The Banished

Ego · 2008-02-28T07:37:52Z

They are safe, inside their sanctuary of silver and steel. They go about their lives as though nothing has happened—behind the glass, automobiles of aluminum and plastic rumble along paved streets while they themselves trudge along the sides of the road, as they do every day, to get to their destinations. Their sharp, grey suits are crisp and pressed, their attache cases clutched in clenched fingers as though their immortal souls were contained within. They march on, like insects within their colony, delusions of individuality and freedom trapped, held prisoner, in their minds. Never have they questioned these ideas, for they’ve had no reason to. The truth has been hidden from them for so long, it’s been forgotten. The truth would destroy them. Will destroy them. For we are the truth. They call themselves the race of humanity. There is nothing humane about their existence. They wage war on one another; for oil, for their gods, for the shiny rocks that grow from the ground. For what? For nothing. They are slaves to that which they own; their televisions and computer screens govern where they are at any given time, while their cellular phones and their internet trap them in a web that has all but destroyed the intricate weave of magic that once covered their Earth. Their ancestors, wielding true power, completely unlike anything they currently know, were the same as they are now—but infinitely different. We had once lived peacefully, side by side. They were little more than barbarians when we first found them, but they showed great potential. For centuries, millenia even, we benefitted from one another’s presence. They provided us protection, for they were the physically stronger of the two, and we provided them knowledge—knowledge of mechanics, of science, of magic. They learned quickly--surpassed our wildest expectations. The guard dog became the conqueror, then. Their betrayal came on swift winds. Using our own mystical talents, they sealed us here, in this negative plane, this vast wasteland where no grass grows, no flowers bloom, no hearts beat. Timeless. Our bodies have remained unchanged for what has been an eternity. We have retained our mysticism, albeit unable to use it in this place. Our memories are unchanged. We remember Man’s betrayal as if they sealed the gate mere moments before. Man has become soft. They rely on their computers, their automobiles, and their guns to solve their problems. They are physically unable to live without their technology. They now have no defense. Their guards, who they trapped here, with us, lay dead at my feet. Their world, for the world we once inhabited with them is And now, the gate stands open, and we watch them as they go about their lives, only a thin sheet of glass standing in our way. They are oblivious to the army, standing among the corpses of their fallen brethren, awaiting the moment that they will reclaim their throne. Our time has come. --Anonymous Banished One The Premise: The Banished are a race of magic wielding beings who were sent to the Negative Plane by the humans they sought to educate in the ways of the universe. As centuries passed, humanity forgot what magic was, relying on technology to perform their daily activities. A small, secretive group of humans continued to practice magic should the Banished return. And return they have, in force. For the past three weeks, random acts of violence are occurring on the streets of the city--cars fall from the sky to explode on the street, killing sprees have become commonplace. The Setting: Modern day Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Plot: Our protagonists are thrown into a dangerous situation in the midst of a crisis. They must find out the origin and put a stop to it. More as it unfolds. The Characters: As a writer in this storybook, you may make only human characters, who fall into two categories. The first category is Watcher : These humans are trained in the Arcane Arts in order to defend the world of man from the Banished, should they ever escape. Typically, the secrets of the Banished and the Gate are passed on from generation to generation, but as time has passed, and as technology encompasses more and more of the world, the secret has been passed to others outside the bloodline. The secrets themselves are still jealously guarded, but it is not uncommon for humans with no blood ties to the original Watchers to learn the art. Women are more often Watchers than men, though exact reasons are unknown. Each Watcher manifests his or her magic differently, some working through mediums such as scrolls or chants, others merely concentrating on what they need to do. See the sample character profile for more information. IMPORTANT NOTE: Manifestations are *not* mutant powers, like in XMen. Think of a manifestation as how one controls or channels her magic. Tiernan, profiled below, uses blood to manipulate the magical energies in his body. Further examples include Chanting, Material Components, Art, Dance, Song, and so forth. Everyone who has written a manifestation needs to send me a PM describing how their character would cast a spell. We'll work from there in finding a way to make your manifestation work. The second category is just your Average Joe . These characters are normal humans, with no formal training in the arts. They may be talented in the Arcane, or they may just be regular people trying to make their way. Either way, as the world descends into chaos, they are sucked into it. Be imaginative with your characters here. Rules: These are important. 1)No team-killing: If an active character is going to die, make sure it is thoroughly discussed between both parties involved. 2)On Writing Style: This is a Storybook RPG, so players may write in any style they please. First person, third person omniscient, it's all dependent on your personal preference. 3)On God-Moding: God Moding is vague. Here are the rules for it. -- Other authors may control another author's character as long as it keeps the character IN CHARACTER. For extra help, communicate with the author of the character being god-moded first. -- Authors have every right to determine what is in or out of character for their character. As such, any action they feel is wrong for the character can be vetoed within a few days of the post. -- This isn't a turn-based RPG, it is a real-time RPG. That means that you aren't obligated to stop and wait for the author to reply to your character. This way, we don't wait three days for a response. 4) Out of character discussion is to be carried out in the Discussion Thread for this Storybook. 5) I reserve the right to edit any post to modify content as needed in order to retain the continuity of characters and plot. Sample Watcher: Full Name: Robert Tiernan Dolsser Gender: Male Age: 24 Birthplace: NYC, New York Occupation: Watcher --Job: Librarian Eyes: Brown Hair: long black Height: 6' Weight: 140 lbs. Social Class: Lower Middle Appearance: Your typical "Goth" kid. Black clothes, black leather accessories, and chains out the yang. His body is covered in scars, both minuscule and monstrous--an after-effect of the medium through which he manifests his magic. He frequently wears dramatic eyeliner and henna tattoos. Clothing: --Baggy black cargo pants with dangling straps --Tight black T-Shirt --Spiked leather bracers --Watcher's Pendant --Heavy leather boots Manifestation: Blood. Tiernan Manifests his magic by means of letting his own blood and infusing magical energy into it. The effect of the spell depends on the location and depth of the cut. Tiernan's magical focus is on offensive spells, either enhancing his physical capabilities or by missile projections in the form of fireballs and arcane bolts. Brief History: Tiernan was raised by his grandfather to be a Watcher. He showed strong promise at a very early age, during a rough, violent school life in elementary school. He got in frequent fights with the other kids, even going as far as to fight two sixth graders at once in his second year. The older boys were tossing his lunchbox back and forth, when he decided enough was enough. He tackled one of the boys, but was immediately thrown off. He clipped his knuckles on a jagged fence, tearing them open. From that second, the tide turned--Tiernan fought viciously, and he had to be pulled off the half-conscious boys by the time the teachers got to them. Thus began a series of suspensions and expulsions. Byu the time he reached high school he has been transferred to five different districts. His parents sent him to his grandfather for lessons in discipline. His grandfather gave him these in the form of learning the ways of the Watcher. IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm going to implement a new idea I had recently into this storybook, due to the sheer number of Watchers we have. I would like everyone to have a manifestation listed in their profile, regardless of whether they are a Watcher or not. However, do not include in your profile whether or not your character is in fact a Watcher. That will be my decision. Watchers are a highly secretive group--it's only logical that very few people would know of their existence. Hell...maybe the Watchers themselves don't know each other. So here's what I'd like to do. Everyone that's aboard for the storybook PM me with your preference for Watcher Status--either a Make me a Watcher or a Don't make me a Watcher--and I'll be choosing for you. If it really isn't working, we'll go ahead and go back to this way, but I'd like to try this. Carry on.

Rubric

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Thu Mar 06, 2008 6:18 am

Rubric says... · Thu Mar 06, 2008 6:18 am

8:36

The leather manacles fell away, vines withering in a winter chill.
No sooner had that happened than James realised his mistake. A tiny circlet of wire had been threaded through the manacle, and as they were undone, the circuit broke and an alarm sounded.

He ran for the door only to find it locked. There were charms to pick it or break it down, but they were convoluted and he didn't want to leave evidence of his passing behind.

Taking two long-legged steps for the chair that sat alongside the bed, James picked it up and flung it against the giant mirror. It shattered, showing the empty viewing room on the other side of the glass. He snagged his leg on a shard that had stuck in the frame as he clambered through, but ignored the pain.

there were shouts from the other side of his room's door, and as James dressed himself quickly in the lab-coat and sunglasses of some doctor, the rustling of keys. He thanked his lucky stars that someone had left their gear, as without it he would have had to resort to...drastic measures.

None of the baton-armed orderlies noticed James slip out of the viewing room, passing them by on his way to the security checkpoint.

The orderlies finally gained access to his room, only to find him gone, the room smashed, and the viewing room empty. A general alarm was sounded.

Last edited by Rubric on Sat Mar 08, 2008 4:24 am, edited 1 time in total.

So you're going to kill a god. Sure. But what happens next?

Diary of a Deicide, Part One.

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Via

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Thu Mar 06, 2008 6:34 am

Via says... · Thu Mar 06, 2008 6:34 am

Day 1. 8:37am. Jillien.

The shot rang in Jillien's ear like a clock chime; never ending. She had dropped the article in the chaos, as well as herself to the floor. Though, it was much slower for her than she had expected. She more of eased to the floor.

As she was waiting for her tea, she had been standing relatively close to the counter. She watched the cashier go down and quickely turned to the gunman, who was looking at the counter and not at her. Jillien didn't waste much time studying the gunman, not noticing that she knew him even. She quickly slid behind the side counter and over to the cashier.

She woman was staring at her, but not saying anything--Jillien held a finger to her lips to signify to the woman to be quiet anyway. Her eyes pleaded for help, but Jillien didn't really know what to do. Tears fell from the woman's hazel eyes. Jillien glanced up to the shelves beneath the cash register. One shelf of register paper, one shelf of miscellaneous gift cards, promotions, order pads. On the third shelf there was a bottle of windex and a roll of paper towels.

Jillien grabbed the towels and pressed them onto the woman's wound; the woman moaned slightly. Jillien shook her head and looked to her with pity. She knew it would not help. It would only be a few minutes before the poor girl was dead.

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Billy

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Thu Mar 06, 2008 11:03 am

Billy says... · Thu Mar 06, 2008 11:03 am

Day 1. 8:35. Josh

Josh listened carefully, making his way toward the sound of the guitar and tapping out the song's beat on his sax case. He found himself standing in front of a young woman a moment later, if he could call a woman a few years older than him 'young'.

She was good, she'd obviously made music her life. He began making his way over to her, giving her a quick look over as he did. Grey eyes, brown hair. A pretty woman, but not in ways most people would notice.

She flashed him a quick smile as she came to the end of her song, at which point he dropped a couple of coins into her case, also smiling, "Not bad."

"Thanks."

"Wanna grab a coffee?" He asked, grinning just a little. As much as he appeared relaxed, he was pretty nervous. First impressions were everything.

And then, only a moment before she could respond, a loud shot rang out from one of the coffee shops nearby.

He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt. - Yossarian, Catch-22

Wide-eyed stupid.

If you're gonna rule the world, you've gotta get up early! - Joel S. Dickens

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busboys and poets

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Thu Mar 06, 2008 7:15 pm

busboys and poets says... · Thu Mar 06, 2008 7:15 pm

Day 1, 8:35 AM. Prosper.

Prosper gave the boy in front of her a crooked grin--though she supposed she couldn't really call him a boy. He was quite a bit taller than her and well-built, but there was a certain anxiety about him that attracted her, made her long to feel him throw an arm around her shoulders and start cracking off-color jokes. He was carrying a saxophone case, she noted. It was always nice to get compliments from fellow musicians.

"Wanna grab a coffee?" he grinned at her.

Prosper raised her eyebrows, letting Ariel hang on her strap for the moment. It wasn't rare for her to get propositions, but most of them were from older businessmen--Johns, as she called them--who assumed that a reasonably attractive girl on a street corner would put out for thirty bucks. As if Prosper would charge. Occasionally she went home with the younger ones, the nervous ones, the shy ones--she liked them. The Students. She was staying with one of them right now, a freshman at Temple University named, ironically, Jack.

Still, there was something about the guy in front of her that came across as even more genuine than her easily-besotted lovers. For a few seconds she contemplated, then opened her mouth to agree, when she heard the sound of a gunshot. The glass windows between her and the cafe did little to muffle the sound, and she yelped and grabbed a handful of the Student's shirt, pulling him over to where the brick facade protected them.

"What the hell was that?" she murmured, glancing towards the cafe and then up to meet his green eyes.

I decline to accept the end of man.

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TNCowgirl

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Fri Mar 07, 2008 2:06 pm

TNCowgirl says... · Fri Mar 07, 2008 2:06 pm

Day 1, 8:37 AM. Caralena.

Cara's mind was buzzing when she saw the gun. There wasn't enough time to jump up and stop the guy though. She kicked the table up for a sheild if she needed it as several people ran out of the coffee shop screaming, but only the ones that were by the door got out. The others just stood stalk still. She growled inwardly, they were all stupid, stupid people. She looked around where she was for something to use as a weapon. She heard a moan from behind the counter, quiet, but her ears picked it up. The cashier was alive. She chewed her lip and grabbed hold of the leg of the table breaking it off as quiet as possible.

If she could just get behind the shooter and hit him over the head she would be able to tie him up and then help the cashier.

***Sorry so short***

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Moony

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Fri Mar 07, 2008 6:58 pm

Moony says... · Fri Mar 07, 2008 6:58 pm

this was interesting but very confusing

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Stephixy

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Sat Mar 08, 2008 3:55 am

Stephixy says... · Sat Mar 08, 2008 3:55 am

Day 1, 8:34 a.m. - Lamiaferox

Lamia steps to her immediate right when she enters the Starbucks, and leans against the small space of wall next to the door. She glances behind her shoulder and watches the man she stole the wallet from walk away. Grinning to herself, she flips the wallet open and begins to examine it's contents.

"Brian O'Henry?" she snickers lightly. "I stole from an Irishman, I wonder if that null and voids my chance at a pot of gold." she wonders aloud in a soft voice. She hears the annoying bell attached to the door to the coffee shop jingle. She looks up to see a guy a little shorter than her with longer black hair walk in. The first thing she notices are his skater shoes, which she immediately covets.

"Those would be nice..." she whispers unconsciously. She then contemplated all the wonderful things such shoes would allow her to do, while glaring at her own ratty sorry excuses for shoes, the only thing she had trouble stealing. Just as her mind had reached running along the walk at central park on a hot day without falling out of her shoes and burning her feet, she heard gasps. She looked up just in time to see the guy with the skater shoes shot the girl behind the counter.

"Holy Heaven!" she said loudly as she quickly flipped behind the corner she was practically leaning on. People ran out the doors, but all she could do was stand frozen with the wall half covering her. She wasn't sure what kept her their. She was scared out of her mind, and the only thing she really wanted to do was disappear.

She with an arm behind her back, she twisted a strand of her waist long golden hair. Somehow doing that kept her grounded in the present while she watched the situation. What she didn't see, because she was too busy watching the situation, was that her body became fainter in appearances, as if she were fading slightly. She faded in and out slowly as she twisted her hair again and again...

We keep waiting on the World to stop but it won't slow down and we'll never catch up... - Grey Holiday

We're making Fiction of our lives, Burning pages as we write... - Kids In the Way

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Ego

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Sat Mar 08, 2008 4:44 am

Ego says... · Sat Mar 08, 2008 4:44 am

Day 1. 8:38am. Tiernan.

Gun! Oracle's silent cry jarred Tiernan from his thoughts, and he scanned the room instantly.

The second Tiernan saw the gun, admittedly too late to save the cashier, he sprang into motion. He couldn't risk exposure by casting a spell, so he leaped from his chair nimbly dodging the tables in front of him and crossing the room in the blink of an eye. He saw the other man, a lean, hard looking bastard, making a move and locked gazes with him for just an instant.

The gun went off, and the cashier fell to the ground. Tiernan saw the gunman turn to face him, swinging the gun around, and he knew he'd never reach him in time. But the other man would. He never thought he'd be killed by something as crude as a firearm--he always figured some rogue Banished would destroy him. But it was worth it to save these people. The gun was in his face suddenly, and he froze midstep. The gunman's finger tightened on the trigger and the hammer rose like an executioner's axe ready to fall.

Tiernan stared death in the eyes and smiled grimly at the irony of it all. He had spent the better part of two decades protecting the human race, and here he would be destroyed by it. He fingered one of the blades concealed in his wristband and wondered if he would be able to throw it with enough force to distract the gunman.

But he never got the chance--the other man, the one who had acted with him, got to the shooter first.

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Reakeda

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Sat Mar 08, 2008 5:16 am

Reakeda says... · Sat Mar 08, 2008 5:16 am

Time: Day 1, 8:37AM; Erion

Erion’s fingers had been tapping away at the keyboard for a good half-hour and he seemed intently focused on his paper, but he was alert to what was happening around him. His eyes shifted to glance over the laptop as the man walked into the coffee shop. The slow, deliberate way he seemed to be moving instantly set off a red flag, but Erion continued observing.

And then there was a gun. A million thoughts pushed their way into Erion’s mind, but his reaction was almost instantaneous. Sharp grey eyes shifted to momentarily lock with the only other person who seemed capable of taking action in the room. He didn’t let his thoughts linger he was close enough and the man was distracted now. The element of surprise was with him as he focused his energy into a kick aimed to disarm the man. He felt the contact and seconds later heard the clash of metal against tile. He didn’t lose focus. A quick jab to the right pressure point caused the man to black out long enough for Erion to retrieve the gun and turn it on him.

“Wanna make sure he doesn’t have another one?”

The question was directed to the goth-looking guy that Erion had locked gazes with.

“And somebody else mind getting an ambulance here stat,” more of an order than a question.

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Billy

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Sat Mar 08, 2008 6:24 am

Billy says... · Sat Mar 08, 2008 6:24 am

Day 1. 8:37. Josh

Josh felt himself get pulled against the wall, the busker reacting faster than him. He began to lean towards the edge of the glass, his curiosity overpowering any sense of self-preservation. She pulled him back away from it, "What the hell was that?"

"I think someone just shot someone in there."

"Don't try to look then, you'll just get yourself killed."

He stopped nodding. He could hear people scrambling around inside, no doubt most of them going for cover, though there was a lot more movement than people just going to ground. A second later, there was a thud, and a voice calling out, "And somebody else mind getting and ambulance here stat?"

"I think it's safe to go in now."

He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt. - Yossarian, Catch-22

Wide-eyed stupid.

If you're gonna rule the world, you've gotta get up early! - Joel S. Dickens

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Stephixy

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Sat Mar 08, 2008 6:46 pm

Stephixy says... · Sat Mar 08, 2008 6:46 pm

Day 1, 8:39 a.m. Lamiaferox

Lamia continued to twist her hair while the two young men attacked the shooter. The men moved at relatively the same time, but since one was further away, and more directly in the shooter's line of vision, he ended up staring down the barrel of the gun. The other young man ended up using some sort of karate on the shooter and knocking him out. Lamia's eyes could barely take in all that was happening.

Two men risked their lives, and she doubted they knew each other. The one man was dressed like a normal college student in a blue t-shirt and jeans, he had leaped up from behind a laptop, working on school stuff no doubt. The other man, was more alarming than the first. He wore all black clothes, had various chains hanging from his person, and his clothes, and he looked very intense, almost scary.

She then heard the college guy speak, something about making sure someone doesn't have something... then she heard the word ambulance. She quickly dug into the pocket containing two of her five cell phones. She grabbed one out and immediately pressed 911 and send. Quickly telling the woman what had happened and the address, she hung up in her nervousness. It didn't take long for her to hear the sirens.

"Oh my God, I'm an Idiot!" she practically yelled, "Police, shit police will come too..." she mumbled nervously. She stared scanning the room for a way out.

We keep waiting on the World to stop but it won't slow down and we'll never catch up... - Grey Holiday

We're making Fiction of our lives, Burning pages as we write... - Kids In the Way

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Rubric

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Sun Mar 09, 2008 1:59 am

Rubric says... · Sun Mar 09, 2008 1:59 am

8:39

Whatever sense of urgency that had suddenly led James to try and escape suddenly dissipated entirely. The pain from the cut on his leg began to register and he staggered over toward a wall.

Leaning against the wall, he ripped of a wad of his patient's gown and strapped it over the nasty gash. He waved his hand vaguelly over it for a few moments,and when he removed the material, the wound was merely a pinkish scar.

He walked up to the security desk, snapping a look at his id. Despite the sunnies, he would never pass for this Doctor Nicholson. He went to bypass the desk and leave through the atrium.

"Excuse me doctor, I'll need to see your identification, there's been a breach."

James turned back toward him and waved his hand at the guard, "You don't need to see my identification."

*Trying to work out how to catch up with the coffee shop people*

So you're going to kill a god. Sure. But what happens next?

Diary of a Deicide, Part One.

Got YWS?

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sylverdawn

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Sun Mar 09, 2008 1:41 pm

sylverdawn says... · Sun Mar 09, 2008 1:41 pm

*ack, I hate it when it adds a buch of stuff in front of your post, ignore this one.*

Last edited by sylverdawn on Mon Mar 10, 2008 12:13 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Ego

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Sun Mar 09, 2008 5:31 pm

Ego says... · Sun Mar 09, 2008 5:31 pm

OOC: You mean....besides the fact that someone just got *shot* and needs medical attention. Read the posts, yo. And Rubric...cute. Very cute.

Day 1. 8:40am. Tiernan.

"Wanna make sure he doesn't have another one?"

Tiernan nodded curtly and stepped forward, patting the man down carefully.

"Listen, thanks for your help back there--saved my ass," he said

"You're welcome," he said with a nod. Tiernan finished his search at the shooter's left shoe, then stood back up and dusted himself off.

"Yeah, he's clean. I'm gonna go check on the cashier--you got this?"

The man nodded and jerked his head toward the counter. "Yeah, good idea."

"Cool. Hey, I'm Robert by the way--call me Bobby," Tiernan said, using his given name.

"Erion." Tiernan nodded and walked past him to get to the counter, hopping it much like one would jump over a low fence. He crouched down next to the cashier and the woman who had rushed to care for her, a cute little college student with curly brown hair and--

Tiernan saw the blood and realized it was far too late.

"...Damn," he whispered.

"...Couldn't do anything for her," the good samaritan murmured. Tiernan placed a hand on her shoulder carefully, and she flinched away. He saw the soft glow of her pendant under her clothes, an ever-changing pattern of every color imaginable.

"People die in wars," he said softly. "Sometimes even those with the power to save someone shouldn't, for the sake of others." She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes, for it was a take on the Watcher's dictum: "Preserve humanity, not people."

"You're--"

Tiernan smiled and shook his head, indicating she shouldn't say anymore.

"You're not alone," he said quietly.

Got YWS? I do.

Lumi: Don't you drag my donobby into this.
Lumi: He's the sweetest angel this side of hades.

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Reakeda

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Sun Mar 09, 2008 7:21 pm

Reakeda says... · Sun Mar 09, 2008 7:21 pm

Time: Day1, 8:40AM; Erion

Erion kept the gun trained on the crazed man. A brief look into his eyes and anyone could tell that this man was not sane.

“Listen, thanks for your help back there--saved my ass," this from the goth-looking guy.

"You're welcome," he said with a nod as the guy finished his search. His eyes never moved left the man in front of him.

"Yeah, he's clean. I'm gonna go check on the cashier--you got this?"

A quick jerk of his head indicated for the other guy to go, "Yeah, good idea."

"Cool. Hey, I'm Robert by the way--call me Bobby.”

"Erion." The response was quick, but not rushed. Then the man was gone.

Erion looked the shooter up and down for the third time. He was fidgety and nervous, probably paranoid. Erion was sure his mind was working through a way to escape. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter. He could hear the high-pitched whine of the sirens in the distance and knew it wouldn’t be long before they reached the cafe.

Then he felt it. The vibration could barely be detected but it was enough for him to instantly realize something wasn’t right.

“Outside.” The command had hardly left his lips when the explosion shook the entire building. Concrete, plaster, steel. It all began to crash down around them. Puffs of dust and smoke filled the air mixing with the screams. Erion heard a child whimpering near him and suddenly the man in front of him and the gun in his hand seemed insignificant.

Furniture from the apartments above came crashing down with ceiling. He winced as a desk landed on someone nearby. The small fires that had erupted were put out quickly by falling debris. A piece of shrapnel bit into Erion’s back as he threw himself in front of the young girl he’d heard whimpering earlier. Another lodged itself in his side, but he didn’t feel it.

As suddenly as it had started, everything went silent.

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