The New League: Roleplay [Revived!]

[Shade.]

Originally Posted by Willowfern

Kingston narrowed their eyes. Dear Lord this kid was already on a high horse. Good citizen? Pshaw! League kids were so full of themselves nowadays.
Kingston tried their best to wipe off as much of the coffee as they could, barely listening to the kid’s advice, though they did make note of it and decide that what more harm could come to their shirt if the kid’s words were false? They’d try it. They dumped out the remaining coffee into a bush.
“A cinnamon roll?” They echoed, an eyebrow raised. Hardly worth a cent of their costly shirt, but why not? As they reached for a cinnamon roll, the idea of the rolls possibly being poisoned flitted across their mind, and they batted it away irritably. There was no possible way that this klutz was trying to kill them, “Sure, why not,” They muttered, taking one and biting into it, eyes once again roving over the kid and analyzing him, “This isn’t too bad,” They observed.
@Shade.

A smile lit up Cain's face as the stranger appreciated his cookery. Ever since he was left on his own, he received even more cooking practice than back when it was a hobby and not a necessity. He liked to cook vegetarian whenever he could but he ate meat as well. Specific meals tasted really good and weren't the same without it.
"I'm glad you like them! See, the secret is that you have to measure exactly how much cinnamon-Hold on, I just remembered I'm late! Excuse me, I have to go. It was nice talking to you, sorry about your shirt though, byee!" he said as he ran off oast the stranger and up the street.

[dino.]

Originally Posted by naiad

Covey had just about decided to go down and get breakfast when a small commotion suddenly echoed through the otherwise silent room. He jumped, wings flaring out slightly with alarm as a he spun around to locate the source of the noise.

There, peeking around the corner, was a ludicrously tall person - easily a foot taller than Covey and with a few inches to spare. He found himself thankful that he had kept the shawl of his hood pulled up over the lower half of his face, hiding the fact that his jaw had dropped. It was only when the other person spoke that he came to his senses and composed himself some.

“Hello,” Covey returned the greeting. His feathers began to smooth themselves from their ruffled state as he began puzzling what exactly this guy did to make such a noise. “Did you knock something over?” Oh, did that sound accusatory or something? Crap. “I wouldn’t tell if you did,” he quickly backpedaled, “but, uh. Yeah. Sick mask by the way.” Geez, running into someone up here had really scattered his thoughts - to be fair though, it was a pretty cool mask.

Raphael Acker (Ice Hound) - he/him - Rigor's Personal Museum

Raph quickly rechecked the mask again, making sure it was secure, as the person (who was SHORT, by the way, he just wanted to note that somewhere. and were those wings??) approached him. He glanced from the stranger to the item that teetered on the edge and then back again. "Uh. No. It was... totally like that when I got here. Yep."

It was a terrible lie.

"Oh, my mask?" Raph smiled, and the corners of his eyes crinkling were the only indication that he did so. "Thanks! Your wings are really cool, too. I don't think I've ever seen that before. Say, I don't think we've met? I'm R- er, Ice Hound."

No need to go about spilling identities, now, was there? Still smiling, he held out a hand.

[beau]

 

Originally Posted by Shade.

Raina wasn't really offended by the sarcastic comment, she was aware of social norms but was pointedly ignoring them. No point to fit into a society that didn't care about you one bit. Her light brown eyes scanned the papers in her hand once more.
"They'reasking uf theres any technical issues in your sleeping quarters like lights and outlets malfunctioning. They also need to know how much of the provided budget you're using." she said matter if factly. These questions mostly didn't apply to her as she did not live in the tower and wasn't a minor who needed financial support. She did get paid of course but that was different.

( @Willowfern sorry if im making a lot of stuff up, i tried to make it as generic/close to what you'vetold me as possible.)

Dang, not even a hello back, huh? Well, Covey supposed not everyone could simply radiate positively such as himself. He crossed his arms over his chest as he considered - gosh, he was so glad he wasn’t the one filling out this kind of paperwork. He just knew it would wind up crumpled and forgotten in some dark corner of his room or stuffed in his desk.

Malfunctioning outlets.. “There’s an outlet in the corner of my room, by the foot of my bed. The plug kept falling out and not connecting to the electricity right. I had to move one of my plants” It was a pain and a half to find somewhere else to put that plant and its LED lamp - he ended up moving his luggage set to the corner where the lamp had been and swapping places with the plant. He elected to not elaborate on that story - he had a feeling X just wanted to keep things on topic.

As for budget, well at least Covey was good at tracking his expenses. Math had always been one of his better subjects and his mom put him onto helping with the budget at home as soon as possible. “I’m using.. like, 70-80% of the budget I would say? On necessities - I usually have a decent amount left over for other things.” Honestly, he wasn’t surprised there were so many older teens who opted to live at the tower - cost of living was much more manageable here compared to college from what Covey had heard.

 

Originally Posted by dino.

Raphael Acker (Ice Hound) - he/him - Rigor's Personal Museum

Raph quickly rechecked the mask again, making sure it was secure, as the person (who was SHORT, by the way, he just wanted to note that somewhere. and were those wings??) approached him. He glanced from the stranger to the item that teetered on the edge and then back again. "Uh. No. It was... totally like that when I got here. Yep."

It was a terrible lie.

"Oh, my mask?" Raph smiled, and the corners of his eyes crinkling were the only indication that he did so. "Thanks! Your wings are really cool, too. I don't think I've ever seen that before. Say, I don't think we've met? I'm R- er, Ice Hound."

No need to go about spilling identities, now, was there? Still smiling, he held out a hand.

Covey’s brows raised slightly as he listened to the strangers explanation while watching the still-wobbling object settle back on its platform, more humored than anything. He had no real right to press the issue - he would have said the same thing.

The mention of his wings, as usual, caught his attention. Covey was surprised he wasn’t at the point of tuning out comments about them yet, but for some reason those remarks stood out more than any others. The stranger then introduced himself as R….ice hound. As entertaining as the name Rice Hound might have been, Covey had a feeling that it was probably Ice Hound - an equally, if not more cool name than Rice Hound.

“Oh, thanks.” He extended his hand to complete the handshake. He could swear he could hear the echoes of his mother drilling in how to do a proper handshake. If it’s weak people will think you’re untrusty. Advice which Covey had found to be rather useless overall. “I’m Fledgling.” Truthfully, Covey had no qualms about sharing real name, but blah blah league policy and all that. An extra layer of security never hurt, he supposed. “So, what brings you to the museum? Usually it’s pretty quiet up here.”

[dino.]

Originally Posted by naiad

Covey’s brows raised slightly as he listened to the strangers explanation while watching the still-wobbling object settle back on its platform, more humored than anything. He had no real right to press the issue - he would have said the same thing.

The mention of his wings, as usual, caught his attention. Covey was surprised he wasn’t at the point of tuning out comments about them yet, but for some reason those remarks stood out more than any others. The stranger then introduced himself as R….ice hound. As entertaining as the name Rice Hound might have been, Covey had a feeling that it was probably Ice Hound - an equally, if not more cool name than Rice Hound.

“Oh, thanks.” He extended his hand to complete the handshake. He could swear he could hear the echoes of his mother drilling in how to do a proper handshake. If it’s weak people will think you’re untrusty. Advice which Covey had found to be rather useless overall. “I’m Fledgling.” Truthfully, Covey had no qualms about sharing real name, but blah blah league policy and all that. An extra layer of security never hurt, he supposed. “So, what brings you to the museum? Usually it’s pretty quiet up here.”

Raphael Acker (Ice Hound) - he/him - Rigor's Personal Museum

"Fledgling. That's cool," he responded genuinely. Briefly he wondered what this guy's actual name is, which then spiraled into the thought that 'what if it kind of matched his real name?' and then to 'how many others have aliases similar to their real names?' and then finally to 'wouldn't that be kind of dangerous?'. It seemed like Raph zoned out for a moment, and then he pulled his hand back with a quiet laugh.

"I come up here once and a while to take this mask off. It's been uncomfortable lately, I think I might have damaged it. Been meaning to get it tweaked. Usually I don't see anyone else up here. Why are you here?"

A pause, and then he added, rather sheepishly, "That sounded accusatory. I swear I didn't mean it like that."

[Red Dawn]

Stanley Watts- he/him- Somewhere around the Enemy containement cells

He lifted the visor of his helmet to wipe the fog on it, his face still hidden by a black balaclava, he finally decided to not lower it and grabbed his M4A1, continuing his guard duty in the perimeter, as he walked, he passed near an other patroling guard whom he saluted with a nod, the other responded and continued before disappearing at the corner of the corridor, the end of the patrol was near, he kept walking to the end of the corridor, finally arriving there, he took the talkie walkie at his belt and said, after opening the channel "Here's Stanley Watts, my patrol is over", he putted back the talkie walkie at his belt and entered the elevator, an other guard will take his place, he was sure about that...


Changing place, Stanley Watts, he/him, Cafeteria

The elevator opened on the vast cafeteria, he directed himself directly at the nearest restaurant, took something to eat after he paid it and went to sit on a random bench, he took over his helmet to remove the balaclava before putting it back on his head, he then took the first food he had under his hand and started to eat, he stopped and opened a pouch, taking his old sergeant stripes and looked at them...
[Open!]

[beau]

[ covey walsh | mass commons ]

Flour dusted every surface within a two-foot radius of the winged boy, including himself. Covey leaned down to squint at his batter-smeared phone, cursing under his breath as he mumbled his way through the recipe again. Why did everything have to be in grams? As good as he was at math he most certainly did not have measurement conversions memorized. And celsius? Like hell he knew those temperatures in farenheit off the top of his head. He had been eyeballing things up to this point, but clearly it wasn’t working out.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaving chocolate-batter fingerprints on his face, and began searching for a measurement converter site. There was probably a scale in this kitchen somewhere, but he wasn’t digging that up. “Ok let’s see.. that’s one tablespoon of salt.” Of course, as soon as he added the tablespoon his brain registered it asked for a teaspoon, rather. Shoot. He squinted at the batter. It would probably be okay, right? Yeah, totally - it was supposed to be zesty anyways. At the thought, he cast a side glance to the oranges scattered around the counter alongside the rather intimidating zester.

Covey tapped back over to the tab with his recipe and groaned as it jumped to the top of the page. He was going to have to scroll through the author’s whole life story again to find the freaking recipe. He set the phone on the counter face-down, a little harder than was probably necessary and heaved a huge sigh - he hadn’t even started on the frosting yet. Why, why had his mother made it tradition to make this stupid chocolate orange cake for birthdays. Yeah, Covey was an adult who could make whatever cake, but it wouldn’t feel right if it was any other flavor. Besides, he was too deep into things now to just scrap the baking idea and get a cake from a bakery.

[ @WinterMara in case you’re still interested in this! ]

[Willowfern]

. Oh my God, kid, Kingston thought as the kid began to launch into the whole ass story about how to make cinnamon buns. They’d been starting to warm up the the kid for a moment, he didn’t seem to be the worst of the League’s little gang of babies, but the little warmth that had been stirring in Kingston’s chest towards the superzero was quickly quashed as he launched into it, I don’t need or want to hear it, I’ll be late to work.
. Thankfully, the superzero quickly realized that time was a thing, and he began to leave, telling Kingston (who could really care less), that he was going to be late.
. Normally, Kingston would let a kid that young leave them without any bit of consequence, but as this one had ruined their shirt and coat and was a League kid to boot, they decided it was only appropriate to leave the parting sting of an intrusive thought into his innocent little mind.
. No one will ever remember you when you’re gone as anything but a klutz and an annoying time-waster, Kingston drew the sentence in their own brain before tossing the thought into the kid’s brain with practiced ease.
. There, that should throw him off a bit. Take some pep out of his step. Serves him right for ruining my day.

[ @Shade, ]

[WinterMara]

| Ace Walsh/ Windwaker | Mass Comms | @naiad |

As Ace, or, Windwaker right now, was just doing a few things in the Mass Commons, she noticed Fledgling, baking? Hm, what was he baking anyway and why, I mean he could be into it, but she wasn’t sure if he was. Well, it wouldn't hurt to try and find out, besides, he seemed to be having trouble and there may be a small chance she could help. “Hey, um, Fledgling right? What’cha doing?” That seemed like a good way to start the conversation.

[bubble[error].]

~~Ciara~~

{ Open }

Ciara sighed, sitting on a tree nearby the New League Tower. She knew her power wasn't normal. She knew her life as a New League Member hopes were for nothing. Moving quickly, the assassin leaped off the tree and ran back to the city before anybody could spot her. She clenched her fingers, thinking about a life she could have had. But those rules were just so stupid... She couldn't follow those things... It was just so dumb... Stop for a moment, Ciara... It's your life... She walked through the streets, not knowing what to do.

[Estelle]

Vesper was silent as she leaned against the lobby wall, patiently waiting for, well, anyone really. She greeted incoming workers with their nine-to-five (or eight-to-five, in this case), giving a gentle dip of her head with a polite little smile to each person that walked by, some returning the friendly gesture - and some not. But the young girl hardly minded; they had a job to do, were busy people with fluctuating emotions, and were often occupied. Whether they returned her friendly greeting changed little to her day, though it was rarely a bother if they did.

With little to do, she scanned the lobby's surroundings for no apparent reason; just a simple look around until the twinkle of fairy dust pleasantly pulled the young girl from her mundane thoughts. A slight, genuine, smile crept on lips. She needn't look at the screen or even take out her phone to know who this message was from; you see, Vesper enjoyed assigning different ringtones to different people. That way, she knew whether a message may be important, ignorable, from her aunt or from a pleasant being. The sound of fairy dust being that of a friend; or, more accurately, a close friend. In this case Hera. Even for that she needn't take out her phone; Vesper didn't have many friends, let alone close friends. For that reason Hera was singular in her ringtone, and may as well remain so even if Ves ever found another close friend, unlikely as it was. She enjoyed knowing when she received a message from the older woman, and just as much enjoyed knowing who the message was from without ever needing to look at her phone. It was practical.

With little more hesitation, Vesper pulled the electronic device from her pocket, opening it up to see the comedic response, causing the girl to grin. Walking down the streets like a zombie, read the message, a response she could expect from Hera. Luckily, Vesper knew that should Hera truly be walking down the streets like a zombie, she'd likely be late and unable to reply over the phone - so there was little cause for worry (lest she be one of those fast zombies, and one with an excellent mind, which Vesper didn't plan on for they were meant to be braindead).
"Nothing much, just waiting for others to show up."
She typed a quick reply, sending the first part before she could start the second. You?, was what Vesper had begun typing out, though by then the young pink-haired girl had already spotted her friend walking up to the building. Deleting the few letters she'd typed and stuffing away her phone (after turning it off, of course) Vesper regained a more correct stature by not leaning against the wall and taking a few steps forward. There, she greeted Hera with a smile.

"You make me sound like a child, but I'm fine, thank you."
She mused lightly, a bit teasingly - she'd grown accustomed to the nickname, after all - head tilting and straight pink hair following suit. She then raised her chin a tad bit, head tilting the other way ever so slightly - it was a silent way of returning Hera's question, though, Phantasia was soon caught by another one of Hera's. Oh dear. Taken aback by the sudden comment her face lowered, a light embarrassed blush creeping onto her cheeks.
...She knew exactly what Hera was alluding to. Despite their slight difference in age, they got along just fine and would spend free time together every so often, such as the time they watched Tarzan at her aunt's place. It had just been the two of them, luckily, her aunty, much as she loved her, might've not let her live it down. Then again, Hera wasn't either. You see, barely were they one minute into the movie, and Vesper was already in tears. But could you blame her? The parents - the music - the sights - the situation - Two worlds, one family; how could she not tear up at that? Though, it was something she would prefer keeping between the two of them.
"No, I haven't had the time. But it's not as though you've never teared up in front of a movie."
There must have been one, Vesper was certain, that made Hera tear up - or maybe even cry. Was it the titanic? Some tragedy, or a drama? Ah, it was on the tip of her tongue.

Hm, a sudden thought popped up in the girl's mind, shifting her gaze from light laughter to sudden and momentarily fixate on Hera. Had she heard the news about the two murders? Probably, but... Hm.
"What will you be doing for Victory Day?"
She decided to ask that instead, small smile returning to her face. Victory Day was a much nicer topic of conversation than murders.


[ @Epiphany ]