forum Something Magical // O/O // Closed

Started March 15, 2020 by @MarDeColores this is not it kids

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So… I'm very bored. I'd love to use my child Mycah (Mycah Harrow) for something. I don't really have any solid ideas, so if you want to bring some prompts, that would be great!

I think Mycah is really cool! What if there is a war on and the characters are on opposite sides and one gets captured?

Oh, thank you! You know, that would be really cool. I'd love to do that.

Rad! Do you have any requirements for a character or anything?

Not really. If there would be romance, your character would have to be good with a demimale, as you probably saw. Otherwise, it's all good!

Okie dokie! I think I’ve got a gal who will work. Do you want to post a template? I totally can if you would like

You can, if you wouldn't mind. I'm kinda terrible at making templates.

Oh, sorry!

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Appearance:
Personality:
Magic:

Name: Chelsea Lowman
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Pan
Appearance: Curly blonde hair to her shoulders, tan skin, bright green eyes, short (4’11”) and very curvy. Wears a red jumpsuit with golden accents on the shoulders and wrists
Personality: Firey and always ready to start a fight, Chelsea is what you would describe as passionate. She expresses her emotions openly and loves competition for the thrill of it, which is what led her to join the military instead of any morals or beliefs.
Magic: Chelsea has a magical khopesh (curved Egyptian sword) that she uses to deflect magical attacks. It glows gold in the presence of magic and is stronger than any metal.

(Cool! Which of them will be captured?)
Name: Mycah Harrow
Age: 33
Gender: Demimale, they/them
Sexuality: Demi, bi
Appearance: Shoulder length black hair, straight. Chocolate skin, orange eyes, 5'4", lean. Usually wears long pants, a t-shirt and an army jacket over it. All made of magical fabric that changes colors slightly to match the surroundings.
Personality: They usually keep to themselves and are very short and to the point. They don't care what other people think, either about them or about other things. They usually say what they think.
Magic: They have magical tattoos on their arms, chest, and back. These let them create small shields and shoot magical bullets at stuff. If they so desired, they could also create small weapons like knives or small swords, though they usually don't do this. They can also influence people through music (they sing and play the violin). They don't know they have this ability, however.

Most people didn't like stealth missions, but they were Mycah's favorite. They didn't have to sit in a vehicle for hours, making small talk with the others. It was just days of silent hikes through forests and the occasional skirmish. This one was different, though. Most of the enemy soldiers had gotten away, but they'd captured one. A woman, wearing those detestable jumpsuits Mycah had grown to hate. And, of course, they'd drawn the short straw and had to guard her. Mycah didn't bother keeping their face neutral as they glared at her. The only good thing was that they got to sit in the tent, sheltered from the rain that had started a few hours ago. But then again, they had to watch her. It wasn't like she could go anywhere. She was tied to a chair. But orders were orders.

Chelsea strained against her bonds, but it was no use. Those bastards had her secured well, and even if she did manage to break free, there was an enemy soldier in the tent standing guard. She glared back at them, eyes burning with hatred. “Coward,” she hissed. “How ‘bout you come over here and untie me and I’ll show you who the real weak one is.”

"No." Mycah continued glaring at her. They hoped that someone was going to come in soon to tell them something about the prisoner, but so far, there was nothing. So they kept standing there, almost as still as a statue. There really was nothing else to do until someone came with more orders. And hopefully, that someone would come by soon.

Another officer entered the room, giving Mycah a quick nod. “Congratulations, soldier. You’ve been chosen to interrogate the prisoner by any method you see fit. There are no orders to leave it alive.” Chelsea spat at the officer, fighting to be free of her chair even though she knew it was useless. With a disgusted look at her, the officer left the tent. Chelsea turned her gaze to Mycah. “Do your worst. I’m not telling you anything.”

Mycah turned to look at the officer, listening silently to the orders. "Very well." They watched as the officer left, then turned towards the woman. They weren't exactly excited to interrogate this enemy soldier, but… Mycah grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of her, just out of reach. They sat down and leaned forward. "What's your name?"

“Kiss Myass, it’s a rather common name where I come from,” she replied with a feral grin. She had been waiting to try that one out for literal years. “How about you? This interrogation can go both ways, after all.” Chelsea was operating off of the assumption that she would escape, and so was trying to get as much information as she could for her superiors.

Mycah sighed. They were considering going and getting someone else to do it. They weren't the best at interrogating people. Or talking to people. Or anything to do with people. "Yes, I know it can. I'm sure you know who I am, don't you?" Mycah tilted their head slightly, bright orange eyes locking onto her green ones. "If not, congratulations. You've been living under a rock."

Chelsea’s eyes narrowed, meeting their gaze. “And I thought I was self-important. No, I don’t know who you are. That must be a real blow to your ego, huh?” She shifted around in her chair, trying to get a grip on the slippery rope to try and untie it. Damn knots! This was going to be trickier than she thought.

"That's new. I like it." Mycah nodded ever so slightly. "Why don't we exchange names? I'm Mycah Harrow. And you are?" They narrowed their eyes at the woman. "Stop trying to get free. It will end better for you if you cooperate." Mycah glanced towards the entrance to the tent, wishing that someone else would walk in. Gods, why did it have to be them?

Chelsea filed their name away in her brain and figured it couldn’t be that bad if she did the same. “Chelsea. Chelsea Lowman,” she replied. She stopped struggling, for a second. “Why should I, Mycah? In case you didn’t know this, I don’t like being held prisoner, and I don’t want to help the people who keep me that way.” She caught a glimpse of their tattoos, and flinched involuntarily, though she tried to cover the action up with a smirk. Those tattoos meant nothing but pain and death, no matter what anyone said.

"Well, Chelsea Lowman." Mycah leaned back and crossed their arms over their chest. "There's nothing I can do to let you go. You're my enemy. Setting you free would only mean bad things for me. Unless you give me a very good reason, of course." They caught the flinch and sighed slightly. There was a reason they always wore long sleeves, although people always managed to see them, no matter what they did. For most, having the tattoos was a source of pride. It meant they were special, that they were good enough. But for Mycah the represented everything they hated about the people they were forced to kill for.

“I’m sure I can come up with one,” Chelsea said seriously. “Give me a few minutes.” She cursed inside her head that she had let them see her flinch. Showing weakness wasn’t allowed, she knew that, but being this close to the enemy stirred up some dark fears she hadn’t faced in a long time.