this is Salem, a land filled with magic and maladies. It is a place where witches and their elemental familiars gather, a home to legend and
lore that predates time itself. Yet of all the wicked and wonderful stories the past can tell us of, the most magical are the ones yet to happen.
This is Salem - this is the start of your very own journey. Welcome to starfall
Starfall is an animaga witch roleplay set in mostly modern times. Members play as witches in a world plagued by monsters, where the only safe spots are walled cities. Starfall strives to be a character-driven roleplay with expansive lore and a highly interactive plotline. We want to allow members to
create and look back on a magical journey, and mold the site and its plot as their characters grow.
“A life within a life, a dream within a dream. If you do not wake up, do you obtain immortality?”[break] -Unknown, Unknown Grimoire.[break][break] the character is in a library-- there’s a small crowd of five around the particular section; a few people the character may or may not know. there seem to be fewer books, although the library itself is looking just as bright if not brighter than it usually is. They are doing whatever they are likely to be doing, contemplating about the events of the previous day, or the night before, or just musing to themselves. The setting is entirely normal, and there is no ominous dark cloud or really anything dreadful at all. But then-- the character wakes up. [break][break] Suddenly and with a jolt, like they have been having a nightmare this whole time (despite the fact they can, almost vividly, recall what they were doing minutes before). They wake up in a museum, the Sundial Museum of all places (as bustling as ever, though this section seems more quiet). Whether they jolt while standing up, or perhaps they had (apparently) been resting on a bench is up to you. The people around them begin to wake up as well, all in different situations but all seemingly just as lost. But the thought strikes and strikes hard-- had they really been sleeping?? It had certainly felt so real...[break][break] And aren’t those the same people they had seen in the library-- correction-- in their seeming dream of the library?
Cassius was in the library. He remembered being in the library. He was standing around, talking to some people about the recent incident regarding the assassination. He remembered Juliet, Ai, a rather calm man with darker hair and pale-er skin, a darker skinned fellow with a snake-like charm to his voice that reminded Cass a little too much of home. He remembered standing, discussing the events.
And then he bolted awake. It was a sudden jump, as if from a nightmare he couldn’t remember. His head still swam about him, the room slowly coalescing from the jumbled watercolor it first resembled. His thoughts didn’t form, ideas and images swirling about, as if existence in itself were wrong before coming together to show him his surroundings.
He found himself on a wooden bench. Judging from his posture, he had just woken up from a dream. But that couldn’t have been the case, he was talking very seriously, and remembered vividly having been in the middle of a sentence leaning against a bookshelf. The contradictory thoughts clashed in his head, giving him a massive headache that he was sure would only be aggravated by his familiar.
But there was nothing.
The emptiness felt foreign and wrong.
He looked around him, in a first attempt to deduce where his familiar had gone and why he currently felt nothing. His only response was a section of the Sundial Museum, a few people walking by laughing, chatting, living. But they felt wrong. This section was sparse, their faces seemed all but impossible to distinguish, and he felt as though they were moving by as if by separate frames in a painting he could not distinguish the form of.
He found himself confused. His senses, while muffled began coming back, the crowd slowly seeming to hit a normal pace, the sounds of their venturing growing ever louder, like an approaching coastline. He noticed then the slight pressure against his arm and, glancing over, noticed the small form of Ai slumped against it beginning to move. He found this strange, as he had just seen her in what he could only rationalize away at this point being a dream, but the more he looked around, the more loose ends began to dangle in front of his face.
He saw, scattered about the room and beginning to wake the forms of Juliet and the two men he had been talking to earlier. He glanced around, trying to formulate a next course of action. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t know what, but he wasn’t about to be caught off guard. “We need to wake up…” he began mumbling, repeating himself a few times as his feelings of uncertainty grew, growing to a firm announcement to the group of “We need to wake up, now!” He himself, would spend the beginning portion helping Ai up, as she was the closest to him, before looking to the others, trying to piece together some sort of cohesive narrative about what led up to this moment. Coming together with the others in a circle, he would look about the room, keeping an eye out for anyone, or anything that might have done this.
“What is the last thing the rest of you remember?”
[attr="class","m2content"]maddox is not a dreamer -- not any more than any other leviathan who breathes chaos and thinks of reform. but within the library, his mind doesn't quite seem to be all there; the group ponders the recent assassination, but he can't find himself to add more, nor does he recognise the strangers within their little gathering. an idle tilt of the head, stretching, and the light threatens to hurt his eyes. his attention turns back to the conversation, wondering why he has let himself be dragged into near-political discussions, knowing he needs to find out more; then a blink stretches too long into darkness suddenly he's--[break][break]
falling.[break][break]
substance is slow to bleed back into the world when he opens his eyes; he's scrabbling for anything solid, shifting his weight, feet pressing harder against the floor, hands gripping the edge of the bench with the desperation of a drowning man. a weight gradually makes itself known on his shoulder; his eyes drift sideways, and sima is there, real and breathing, and maddox's fingers drift to his wrist, clutching a little tighter, voice drawn tight. "sima. hey, sima--" a little louder, suddenly afraid if there's no response. "wake up."[break][break]
instinct dictates he look for moosely. ( his gaze turns inward to: no response. empty. ) his fingers drum on the bench, the rapid beat of his heart a runaway rhythm as he thinks / tries to think: the library, the conversation held within, and then this. for a moment, he considers, and finding no words to say, gives a wordless tug in the direction of the slow-gathering group. his legs are shaky when he stands, but fierce denial and stubbornness does wonders; he is steady by the time he reaches the group.[break][break]
he scans familiar ( as familiar as a brief meeting warrants ) faces, eyes focusing with hawk-like intensity on the first to speak. ( needs something real, something to distract him from the fact that there's something missing, something wrong with everything. ) maddox wrings his hands, nails digging into skin, little red cresents forming on his wrist. "the library," he responds flatly, looking around at the entire group now. "with all of you, actually."
[attr="class","m2icons"]
[attr="class","m2icons2"]
[attr="class","m2hov2"]ONE MAN'S OBSESSION IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRASH
[attr="class","intext"]He felt comfortable. The library was nice and sunlight filtered in through the skylights above. It seemed a little bright, but he attributed it to how he'd been cooped up inside for the past few days. Perhaps his eyes just weren't used to sunlight anymore. He talked quietly to Maddox, quiet even for a library. They discussed the recent workings of the coven, the recent assassinations, all of it it vague and in pre-established code spun to sound like idle gossip. They were talking about politics, unsurprisingly, because Sima was trying to dig himself deeper into coven affairs. He was tired of sitting on the sidelines, he wanted to dig his fingers in because the interesting missions and information? They were all in deeper.
And then he was awake. Jolted violently as if he'd been falling and just about to hit the ground. His breath caught in his throat and for several racing heartbeats he didn't move. Couldn't move. The fear stole away his control over his body but Maddox brought it back. He looked afraid and Sima didn't like it. "Maddox, I—" And he blinked as if he was only just now seeing, "Wait, where—? The museum?" His attention snapped back to Maddox, whose hand he quickly gathered up in his own. "I thought we were at the library?" He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. No, it was just a dream, wasn't it? A vivid one, but a dream nonetheless? They'd fallen asleep on some benches and Maddox fell off and scared himself awake. Made sense. Except for the fact that others were asleep and last time he checked, museums don't have designated napping spots and if they did, he expected them to have some mats to lay on instead of benches and linoleum tiles. And the guy violently shaking everyone else awake and yelling. Sima already didn't like him. They could do without the shouting, thanks, and his panic just made him want to keep information to himself. Sucks that you had a shitty dream but— "The library. With all of you, actually." His head snaps to Maddox and his mind was suddenly racing a million miles a minute. "I thought it was just me. I thought it was just a dream." He looked back at the others who seemed to agree, "What's it matter? We were there and now we're here with no idea of how we got from A to B. Either someone teleported all of us, which doesn't sound realistic, or maybe we all shared a dream. The question is was that the dream? Or is this the dream?" He looked around carefully. He expected this area of the museum to be a little busier, but it wasn't like it was suspiciously empty. The library, however? That had felt off. Scarcely populated bookshelves just threw a red flag in his head and the memories of such bright light didn't help. But maybe they were shifting things around. Inventory. Replacing beat up copies with new ones. There was a logical explanation for it all just like how it wasn't necessarily unusual that this part of the museum might not be as busy as expected. Time of day. Recent events. A special exhibit drawing away attention. Maybe this exhibit just sucks. He couldn't wrap his head around it. He couldn't rationalize which one was real and which one wasn't.
"Hey, baby, help me up, please?" He brushed himself off a little bit once up on his feet, "And can you, like, stand there? Yeah, right there, just like that." Dear sweet Maddy began to ask why, but Sima cut him off. You can't get hurt in dreams, right? Just like when you're falling in your sleep, you wake up before you hit the ground and when you dream of your own death, you never actually see yourself die. You always wake up before then. Sima was certainly not going to attempt to murder Maddox, but ah, a punch to face ought to work, right? And Sima was never the type to hold back. He wasn't the type to let him even finish the word "why."
[attr="class","nabody"]A peaceful day at the library. Her particular business today was nothing that important; she was simply looking for a new book to read. Not so much for a hobby, as much as she was looking for a new source to learn from, and from her experience so far, books were the number one resource she could count on, what with the plethora of witches in her coven that outright brushed her existence away. Such is the life of a beginner witch. Alas. Julie browsed through several books until one in particular caught her eye, posing some significant content to what she was looking for. Deciding on that one, she made her steady pace to the counter, passing by a couple of faces on the way; to none of which, she could attribute importance, except for one she had seen twice now. Cassius. Her blue eyes only barely flashed to glance at him; slowly turning back to the path as she continued to walk.
---So why was she suddenly in the museum?
"Nngh!!..." Her's was an unpleasant jolt. Lost balance while afoot, the blond made an awfully ungraceful fall, voice breaking as her body hit the floor; head, forearm, side and thigh taking a solid hit. She stopped moving if for an instant, right as the only one familiar to her reached to supposedly wake her up. For some reason, Cassius sounded stressed out. Was something else going on? --It hit her (figuratively) as she tried to raise herself, supporting herself with her sore hands. Still wincing, trying to suppress the pain.
Pain. This was no dream.
Expression still struggling to pass away the unpleasant sensation, Juliet sat herself down on the floor as she looked to her past companion. "Oh." Her eyes slowly scanned to the other three in the vicinity, coming to fully acknowledge how she had not recognized any of them. Sounds of people going about their way, footsteps and voices. Some even slowed down or even halted, their eyes widening as they looked to the fallen female. She must have drawn their attention with that fall then...
She didn't feel anything odd. Or rather, if only for a split second she had an odd feeling, but such was quickly suppressed by the pain she felt. Staggering some, she shifted in her spot, slowly picking herself up on her feet. Still forcing herself to ignore it. "I was..." She recalled; "...at the library, taking a new book." She stated. --Ah, but it might be too generic a report. So, "...It was 'Moonrise' by N. J. Albert." Juliet specified.
and there sat books upon books stacked upon shelves seemingly endless in the heavenly oasis which held a a calming sort of air -- what with infinitely many adventures woven into leather bound treasure chests with words both old and new, spinning webs and delicate tales of romantic endeavors. it was shining, brilliant, and beautiful. a place which eased her senses as one could get warped into a million different adventures without leaving the confines of your biological world, a masterpiece if one could call it that. and she found herself longing for the kind of life that seemed to happen only in books and stories -- legends really. the kind of life that brought forth a sense of love and existential value that she currently lacked in her present body. but alas, no such thing was possible.
she stood close to a large and intimidating man, someone she could call a friend if she spoke aloud. her fingers itched and twitched the moment she wrapped them around the forearm of her platonic companion. the murmurs of assassination drew forth a slightly ever present wave of pure static, which was rather alarming seeing that there was nothing to fear or be worried about in the situation that they all were in. but there seemed to be something clawing and scratching at the back of her throat as she forced a smile upon her cheeks.
and then she was falling.
she drew in a sharp intake of breath, static ringing strongly within her ears and she couldn't -- god, she couldn't breathe. there was a hard mass on her side which indicated she was leaning on a body that wasn't her own and due to the ever growing feeling of fear that ripped through her like a thousand lightning bolts, she didn't think she was safe.
the scenery was different the moment she forced cerulean hues to dance across the room. the books were gone and she saw only blurred faces despite the aching quiet that burned within her chest. it seemed normal, but had just before been a dream? questions were thrown everywhere in the collapsing state of her mind and she grasped for anything familiar just to find a sense of calm, which happened to be the hand of our dearest cassius.
she squeezed gently as he helped her up, everything a blur as she moved closer to him almost as if hiding behind his form.
everyone from before was here. faces unfamiliar, familiar. static blaring like a fire alarm. one, two, three the beating of her heart, loud and clear like a drum. everyone was the same, wary. confused. and she took it upon herself to remain quiet and just observe the area as she used the familiar touch of a friend to soothe her mind and body to a point where she could genuinely see everything that was hidden in the static.
"i thought it was just me. i thought it was just a dream."
[break]
as sima continues, and more join them, maddox considers this briefly. then, succinctly, with all the distaste of finding a piece of gum at the bottom of one's shoe, says, "fuck dreams."[break][break]
he's still looking around -- looking, but somehow, not seeing -- when sima asks him for assistance ( to which he obliges without question, with a faint, tight but genuine smile ). maddox is all too keen to have his attention pulled somewhere else, though the request is almost as puzzling as the predicament they are in. almost. lips parted to ask a question, eyes questioning if not worried, a simple 'why' is on the tip of his tongue before the fist connects and it is, quite immediately, replaced with an instinctive 'ow.'[break][break]
and, to his dismay, there is no sudden clarity that follows, no shift in surrounding that comes with waking up. instead, he receives a stinging jaw, and even greater confusion. he touches his jaw gingerly, straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster, and ends up huffing a weak laugh. "you could have just, i don't know, pinched me, though that's not really your style." he examines the back of his hands, which do seem very real. "but i guess we can't punch our way out of this one."[break][break]
a crowd has gathered by this point, to which he reports their findings, voice suddenly steadying. "so, uh, punching doesn't work. which means either this is actually all real," pausing to gesture at the museum around them, "or we've all been royally screwed over."
[attr="class","m2icons"]
[attr="class","m2icons2"]
[attr="class","m2hov2"]ONE MAN'S OBSESSION IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRASH
your group completed the win condition of the previous round. no particular deaths have occurred, though injuries may occur/continue to occur at your own discretion. [break][break] the previous win condition was a group effort. the condition was simply ensure all characters interact in some way congratulations, and good luck once again! you'll be needing it :')
[attr="class","stafftemptitle"]
group b round 2
"People fear the unknown, but never seek to conquer it. Such is the pitfall of our society, such must be the basis of our renaissance."
[break] - [Unnamed Council Member] Council of Salem 1778[break][break] this establishment rivals the library of alexandria; grand, luxurious, and filled with opulence only royalty can rival. the giant statues of yanus and marjane stand on each side of the room in front of a large glass window, and the entrance of the museum sits in the center. in their glory, they are nearly tall enough to brush against the ceiling. You find yourself helpless to feel small in such a grand museum, but your sense of awe strikes and sticks at once.[break][break] it's then that you see cracks form against their stoney skin, dust falling in their wake. and with a huge shudder and groan the statues start moving on their own accord. swings of a blade arc across the ceiling and the ground rumbles under such impact. giant pieces of the once illustrious library are falling. The rival witches take their stances- swords and wands and tomes drawn but crumbling under time.[break][break] Huge chunks of the ceiling rain down, marbled pieces fall and crash. People are screaming and running in different directions. As the chaos ensues, more things crash and collide.[break][break] What do you do?
He shook his head, taking another good look at their surroundings. “That’s what I was afraid of. I had the same dream, and the more I look around the less it seems like one…” His eyes turned about, trying to comprehend the situation. It caught him off guard when the one punched the other, but he supposed he understood their situation. It seemed like this was a dream, and for many, the idea of using the promise of pain to wake up was a good one. Unfortunately, it seemed such an easy out wouldn’t be the case here.
He felt the pressure of Ai upon his hand, looking over at the girl who currently stood against him, offering her a weak smile to try and calm her worried breaths. It was quickly replaced however by fear. There was a great rumbling, and the people about them began to scatter. Cassius rose his head in a grimace to see the disturbance, and came face to face with the problem. An eldritch energy seemed to take unnatural hold within the stone statues that stood guard at the entrance of the museum, coming to bear ancient tomes, the stone skin of their forms cracking and sending forth geysers of dirt and dust.
It was the most prominent one that caught his eye, the colossi taking hold of its massive stone blade and bringing it over and down into the stonework of the library, sending chunks of stone and rebar flying across the room. In a quick reaction, he threw his arm and cloak around Ai, jumping and pulling her out of the way of harm, taking the brunt of what stones came flying, and the impact of the fall upon himself. The intensity of their situation fell upon him at once, as he stood staring death in the face.
He didn’t have time to think.
There was no time for reason.
There was only action.
He got up, the sound of his heartbeat filling his head, anger and fear fueling the adrenaline that now coursed like nitrous through his system. He stood up, leaving his cloak around the girl. Placing his hand upon hers, he mustered all of his strength and called upon his memory of using skin-to-bone to give the girl some sort of protection. It was spotty, and like a poor set of armor, but it would have to be enough.
He turned to the colossi, summoning up a little more of his mana to cast the bone upon himself. It did not work as well, however, only a thin shell upon his forearm was all he could muster now. He stared at his hand, clenching it into a fist around a nearby piece of rebar before ripping it up and slinging it one armed across the back of his shoulders.
Even if this would be where he died, he would at least try and buy the others some time.
With a mighty yell, he charged the colossus and began trying to attack it with the rebar.
[attr="class","intext"]Gods damn it all, just what had he done to deserve this sort of bullshit? He'd been halfway to an apology to Maddox when stone shuddered and the ground shook, and such a thing took far precedence over an apology for something he was only half sorry for. If it'd worked, it'd have been great, but it didn't and now they had to deal with this. Something, they have to do something, so he looks inside again but he's greeted with nothing but a hollow silence. The absence of Adina worries him both in and of itself and in how his options are limited by it. Magic still buzzed at his fingertips, but it didn't feel quite right. Still, they're not completely helpless.
Debris fell from the ceiling and they weren't the only ones being pelted with it. It provided a wonderful opportunity and while Sima wasn't too fond of using magic without a scroll, he felt there wasn't much of a choice. They had to either beat these statues down or run. It'd have been nice if he'd had a wand, but he'd have to make due with his hands and so he threw one out and cast expel trigger on the loose pieces lingering still in the cracks running against marble flesh. Ah, if only he'd practiced enchantment more, worked even harder at it, it wouldn't have backfired. He never really did put much thought into how it might feel, the spell expel trigger, when inflicted on a living thing. It felt like electricity pumped through his hand, locking it up entirely for a moment, and then the slightest twitch of a muscle and his hand was just gone. He stared for what felt like an eternity as his mind raced to figure out what happened and how to feel about it. It decided that the feeling ought to be excruciating pain and it lanced up his entire arm as blood poured fourth from the wound. He cried out and doubled over his arm, did his best to stay on his feet.
He really was starting to hate this.
"We can't— We can't fight two statues like this. No proper magic and no weapons." Words fell from his shaking lips erratically once he found his voice again, "We should— We should get out of this area, at least. Find something we can use." He swallowed hard, hand still gripping tight at the stub where his hand was. He struggled with his thoughts, which buzzed in a nearly meaningless mess of bits and pieces half formed and already left for the next. Still he could get his legs to move and that was enough. They needed something to beat these statues with and he doubted that beating them up with pieces of rebar was actually going to do anything against marble. His own attempts at magic clearly hadn't gone well either. "Maddy, I think we should go."
His shaking bloodied hand slipped on the handle of the door, but eventually he found a grip and the door swung open and he stumbled through. He quickly reapplied pressure to the stump where his hand was.
[attr="class","m2content"]he tries to ignore the sting -- dream or not, whatever state they are in does little to lessen any pain. his gaze drifts instead upwards, to the sunlight streaming in, then the two monoliths that threaten to break through the ceiling. part of an apology is registered before he realises something is wrong: fault lines blossom against stone, a microcosmic earthquake. his breath catches in his throat, and, unbidden, he takes a step backwards. the world shrinks, his eyes an aperature only open to the statues as they groan, dragging feet from their perches, stone joints screaming. the stone blade arcs -- up, gracefully, and then terrifyingly, down.[break][break]
( the ground explodes, the world goes wild. he can imagine moosely sighing. )[break][break]
someone reaches for their spells; sima, beside him, is quick to raise a finger towards the statues. for a brief moment, time freezes -- he's practiced enough with sima to know when the spell feels wrong, the mana twisted. a split second too late; fingers extended desperately to call for a stop, but just like that it's gone and he's--[break][break]
grabbing sima by the elbow and making a run for it. maddox nods, once, stiffly, and turns to anyone still frozen. "run." in almost a snarl, voice gaining an ugly edge as they make a break for the door, maddox lunges sideways to grab at the man who had charged forward with a make-shift weapon of rebar. "leave them, get to the door, come on." a piece of rebar lies haphazardly in his way; this he heaves upwards and launches it at the colossus. he doesn't linger long enough to see it land, breaking away as it arcs through the air. he hears it clatter behind him, but by then, he's already moved on.[break][break]
he shoves his shoulder against the door, follows sima through, eyes searching desperately for anything that might help them.
[attr="class","m2icons"]
[attr="class","m2icons2"]
[attr="class","m2hov2"]ONE MAN'S OBSESSION IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRASH
although the smile seemed awkward and not as warm, it still sent a wave of calm over her being. it was enough so that she was allowed to breathe -- static was background noise now and the shaking had somewhat stopped. but the slight comfort that came with that was shortly lived as the world flipped upside down yet again. everything was a complete blur, screams filled her ears and she tried to cling to cassius for a moment longer. but the warmth was inevitably ripped from her grasp as she was merely left behind while he went off to do something of dangerous stupor.
there was no time to think.
fumbling with the cloak she had been gifted, her small legs hurried to find a way to escape and dodge the incoming debri that came with the statues. they were large colossus, her mind numb as she tried to wrap about anything and everything that could give her even an inkling of an idea as to why this was happening. it didn't even matter that she was pretty much lost without a voice and her familiar.
but she didn't dare attack something that so obviously could kill her without a moment's notice. she was small, she knew her weaknesses and this time all she wanted to do was feel a sliver of safety. while she worried for her friend's safety, she knew she couldn't do anything at all to help and the thought alone made her sick.
still, she made a mad dash to the door, the cloak doing wonders to swallow up her petite frame. desperately, she pushed herself to catch up with the darker one and the one that seemed a bit scary. the two that were doing punching earlier and huddled near them as they made it through the door. hoping this was the right decision.
[attr="class","nabody"]Little time was granted as her eyes scanned the surrounding people further. Watching their reactions. First, Cassius, whom she was familiar with. Then the lady he helped, only shortly taking in her features. And then the two m-- Oh. One punched the other. Honestly, she didn't find that pleasant, at all. Slightly shaky as her body instinctively leaned away from this dangerous guy. She already came to label him like that, as she herself didn't want to get punched.
And then, rumble.
This heavy of a shake would cause even her to be surprised. Turning around, eyes widely open, she saw it. The two, gigantic statues moving on their own, destroying the ceiling with their huge weapons. Just taking in the situation was a taxing task, as Julie's thoughts began to run wildly in her head, barely responsive. The screams and panic from the crowding that was formed only made it worse, clouding her mind with information she didn't want to receive; but somehow, just happened to.
As chunks of rock fell down, she found herself paralyzed in place. Unable to move. This is a life-threatening situation, isn't it? We could all die. I have to... Do, s-- The idea of magic came to mind. Yes, she could use it. That one scroll...What was it? Weird. Her mind drew a blank on one scroll she thoroughly memorized. In the first place, with her experience, could she even stand a chance against this big of a threat? She had an advantage in being an earth-elemental but--
Jumbled through, her eyes only drifted to the small party she was placed into, staring intensely at one point. Blood.
This man's hand was gone, the appendage gushing out blood. Was this what was going to happen... If they tried to use magic...? I can't do it. She mustn't use it just like that. Or else-- This. Her entire body shaking, Julie's body flinched awake at the snarl shot her way. And blindly, she ran after the four, if at her own pace; still unable to perceive what had just happened. Rushing to the door, almost like her body moved on its own through the shock her mind was under. She failed to even form a single word.
Death was drawing near. Staying out of harm's way, was the safest bet.
He felt his arm get yanked back as he charged forward. Stopping and turning, it was the face of one of the other people he was just with, the word "run" escaping his lips. Immediately, the many muted sirens that had been going off in Cassius' head came to the foreground of his thoughts, telling him how stupid his idea had just been. He turned briefly to look at the colossi and the witches now attempting to fight it.
His teeth ground against each other, his grip tightening on the rough metal which cut into his skin. He knew he stood no chance in his current state. Begrudgingly, yet without hesitation, he turned, booking it to Ai to help her to the door, before running through with the rest of his team. As he passed through the doorway, he flipped off the statue, one final move of defiance towards it on his part.
your group completed the win condition of the previous round. no particular deaths have occurred, though injuries may occur/continue to occur at your own discretion. [break][break] the previous win condition was individual in nature. the condition was simply escape the building congratulations, and good luck once again! you'll be needing it :')
[attr="class","stafftemptitle"]
group b round 3
"As of current, three villages have turned into ghost towns overnight. Entire tribes have been uprooted. The government must act, lest they admit to their cowardice."
[break] - [Unnamed Council Member] Council of Salem 1780[break][break] The group (or what’s left of it) makes it out the door. The museum behind them seems to deteriorate by the second- a sense of helplessness rises as they for a brief minute forget about the instance at the library. They forget entirely the kind of nightmare they are in for a few seconds and are absorbed in that sorrow or that shock or that sheer adrenaline rush.[break][break] And then they wake up.[break][break] Lazily as the harsh summer sun beats down on them from above. The sky is bluer than the sea and the coulds stretch on for miles and miles. And there is dirt and sand all about them.[break][break] And then, in one mass, the fanatic screaming of a hundred thousand spectators.[break][break] When they wake up they will realize that they are in a gladiator’s ring -albiet in the same clothes they were in before, carrying nothing spectacular to suit this dream’s tastes). And a small metal contraption is rising up. It unloads itself- and a gigantic tiger springs from the cage- body armored and eyes red.[break][break] There is no time to think. [break][break] The tiger attacks. [break][break]
