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you talk about yourself here. the things on top are for you to link to your characters' profiles, and i guess choose your favorite face claim for the big images!

also, if you go on for too long, this will scroll and that's pretty legit tbh

alias here
you talk about yourself here. the things on top are for you to link to your characters' profiles, and i guess choose your favorite face claim for the big images!

also, if you go on for too long, this will scroll and that's pretty legit tbh

alias here
you talk about yourself here. the things on top are for you to link to your characters' profiles, and i guess choose your favorite face claim for the big images!

also, if you go on for too long, this will scroll and that's pretty legit tbh


 
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 A little treat, Taste of things to come
Neph
 Posted: Apr 19 2015, 09:16 PM
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Member
Group: Production
Posts: 27
Joined: 30-October 13
Age: N/A
Location: N/A
Status: Offline



So I know it has been awhile since any of us have posted, and I know that admins are trying to get this site back in gear and looking a lot more streamlined. But, in the meantime, I wanted to say that I miss you all, my characters miss all your characters, and I hope that this post might convince you to return or reach out to other members and do some plotting. The post is about Logan Young, my bully jock, and depicts an episode I could see happening in the future. Enjoy.

Logan stood before his open locker and the bench in front of it, the din of the crowd flooding the stands as well as the noise his teammates were making was drowned out by his music player; blue ear buds firmly in place while he suited up. It was his pre-game ritual to listen to a specific playlist because it helped him get ready, to get in the right mindset for the game soon to start.

His head began to bob in time with the music, his movements quickened as the beat of the song, Hall of Fame, flooded his ears. It was almost like a dance, a routine his body naturally followed, this pad first, that article of clothing next, each item donned as he mentally affirmed how each helped him. This is how it started; how he immersed himself in the game before he'd even stepped out on the field.

The last song of the playlist, if anyone knew what it was, would probably reward him with a few odd looks. I See Fire, the cover done by Peter Hollens, gives him that last little bit he needs for the game ahead. To many it would confuse them that he'd choose such a song, but they couldn't know how it spoke to him, how the melody haunted him as the words made him think about how they were a team, they either won or lost together, they needed each other and needed to work together if they wanted that victory.

As he slipped his jersey over all his pads and the song reached its' last chorus, a strange feeling came over him, almost like he was sick to his stomach and he had to rest his hand against a shelf in his locker as his eyes closed tight, trying to regain his composure. When his eyes opened again, he no longer saw his locker or the bench, but an open field; random fires created a deep haze of smoke that made it hard to see very far in front of him. He turned slowly, his gaze now viewing a battlefield, bodies littering the ground, others retreating towards him, while the smoke continued to billow upward. A man came clearly into focus as he ran up, clad in armor with blood staining his doublet. The man placed his hand on Logan's shoulder, his countenance one of determination and haste. The man started to yell something, but Logan could hear nothing; the man's lips repeating something over and over.

He finally returned to find one of his teammates shaking his shoulder and calling his name. "Logan, you alright man?" Logan looked around once more, his breathing a little heavier as he searched for the battlefield he had seen before, but all that was before him was the locker room and his teammates once again. He nodded his head, meeting his teammates' gaze, "Yeah, yeah I'm alright. Must have got caught up in the ritual you know?" He gave a nervous laugh, but before the teammate could ask anything else, they were told it was time to get out there. He ripped the buds from his ear and tossed the music player in his locker, slamming it shut. He paused as he picked his helmet off the bench, taking a few deep breaths before placing the final piece on. With that piece, everything drifted away; school, life, even the episode he just had. Because now he was ready, he was clad in his own form of armor, and it was time for him and his fellow Knights to go into battle.
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