bob picked a crime drama of some kind. I mostly tuned it out, eyes fluttering. It involved the mafia, I think? Things were kinda blurry.
By the time Milo put on his nature documentary, I was yawning and had my eyes shut more often then I had them closed. Daisy and Bob were draped over me on the floor, soundly asleep. Chole was leaning on Milo, fast asleep. I could hear Jame's snoring as I drifted off, with a single question echoing in my mind.
How the fuck was Milo never tired?
AN-And with that, the party comes to a close, I try out writing in the first person for this story, and people snark. A lot. Next up, high school!
Last edited:
- Location
- Texas
Consistency. Consistency is the hallmark of good writing. It allows you to lay a bedrock for your story to build on, and grants your readers a sense of familiarity as they read so that it has more of an effect when you depart from the expected. In this case, you have been using a limited third-person omniscient point of view. You aren't beholden to it, but when you change it, it should matter. The chapter should be one that stands out in other ways, so that the point of view merely accents and enhances that divide. Many authors choose to include "interlude" chapters with a POV that differs from the rest of the story and stands alone, while still servicing the main narrative.
So, here we are, three chapters in, and I still haven't spent enough time with these guys to remember who's who. At this point, you should be using names more than descriptors to highlight characters. And I definitely don't know whose head I am in now, unless I go back and reread the first two chapters and the authorial clarifications.
Finally, and this is maybe the most important, nothing happens. We're only in chapter three. Unless this story is slice-of-life, and the introductory chapter made it seem more like an action-horror dramedy, we don't need to slow down and see the team in their off-time. Sure, the characters need to blow off steam, but your readers are wondering why we're three chapters in and the plot hasn't started beyond an in media res cold open and some dialogue that offers up some barebones characterization but no glimmers of development or story arcs.
So, here we are, three chapters in, and I still haven't spent enough time with these guys to remember who's who. At this point, you should be using names more than descriptors to highlight characters. And I definitely don't know whose head I am in now, unless I go back and reread the first two chapters and the authorial clarifications.
Finally, and this is maybe the most important, nothing happens. We're only in chapter three. Unless this story is slice-of-life, and the introductory chapter made it seem more like an action-horror dramedy, we don't need to slow down and see the team in their off-time. Sure, the characters need to blow off steam, but your readers are wondering why we're three chapters in and the plot hasn't started beyond an in media res cold open and some dialogue that offers up some barebones characterization but no glimmers of development or story arcs.