Into The Flames
Replies
Phoenix rise and flutter wings Crackle, tear, and burn it sings.
To singe, to torch, or so it aims Falling further into flames.
Spreading a destructive light To this, to all, it will ignite.
In the year 3121, the world was very different. For many years, technology became greater and greater, yet crime and corruption thrived undetectably beneath all of it as it never had before. The world, it seemed, was falling to pieces; however, everything became worse than anyone had ever imagined when the governments fell to the control of Monte de la Tour.
No one knew how it happened. It just did. De la Tour had the political leaders of every nation under his command. New laws were distributed and upheld. No one may do anything against the government, whether it was in words or in actions. No one may publish or read books that discuss topics the government does not approve of. Government runs all markets, trades, and enterprises. The government chose what topics the children in schools could learn, and there were many, many more laws. Anyone who acted in disagreement with the law would be put to death. Death by the N.I.E, or the cins, short for incinerators, would be arranged.
The N.I.E. stands for National Incineration Enforcement. Trained for years, the men and women in this organization could set anything to fire. The law gave them right to kill anyone with the slightest suspicion of treason. Not only that, they could legally set fire to a whole city. The N.I.E could burn whatever they pleased whether there was a reason or not. The government protected them and encouraged them.
As it was, all the hopes of a better world disappeared in ashes and pillars of swirling smoke.
Rules -Not everyone should be in the N.I.E. If so, there would be no plot. -Please try to keep the gender balance even. -I like violence and romance. Both are fine with me. -You don't have to ask to join. -List or paragraph intros are fine. I'm going to do a list simply because it is easier to keep track of characters that way.
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Name: Kol Jasper
Gender:Male
Age: 19
Occupation: N.I.E. Agent (Cin)
Appearance: Kol (pronounced like Cole, by the way) could be described to look as dark as the acts he commits. His hair is charcoal black, his eyes are steel gray and hard, and a sarcastic smirk is the character of his visage. His face has sharp, angular features, and his cheeks are often smudged with ashes. Kol is lean and muscular -- the body of a hunter.
Personality: Kol's father, and his father before him, had all been cins. It was the only life Kol ever knew. Burning. Destroying. The insane feeling of power and terrible beauty. Genetically, Kol has a hard, cruel heart with no conscience. His mind was warped from when he was a child to be masochistic and power-loving. He finds pleasure in the pain of others. Be all this as it may, he sometimes feels as though there is a cloud around him, a cloud which he cannot break through. There is something inside of him that is different. There is something inside him that does not exist in the other cins. But Burning has been his life, so he never thought of it as something wrong or evil. His mind instinctively does not think or consider his actions. But the cloud remains around him. Although he may wish to break through, it is probably too late. His heart is iron, destructive, and set in its ways.
ooc: Interesting. How many characters are we allowed to control?
Name: Dominique Parsons
Alias: Annette Poirault
Occupation: Author against the new government.
Behavior: Dominique has a creative and political mind. She is quite stern, but when she speaks she choses to do so with 'flowery' words to emphasize her already strong point. She tends to talk a lot as well, when she isn't talking she writes in a pocket book that she carries around with her at all times. She always have something to say about everything, always expressing her thoughts publicly; of course this has gotten her in a lot of trouble with the government. She doesn't enjoy backing down, even when she is proven wrong, she refuses to state that she is. She has a high IQ, and this probably adds to her being the stubborn stallion she is. Dominique also enjoys to play, tricking or annoying people to the edge before she exposes what she really means.
History: Born and raised in Paris, France; Dominique comes from a well educated and cultured family. Her father being a politician, and her mother being a writer. Once the Monte de la Tour took over the whole world, her parents were one of the first in France to be engulfed by the flames. However, her parents' deaths did not steer her off of her path, but instead motivated her to excel faster. She graduated from Oxford, studying journalism, and wrote books against the government, published by an underground company, and signed under her alias, Annette Poirault. Dominique moved to America when she heard of a revolution, started by Jaque "Jackie" Cheval De'Marseille a man she had met numerous times when she had lived in France. Being one against the government, she did not hesitate to catch up with him and help him with the revolution.
Pets: She can barely take care of herself, who says she can take care of an extra mouth. :)
((So glad you all joined! You may have as many characters as you can keep track of, Mutiara.))
There was little in the entire world that Kol loved more than burning. The flames consumed everything; they could turn anything, no matter how noble or strong, into withered ashes. It was like watching the indestructible be destroyed, and it could make a man feel powerful. He was, after all, setting nature against itself, holding in his hands a tiny lighter that, when summoned to do so, could bring the world to its knees. And so it had.
Kol watched the twisted smoke turrets rise from the once magnificent mansion. The fire leaped and growled like a pride of lions fighting to escape, fighting to find air. A distorted smile crawled across his lips. I did this. he thought. A blood-curdling scream preceded a crashing of singed wood and embers. He chuckled under his breath, his eyes bright with the flickering fire as it devoured the house and its occupants. That was the best thing about fire. It was always hungry, no matter how many lives it digested.
Turning his back on the calamitous, beautiful scene, he walked away a few steps and lit a cigarette. The city around lay in darkness, and although he couldn't see them, he knew that many people crowded the windows behind the curtains and blinds, wondering, and watching.
A few of the other cins a few yards away were talking in low voices. Kol heard little but the words Annette Poirault . Aw, so that had been the cause. Another of the treacherous books by the infamous Annette Poirault had been found in the mansion. For that, they had deserved to die. He shook his head. These people brought their doom upon their own selves. If they would just obey the government, they would not have to live in fear.
Even he, however, knew that this wasn't the truth. What if everyone did obey? The cins would get bored of having nothing to burn and either make up new, impossible to obey, laws or just falsely accuse innocent people. He himself would probably join them. His job was to burn things, to burn everything.
OOC: Can I join?
Name: Estelle Frieza
Nicknames: Stella, Ella, Elle
Gender:Female
Age: 17
Occupation: Student
Appearance: [URL=http://media.photobucket.com/image/anime school girl/Kyoko081093/Possible Rp Characters/941834jjijjw3qwt.jpg?o=25][IMG]http://i138.photobucket.com/albums/q257/Kyoko081093/Possible%20Rp%20Characters/th_941834jjijjw3qwt.jpg[/IMG][/URL]
Personality: Estelle is a very calm and quiet person. She lives alone in a small condo and never has guests over. She although she acts this way, she really is a tough person. She doesnt really care about anyone especially cins.
ooc: Is it alright if my character was part of the resistance as well? Added it in my history. :) And I'll introduce my new character, I hope you don't mind but I didn't have time to make a skellie, but I'll be sure to make a note of everything in his intro.
BIC:
Dominique watched as the building was engulfed with flames; the fire was self nourishing, feeding itself with wood until it swallowed all, then swallowed itself. Everyone around her took no notice of the building, no notice of a fire; this occasion repeated itself too many times that it became part of the daily life, such as dinner time or brushing your teeth. People had to walk by, if they had stopped to help or stopped to watch, they would be questioned by the government. And of course, nobody had the guts to do that. How it sickened her.
Her fingers slipped into the inside pocket of her black fur coat, fumbling around for her small pocket book. Finally grasping the worn out edges, she walked towards an old coffee cafe. The sounds of laughter and constant chatter filled the air, no one seemed distraught nor aware of the consuming fire that was just opposite them; it's glowing light and the smell of smoke was present in this place. Yet no one seemed to care.
Dominique forced a small smile on her face as the waitress dressed in black greeted her. "Uh, oui. Table for one." She followed the waitress to the far corner of the cafe, admiring the peeling wall paper, and coffee stained pillows. Yet the scent of the toxic smoke still caused her nostrils to burn and her to grimace. She seated herself upon the wooden chair, "One black coffee please." her voice soft a light french accent ringing as she ordered.
She pulled out a pen and opened up the notebook, flicking through the smudged pages and soaked pages of her book until finally stopping at a nicely lined white page. The scent of gasoline was one that I used to love as a child. I would ask my parents if they needed to refuel their cars each time we came by a gas station, just to purposely smell the fumes of oil and gasoline fill the air and the car. But now, I smell it everywhere. One does not need to go and get their tanks refilled to smell the toxic fumes; they can find it consuming their neighbor's homes, engulfing their office, or even licking at the bodies of dead children at an elementary school. Thanks to the Monte de la Tour; one of my favourite scents had found their way into my everyday life. Its no longer a surprise to pass by a burning building and not find firemen fending off the vicious flames. It is no longer a fear to hear the screams or cries of people burning, dying as the flames devour them. No. These things are now normal in the society we live in. However, it still sickens me. Sometimes I wish that I could come across a person, screaming for someone to aid them as a nearby house burns; and actually see people running towards the fire to put it out.
Dominique reread her piece, her eyes empty as well as her soul. The ink was still wet, and she ran the side of her fist upon it, watching as her words turned into a large smudge. They'll never find Annette Poirault; they'll never stop her writing.
ooc: Dominique smudges her words after she writes them, that way the N.I.E cannot find her hardcopies, and cannot find who Annette Poirault is. However, once she writes she has an ability to remember what she writes from every phrase. Perhaps not exactly, but roundabout. :)
ooc: Thank you Fonger, I was inspired by your long intro. :) Okay, now for my new character :) She's part of the N.I.E! Crappy intro I must say :(
BIC:
Kylie Satiana watched as Kol came towards her and the other agents. The fire behind him still burnt lavishly as it spat into the dark air above; there was nothing more beautiful than the glowing embers that danced, surrounded by the hazy hot air that flowed around them. A smile crept across her lips as she thought of the justice that they had served, the lady would think again before she messed with the government; that is, if she survived.
Kylie, being only eighteen years old; one would think that she was fairly new to the N.I.E. They were wrong; she had never finished school. The fires she had started before the Monte de la Tour seized control of the government were gruesome. She wasn't afraid of pouring gasoline across the grounds or splashing it upon skin, the pulling a lit match allowing it to fall, and ignite. This kind of behavior had her expelled, but she was adopted into the Monte de la Tour for burning the victims they intended on burning themselves. She was only fifteen.
She grabbed a lock of her red hair and twirled it between her fingers, watching as Kol approached them. "I must say Kol, another beautiful fire." She praised him, biting her bottom lip as she did so. "If I hadn't had known you myself, I would have guessed you could cause a spark by a simple click of your fingers." Her fingers slid into her fiery hair as she pulled out a slim cigarette behind her ear, placing it in between her full lips. "Mind using some of your magic to light my fag?"
]]can I slip in? from what i read most of the posts are skellies, but i'm wondering if it's started[[
((Annoyed, you can probably get in really quick. Sounds great, Fonger))
Staring off into the curls of smoke, he encountered curls of a different kind. Curls that were red as fire but of an entirely different texture. He was looking at Kylie Satiana, a long time friend of his from the N.I.E. She was altogether very similar to what he loved most in the world, fire. Her hair, as stated above, was vibrant as the shimmering flames, but her eyes were dark like the ruins of the pyre, doused but still hot with the glowing coals beneath the ashes.
Kol listened to her words, breathing them in. Softly, he sighed, "But all fires are beautiful." He watched as she pulled a cigarette from behind her ear. To her request, he replied with a smirk, "With pleasure," and flicked his lighter at the butt of her cigarette. Though the flare was small, only a centimeter or two high, it cast a slight glow over Kylie's face, lighting up her lips and cheekbones. That's a nice effect he thought with the smallest laugh under his breath.
Snapping the lighter shut, he closed it back into his fist. It was a powerful weapon, for it needed scarcely any lighter fluid at all to function. A new and improved version, it could light hundreds of fires weekly, and it weighed no more than a spool of thread despite being made of a metal alloy.
"How've you been? It's been a while," he said to the young woman before him. It had, indeed, been about five months since he had last seen her. The N.I.E. generals like to break the cins off into various groups for different missions, so it was fortunate when he was in the same group of someone that he knew.
]] actually I don't think i'll be able to join... sorry, good luck with it though[[
ooc: Woah fonger, you're font is quite hard to read. :P Sorry for the delay, also won't be able to post until I get back from camp, which is about two days?
BIC:
Dominique walked out of her car after parking it at a nearby fast food restaurant. The neighborhood she found herself in was known for its criminal reputation, and abandoned houses, but nonetheless she walked swiftly and confidently through the dirty alleyways and past groups of dirty mouthed men. Her heels pattered against the rough cement, occasionally stepping on a puddle, the water spitting onto her legs. If one were to find a lady such as Dominique walking through this neighborhood, of course they were to be curious; but no one dared to bother her with useless questions.
After what seemed like thirty minutes in a labyrinth, a smile became present on her thin lips. The smoke that hazed through the air created a dizzy atmosphere for her, yet she was still able to see through the gray air. She waved her gloved hand through it, causing the visibility to improve for a mere moment, only to return to the spot she had just cleared. In front of her stood a crumbling chinese restaurant, the neon lights blinked, while some letters were simply just lines; nobody walked into a restaurant such as this, if they were they would find themselves in a completely different location.
She pushed on the door, hearing the door creak as it slid across the floor, and the bell ring furiously up above her. The restaurant was empty of course, the tables were beaten and broken down, and she was sure that rats the size of small dogs inhabited the kitchens. Dominique walked towards the staff room, the door creaking once again. She soon found herself in a dark room with a staircase leading to the basement, which of course she made her way down.
The basement was merely a sewage, the smell of decay filled the air yet she made her way through it swiftly, pinching her nose as she tried to avoid the stench. She finally found the brown door that was the entrance of their little revolution, and she pulled out a brass key, fitting it into the door and hearing the two clicks, and pushing on the door. Dominique was alone in the warehouse, but she would wait for the others to join her.
Kylie exhaled, allowing the grey smoke to fill the air between her and Kol; It didn't take long for the visibility to clear, and she could see Kol's face once again. The cigarette twirled in between her finger and her thumb, and she raised her eyes up to Kol's, admiring his features; his hair was charcoal black, and reminded her of the starting of a flame, and instantly plastered a smile onto her face.
"It has been a while." She started, her voice much more huskier with the smoke in her lungs. "I believe the last time we worked together was when we had to burn down that hotel filled with officials against the Monte de la Tour. Remember that fire, I believe that was the best work we've ever made." It surely was, and obviously the N.I.E believed so too, that's why they were separated, to teach fellow N.I.Es to ignite and kill.
"Since then I've been okay. A couple of twats to deal with, but just give them a burn and they learn from their mistakes." A smirk lit up her face and one could see the evil humor that burnt in her eyes. "What about you Kol? Any flames that don't relate to N.I.E work, if you know what I mean."
((Sorry about the wait. Have been WAY busy))
Kol silently remembered the burning hotel Kylie described. It had been a beautiful fire, and the destruction had been even more beautiful. There was no pity in his heart for all who had died that night. Damn rebels. he thought. Think they are invincible. They think they can do whatever they please. That nothing can touch them. They deserve to die. Each and every one of them.
He quietly laughed, menace coloring his tone. "There are always people who don't think they have to respect the N.I.E. Sarcasm isn't really a crime, but it sure as hell is annoying. They, of course, have to be taught a lesson." Saying this, he was thinking of a time not two weeks ago.... Luck had not been with that teenage couple. Oh well. Kol smiled, remembering.
The girl, freckle faced and appearing to be about sixteen with a look of horror contorting her already plain features. The boy, perhaps a year or so older than she, had tried very hard not to scream. Oh yes, he had tried very hard. Had he been trying to be a hero? A martyr? Pathetic.
"Come on," he said, his hand on her arm. "There's a bar that the N.I.E. took over that's not too far. I'll buy you a drink." It had actually once been a restaurant, but it was a nice place, so the N.I.E. had simply accused the owner of providing service to rebels and took the place for their own.