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Hilary Term 2007 - English Language and Literature


Knave

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Michaelmas vacation is over, the arrival of Hilary term heralded by the traditional flood of undergraduates returning from Christmas visits in time for Noughth week, either to make use of the libraries for some last minute preparations for Collections, or to get day drunk before tutorials begin again, according to their disposition.

The OUMHS is gathered in their private snug in the back room of the Bird and Baby, but Alice hasn't arrived yet. It's not her preference to arrive first anywhere. The Hunters wait for the Acting President to appear.

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Annika-removebg-preview.png.872abac25589690f6cf16f8da4ecdd12.png°φ←ζ Aηηika, hΣ HΣx ζ→φ•°

Conditions: None

Stats: Charm +2, Cool +0, Sharp +0, Tough -1, Weird +2

Harm:○○/○○○○

Unstable:

Luck:  ○○○○○○

Exp:  ●●●●●

Temptation: Power

Moves & Gear

Bad Luck Charm

Cast the Bones

Sympathetic Token

Force of Will

 

Rotes:

Leeching Enchantment

 

Gear:

Athame

Staff

Annika sits at the table in their special room in the back of the Eagle and Child. She is slumped forward with her cheek resting in her hand, propped up on the table. Her expression screams annoyance, or perhaps deep-seated anger, far beyond the surface level. Whatever her break had been like, it didn’t seem good. She bounces one of her legs in place, causing a bothersome and repetitive squeak to come from the floorboard beneath it. 

“I mean, it’s just f*ckin’ rude.” The explosive anger hints at a deeper problem beyond what her current complaints are focused on. “We’re out here getting our f*ckin’ arses kicked and she can’t even show up on time, ya’ know?” She pulls back from the table and crosses her arms, slouching back in her chair. The movement causes the black leather half jacket she wears to creak in defiance. The jacket is draped over a  white and black long sleeve band shirt displaying album art of a bleeding, anatomically correct human heart and the word ‘Attila’. It matches well with her usual black jeans and black, steel-toed combat boots. 

“Anybody know what we got this time? Did Hitler rise from the dead for his apology tour or something?” Her brow is still knitted inward in anger but it is clear she is trying to lighten her own mood with some poor humor. She still tries her best to keep her eyes from lingering too long on Ekram, but that’s nothing new.

OoC

N/A

 

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In Brief

spacer.pngEkram

The Wronged

Stats: Charm +1, Cool +0, Sharp +1, Tough +2, Weird -1

Harm: ○○○ / ○○○○

Unstable: 

Luck:  ●●●●●○○

Exp:  ●●●●

Playbook Moves

I Know My Prey

DIY Surgery

Never Again!

Trust Your Gut (alt Weird)

Invincible

 

A Vacation From This Vacation

Burn units. Not a fun place for anyone to be. Ice soaks, skin grafts, sweltering heat at all hours. In no universe is this the way Ekram wanted to spend his break but life rarely asks what you want out of it. Worse even than the pain and the medications and the hourly vitals checks is the cancellation of his trip back home. He'd explained to his mother about the fire, about being caught in the flames helping people escape. Nothing about monsters, but enough truth to make it easy on his lips. The first time he wouldn't be home to see her on break since he started at Oxford, and it wears on him during his hospital stay. Visitations had been limited due to infection risk and he did little to break from that once he'd been released back to the dorms. Phone ignored, purposeful solo treks away from campus to avoid any unsolicited door knocking. And his art, work that wasn't for any assignment and would likely never see the light of day, had become...decidedly morbid. Dark even for him, with undertones that would draw a raised eyebrow from even the most stoic critic.

The meeting at the Eagle and Child was the first he'd seen of most of the OUMHS crew since the whole dragr hunt came to its heated conclusion, and he was made to understand that the meeting was expressly 'mandatory'. Ekram's preference for hoodies had seen particular attention since his return to campus, and it doesn't take a genius to connect that with his newly acquired scarring. Neck, shoulder, jawline, right arm to the elbow. There had been more but those areas proved most resistant to healing, and the skin felt tight in patches across that landscape. He was never going to win any beauty pageants, and scars aren't new to him by any means, but something about the event had been so harrowing as to mark more than his flesh. He was reserved, somber, which might not seem a huge change to the outside viewer but for those who know him the difference is clear.

"Evil has its own schedule." He mutters the words over the rim of the glass, something floral and botanically fragrant without a hint of alcohol to give it kick. He is still working his way through the pain pills the doctors assigned, not that he relied on alcohol much before. The fingers on his left hand twitch, forefinger crossing over middle, in a motion that would generally impeded by a cigarette. He hadn't smoked one in near a month, truth be told. The hospital wouldn't have it, and the heat of lighting them made his cheek twitch, so he'd left the same half-empty pack in his pocket without a drag taken. Swallowing deep of the libation, he studies Hal from across the room. As one who got it nearly, if not entirely, as bad during the dragr scrap Ekram had wondered how Hal was faring with the fallout.

"Alice would say she is where she needs to be when she needs to be there." In fact, he's pretty sure he's heard he say exactly that more than once. Annika's jest about Hitler does send his thoughts on a spiral, though. How many famous people out there might be monsters? Sure, Hitler and Jim Jones and Elizabeth Bathory are easy go-to's because they're obvious evil. What about Bill Clinton? Or Oded Fehr? Or all of the Beatles? Could they put on a zombie reunion show, and if they did how many people would pay absurd amounts to go see it?

"Doc...you heard anything about this?"

OOC Stuff

Song felt appropriate.

Edited by DoNotFearToTread (see edit history)
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⛤᛭⛤ Stats ⛤᛭⛤

 

Harm: ○○○ / ○○○○

Unstable:

Luck:  ○○○○○○

Exp:  ○○○○

Moves

Cast Out Evil

Lay on Hands

No Limits

Smite

IC

Hal did not spend any time in the hospital. At least not in Oxford.

He does not speak of where he goes, but it is in a helicopter, it is to the south, and it is away. He does not collect his things, he does not bid anyone a fond farewell (the drugs did not help with that), and then comes radio silence for a time. When the Hilary term resumes, he does not skip a beat, returning and looking... surprisingly spotless. Not a scar, not a burn, not a hair misplaced, as if there were no draugr, as if there were no fire, as if no one died, as if nothing. The look on Hal's face at his first appearance is as if nothing is wrong, everything is right, and all is well. He remains quiet, he remains a reactive kid rather than a proactive one, one known but not well amongst his peers, and one whose grades are fine. Just fine.

In truth, having a grandmother with friends in high places meant medical doors opened for one in London and most of the winter break was spent listening to that awful Leon Jackson song while a train of medical gurus at the top of their fields treated him. All he really showed for it was being a smidge paler than he was before the Michaelmas break began, given the time spent inside away from windows while doctors and priests did their best to fix the sorted mess that was Hal Pereder. It meant no magical swords, no flames of God, and nothing to speak of.

It did not mean things did not happen to him.

And so there he was, sitting at the Bird and Baby, nursing an ale as if nothing happened and mum the word for it. At Annika's comment, he snorts. "Sooner Maggie'd get her seat back in Parliament. Maybe patience is a virtue. Maybe I need to be more drunk for this."

OOC

First post since we got the beat that's a player game, so we'll see if I'm in any place to do this. So far so good.

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ynu3uIU.jpgSophie

○ the Monstrous 

Stats

Harm: ○○○ / ○○○○

Unstable:

Luck:  ○○○○○○○

Exp:  ●●○○○

Moves

Unnatural Appeal

Dark Negotiator

Immortal

Unquenchable Vitality

IC

Sophie was the first to arrive for the meeting, but she has remained unusually quiet except for polite greetings and terse responses to small talk. She has a faraway look, as if her thoughts are on other matters. In truth, her mind is very much on the group and its wellbeing. As each member enters, she opens herself to their emotions, probing to better understand how they are faring following the break.

Annika feels the most closed off to her. She expects that it's her own fault. Ever since her mild deception was revealed, the relationship between them has been strained. The conflict with the draugr provided a temporary distraction from their issues. Sophie had hoped to mend things between them during the break, but with Annika being the only one to (grudgingly) accept her offer of a road trip to Stratford Upon Avon, things were just more awkward. Even their visit to the witchcraft museum went awry, with both of them sensing a dark presence there and prompting them to leave early.

Ekram and Hal are both easier to read, but both are dealing with issues of their own and Sophie is not sure how to best help them. She's also fairly certain it's not her place to meddle, even though she senses their need for healing. Ekram's burns may only be surface deep, but Sophie can feel the emotional scars running deeper, along with a longing for a connection.

Hal is a more curious case. He shows no outward signs of injury or distress, and internally he is surprisingly muted. Sophie suspects it's a kind of repression. The mind partitioning certain thoughts and feelings to the subconscious so as to allow normal function in the everyday. She's not sure if it's the result of training or just the brain's natural response to trauma. Either way, she has concerns for him as well, should that mental wall ever come down.

And then there's David. She knows his mind best of all, but she senses something new. It's difficult to parse, feeling like a combination of weariness and vigor at the same time. Is he invigorated by the new blood around him, but physically tired? Or is he world weary, but pushing through to keep them all safe? She's not sure, but she's worried for him either way.

Now where the hell is Alice?

OOC

Rolling Empathy just for funsies.

Edited by emotionaut (see edit history)
Name
Empathy on Annika
8
2d6+3 4,1
Empathy on Ekram
11
2d6+3 3,5
Empathy on Hal
11
2d6+3 3,5
Empathy on David
10
2d6+3 5,2
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The Hunters pass the time in the idiosyncratic surroundings of the common room, until almost an hour has slipped by. Then, one by one, their phones variously buzz, ping and chime as they all receive an identical text message from the Acting President.

Oh dear! I shall be too late!

 

OOC

Ekram, Hal, David - feel free to fill Sophie in on any current emotions or intentions that weren't made clear in your opening posts.

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Annika-removebg-preview.png.872abac25589690f6cf16f8da4ecdd12.png°φ←ζ Aηηika, hΣ HΣx ζ→φ•°

Conditions: None

Stats: Charm +2, Cool +0, Sharp +0, Tough -1, Weird +2

Harm:○○/○○○○

Unstable:

Luck:  ○○○○○○

Exp:  ●●●●●

Temptation: Power

Moves & Gear

Bad Luck Charm

Cast the Bones

Sympathetic Token

Force of Will

 

Rotes:

Leeching Enchantment

 

Gear:

Athame

Staff

Annika scoffs and responds to Hal without looking back towards him. “Ha. Yeah, I think I am going to start making it a rule that we all have to be banke before each of these meetings. At least we can do something useful with our time while waiting on Queen-“ She stops as her (and everyone else’s) phone buzzes. She looks down at the text message with no small amount of confusion, “What the f*ck does that even mean?” Before anyone can respond to her rhetorical question, she is already looking towards Ekram as he checks his own messages.

So his phone does work. Whatever excuse she had created for him ignoring her calls and messages over the break is completely shattered. Her lips go into a thin line and she looks away, rolling her eyes with the movement and not really caring if he saw or not. She drops her phone on the table in front of her and exhales a sigh.

Annika had not enjoyed her break. The trip with Sophie to the museum had felt distant and awkward, and she knew that distance was caused by her own issues. But that had actually been the highlight of her time away. The rest was filled with time spent around her parents, which had gone about as poorly as it possibly could have. Whenever she could escape their lectures about ‘working harder to earn her privileges’, she had texted and called both of the boys to check on them. Hal seemed in unusually high spirits, which she doesn’t think is too out of the ordinary. But Ekram had completely ignored her. And, fitting her selfish and spoiled personality, Annika has assumed its because of something regarding her. He must have lost interest — or perhaps he never had it in the first place. That’s what she told herself. 

She has a long way to go before she’s empathetic enough to pick up on the fact that perhaps not everything revolves around her. All she knows in this moment is that she wants something and it’s not being given to her, and that is enough of a reason to pout, complain, and generally be displeasing. Because that’s what cool kids do. That’s what spoiled kids do. “Sooooo…is she not coming? What does she mean ‘too late’?”

OoC

N/A

 

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ynu3uIU.jpgSophie

○ the Monstrous 

Stats

Harm: ○○○ / ○○○○

Unstable:

Luck:  ○○○○○○○

Exp:  ●●○○○

Moves

Unnatural Appeal

Dark Negotiator

Immortal

Unquenchable Vitality

IC

Sophie reads the message on her phone and furrows her brow. She doesn't leave it to chance. Standing and moving away from the table a bit, she says, "I'm calling her." And then she proceeds to do so.

OOC

It's the most logical thing to do.

Edited by emotionaut (see edit history)
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Posted (edited)

It doesn't even ring once. The cut glass RP voice of British Telecom clicks on:

The number you are trying to reach, is unavailable. Goodbye.

The line goes dead.

 

Edited by Knave (see edit history)
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spacer.png
spacer.png

⛤᛭⛤ Stats ⛤᛭⛤

 

Harm: ○○○ / ○○○○

Unstable:

Luck:  ○○○○○○

Exp:  ○○○○

Moves

Cast Out Evil

Lay on Hands

No Limits

Smite

IC

Empathy may be a mistake. Diving into what Hal is feeling, Sophie would find nothing but confusion and fear wrapped in an armor of paramount frustration and damnable irritation at factors outside his control: at the people who healed him, at his grandmother's influence, at his father for not even coming to visit him, at some force beyond all of this that was at once both hands off and hands on, forcing new and terrifying powers upon him. He doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand any of it, and the powers he's given make even less sense. Logically, even if Sophie is not particularly familiar with Arthurian legend, it makes sense: what does an organic sword and flaming shit have to do with Camelot or even Welsh mythology? Confusion wrapped in frustration: that's the name of the game within Hal.

He reads the text again as the line goes dead and it becomes obvious on Sophie's cheek the phone call is over. "Who talks like this? 'Shall'? Is Alice possessed by the spirit of Lewis Carroll?" He jokes, but then adjusts. "Maybe we should go find her?"

OOC

X

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Posted (edited)

Absent any other pressing engagement, the hunters make their way towards Alice's college, splitting up to cover the most likely routes. But no one spots any sign of her, and so in a short time they all reconvene at Merton Lodgemerton-2-450x0-2 in the dusk.

Merton is a small college, with less than 300 undergraduates, and famous for only two things: consistently leading the Norrington Table that ranks colleges on their exam performance, and for walking backwards around their main quad at 2am once per year to ensure the clocks go back on schedule.

Edited by Knave (see edit history)
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ynu3uIU.jpgSophie

○ the Monstrous 

Stats

Harm: ○○○ / ○○○○

Unstable:

Luck:  ○○○○○○○

Exp:  ●●○○○

Moves

Unnatural Appeal

Dark Negotiator

Immortal

Unquenchable Vitality

IC

Sophie marches around to Merton's main entrance and finds the porter at the front desk. Though Alice may be her senior, Sophie is very much her elder in all the ways that count, so she channels that into her concerned inquiry. "Here, could I have a word, sir? I'm lookin' after a student, by the name of Alice Simmons. We have some worries for her well-being, so. Could you direct us to her room, now? Much obliged, sir."

OOC

Let's try to Manipulate Someone.

Edited by emotionaut (see edit history)
Name
Manipulate Someone
9
2d6+3 3,3
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The porter looks at you all a little suspiciously, as though suspecting a prank or scheme, but looks reassured by David's presence, and wordlessly picks up the desk phone and dials through to Alice's room. He lets it ring for a minute, then replaces it. "Since you've raised a safeguarding concern, I'll check her room. You can come, but I can't let you in." He picks up a ring off keys and leads you around the main quad, a large portion of which has been hastily covered with tarpaulin, and cordened off with cones and cheap orange tape.

The porter leads to you to the first floor and an oak door. He knocks for over a minute, and then turns a key and steps inside, calling out. Thirty seconds later, he's back. "No one home". He sounds a little accusing. "We can keep a note at the front desk?"

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In Brief

spacer.pngEkram

The Wronged

Stats: Charm +1, Cool +0, Sharp +1, Tough +2, Weird -1

Harm: ○○○ / ○○○○

Unstable: 

Luck:  ●●●●●○○

Exp:  ●●●●

Playbook Moves

I Know My Prey

DIY Surgery

Never Again!

Trust Your Gut (alt Weird)

Invincible

 

A Vacation From This Vacation

The message is strange. Not just the syntax, which seems to hang up Hal a bit, but rather the intent behind it. If you're going to be too late and you send a text, why would you not send the context of the lateness in the damn text? Ekram slides his phone onto the table and listens to the others go back and forth as to the purpose of the whole thing. Sophie even puts in a phone call but meets with exactly what one would expect in this situation. The idea that they go to find her is posed and he can't really find a reason to argue against it, so he pulls the jacket off the back of his chair and dons it over his hoodie, snatching up his stuff from the table and shoving them into pockets before he follows them out. The distance isn't far but covering all routes means splitting up, so he takes the bike rather than make the walk. No sign of her on the way, and Sophie initiates the conversation with the flunkie behind the counter so again he is left to stand in the back and kick invisible dirt around the floor.

"Is not like Alice." Now it's bothering him, making the burns on his arms itch and his stomach squirm around inside him. She takes her role pretty seriously and this kind of lapse in communication feels wrong. He stares down the porter, considering for a moment how he might shove past the man to check the room, but doubts about the value of the action cloud his mind. All his instincts say something is wrong now, but he's never been great at focusing that anxiety into viable information. A deep breath, a glance down the hallway, and he opens himself up to the hunches.

OOC Stuff

Okay, gonna try to Trust My Gut now. Never worked before so why not?

See, if I smack talk the dice roller I get results.

Edited by DoNotFearToTread (see edit history)
Name
Trust Your Gut
9
2d6-1 6,4
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spacer.pngThe Reverend Dr. David Beaumont, Professor Emeritus Sheet

Luck □ □ □ □ □ □

Harm □ □ □ | □ □ □ □

Experience □ □ □ □ □ (+1 banked Advance)

 

Sophie's read on David was spot on, of course. It always was. He wasn't behind a desk anymore, was out making a real difference. And he had been spared most of the burns the others had been subject to, the worst of his injuries having been some bad smoke inhalation that had left him with a rough cough all throughout Christmas but had then cleared up - a far cry from the worst of the injuries he'd gotten doing this sort of work back in his youth.

But age had stolen much of his vigor. He was slower to heal than he had been. And then there was the guilt. How could he be feeling upbeat when his charges had been so injured under his watch? He wasn't sure what he could have done better, but that doesn't assuage his feeling that they were so hurt as a direct result of his shortcomings.

 

David is a thoughtful man, more prone to studying data than inferring outcomes. So while Ekram makes a cut call, he mulls over the exact words texted to them. Over and over again. Was there some sort of code hidden within them? Some secret instructions, or more detailed call for help?

Name
Investigate a Mystery (+sharp)
5
2d6+3 1,1
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