forum The Affairs of the Gods and of Men // O/O // Closed!

Started September 24, 2021 by @gracehustle

tune

Welcome everyone to the crazed need for an rp that is in my mind right now. I want something romantic and drama-filled but also filled with action if anyone would care to join. As for a plot line to go with the title, all I can say, is a war going on, and (cliche) characters from each side being the main characters. I'll info dump the idea if anyone shows interest in this.

As for things like rules, I suppose just ask before joining, and have responses with no fewer than 3-4 sentences. Maybe also be alright with things like gore or blood and violence.

I'm not always the most active person, but I will say that I can try to answer this at least once a day if the same amount of work is put in from whoever joins. :)

(Alright, so, here's the best way I can explain what my idea(s) are: (As I wrote I realized i had several ideas, but they could all be combined with a little work)
The first one goes along the lines of a war between two forms of higher beings, and while the war doesn't involve mortals, a general from one of the sides finds themself on earth for some reason or another, and while they need to get back to the fight, they find that they need to rely on the help of a human to a) heal enough to get home, or b) find a way to actually get back. While the human is helping them, the general finds themself entranced over the human and falls for them. And of course, right when they fall for them, the opposing side finds the general, and the pair is in danger. Things spiral from there :)

The second idea is on similar lines, except it's a being from one side and another that fight against another but find themselves in a situation where they have to actually work together (more of a thought than an idea but whatever)

The third one has to do with one single side of the story, and the leader of the side, and a close confidant/childhood friend. The leader doesn't want their friend to get hurt, and so they won't let them contribute to the fighting, leading the other to find their own way to help out the side they believe is best. While doing so, they come across people from the other side, and thought it takes time, they learn that their side may not be right. And so, they start helping the other side from the inside, all while being torn about the idea of hurting their friend. Would lead to lots of heart-wrenching betrayal, maybe some villainous sides coming from the leader, and a whole lot of exciting dramaaa

Anyway, which one sounds the best to you? Any inputs or questions? Also, as for characters and romance, I can work with literally anything, so there are very few limits to creativity)

(I am really into the first one, and I bet we could mix the third one in as well, since they might be able to recognize each other from a few years ago? Maybe one was kidnapped and a victim of war, and that is something they team up to get them out of.
Also this is a total mlm story but idk if you have a preference lmao)

Here's a definitely not late starter!

The Allram military camp was just waking up, going from silent to quiet mumurs when the rain started. It was a sleepy morning, light patters of raindrops soaking the temporary buildings and gravel paths, as well as the few soldiers that dared to get up early on their one morning of rest.

Astram was one of those people. But he wasn't up by choice. He was up because he had to get all the way across the sprawling camp to try once again to join the Allram Front Line Mech Force. Every month he walked to the application to submit his application and wait to hear if he was accepted into the force, and every month, he was turned down within the hour. But this time, he was determined not to be. This morning, he had gotten up early enough to make it to the center an hour before he usually did, which would hopefully keep his application in the system longer than usual. If the general wasn't up that early, that was.

His only barrier into the force was the General. Every time he applied, he was called to the General's presence, turned down, and told some excuce for denyal. Last month he had been told he hadn't passed the weekly fitness test, and warned that applying again would be bad. Like concequences would stop him from applying

Tucking the crisp white envelope that held his application into the inner pocket of his jacket, he pulled his hood up. He took one last look at the sleeping barrack before turning on his heel. The rain outside didn't deter him an ounce as he stepped out into it, the small drops of water rolling easily off of his thin rain jacket, protecting the precious documents inside, even if it didn't do much else. It did nothing for the cool spring air, that was taken care of by his sweatshirt. It was a baggy, paper thin, unhooded thing, but it kept him warm. Plus, it was the only one he had, military issued.

He knew the rain wasn't going to stop anytime soon, so he did his best to ignore it as he wandered along, hurrying across the gravel paths that connected the camp. A small gust of cool air blew back his hood as his boots squished in the wet gravel, leaving his wild curly brown hair to be pattered with raindrops before he could pull it back up. Astram quickly tugged it back up while passing another set of barracks, hurrying his steps as he did so. He had five minutes to make it to where he needed to be, and he didn't intend on being late. Not if he wanted to make use of his one chance to get into a front line force.

As rain pattered comfortably on the mottled roof above, a hush of wind stirring at the open windows and blowing into blowing fans. For now, it was chilly in the application barracks as General King stood and busied himself with shifting papers (blank and white, ready to be filled out by new members), as well as a turn in box for everyone to put their applications in.
Ray King, a dark skinned man with bright grey eyes and mottled muscularity that gave him a sense of authority that he well deserved. His hair, braided into dreads, tucked upwards into his shanko as he sat in uniform, waiting for early arrivals. He took the first shift, until the first breaking of dawn around 4am, till when the recruitments woke up around 9. Not very many people knew that he took this shift, so it was a good chance for those who did… To get some personal one-on-one time with the man who had control over almost everything.
The Mech Force had been his home for years at this point. He had legs in many lines of fire, but the one he was found in the most was the front one, working in technologies and overlooking the few men and women who made it there. And here the man was, patiently waiting in the almost calming room, his eyes half-closed as the sweet smell of rain cleansed his senses.

Astram made the rest of his walk quick, muttering under his breath about his general dislike of the rain. He didn't mind it, but it soaked his boots, and in turn got his socks wet, which was a good way to make his mood drop. He took a moment to refocus on the task at hand.

With the confidence of someone much more intimidating than himself, he opened the door to the application center, pausing as soon as he stepped inside. The application center was a vague term for a single-room building that held all application ordeals, including the makeshift offices -a desk and filing cabinet- for each line that needed an application. Usually, the center was bustling, but at the break of dawn, there was only one person in there. The one person he didn't want to see.

He held back a sigh of disappointment as he pulled down his hood, shaking his head to loosen up his curls. Unlike General King, Astram looked much less intimidating. He was lean, built with nothing but strong muscle and bone, and though he was tall, he didn't carry himself with an aura of power. His eyes were the same color as chocolate, and they were filled with a look of faint disappointment.

"Good morning General," He spoke, tugging his application out of the inner corner of his pocket. The path to the application box went by without his thought, and it was muscle memory that caused him to drop it into the box, before turning to look to his superior.

General King looked up as he heard wet footsteps squeak through the linoleum of the hall, no expression crossing his face until he recognized who it was. It had gotten to the point where he recognized this man on a first-name basis, mostly due to his stubborn nature of achieving such a ridiculous goal. No one followed him into the hall, so it was truly just the pair of them as it was the last few times Astram attempted to apply to his core group of primed individuals.
"Good morning, Recruitee Astram," King grunted, his eyebrows raised on his thick forehead, which had droplets of dew stuck to it. "I thought I would not be seeing you again, recruiting for The Mech Force. I am surprised by your… lack of subtlety." He cleared his throat softly, his big hands and long fingers delicately lifting the stark white envelope, untouched by the sparkles of rain. His fingernails tore it open, also as though by muscle memory, his eyes burning into Astram's darker ones.
Once he received the necessary papers to look over, is when he broke the eye contact, dropping his gaze to scan them mechanically. Unlike what the man might have thought before, General King did look through and leaf through the information as if he had never seen it before, emotion or bias not showing any sinews of a hint.
"I am concerned about your schooling in gun control. It says here that your supervisor was concerned about your over empathetic personality. The Mech Force will rip such a trait right out of you, I hope you understand that. As I am… sure you do." His eyes came back up, narrowing with his last sentence.

Astram shrugged slightly, linking his hands behind his back as he watched King look through his papers. "I'm not much for subtlety, General." He wanted to add that it was pointless to try to be subtle when applying, seeing as he had been doing such for long enough that General King was a close acquaintance. He kept his mouth shut though, still mulling over why he had thought there would be someone else manning the application process.

While he didn't speak, he watched the movements of his papers carefully, waiting with more hope than usual for a good answer. Usually, King didn't even bother to look over the papers, just opened the envelope and started with his denial. This time it seemed like he was actually giving the application some thought.

Until the General spoke, that was. Astram's shoulders dropped ever so slightly in disappointment, but he quickly recovered, opening his mouth to respond. "Sir, the exercise was set up in such a way that anyone with an ounce of compassion wouldn't do well. It wasn't a good baseline for my gun control. You've seen my other results." The amount of formality in the conversation was almost unnecessary, in Astram's opinion, seeing as they went through the same process every time he was here, but then again, it made the process easier. With formality he didn't have to bring anything other than his response that he would say no matter who was doing the applications.

"I am not complimenting you, may you be aware," King snarled gruffly. His eyes narrowing slightly. "I hope you understand that my patience with you has worn thin. I personally had to warn you to not apply again." King set the papers down, neatening them up with strangely gentle fingers that did not match his aggravated expression.
"Your other results are fine. Not exceptional. You still qualify enough to be a janitor for The Mech Force, as your stubbornness shows me that you will have a hard time listening to instructions. These intrusions of trust have had people bow to the face of our enemy, had them killed, or kidnapped in attempts for information. My force is the most esteemed, noble and intentional men and women in this entire country. I do not believe you would be a good fit due to reasons beyond both of our controls." General King pushed the paper back forwards to Astram, frowning heavily now. "Accept this as your punishment. Knowing full well your stubbornness has harmed your chances of ever working with me. You are on to stay Squadron 4708 until further notice, and I will not be accepting your applications for deliberation anymore. Dismissed."

The words hit deep to Astram, but he kept his face up, the only sign of his anger being how his jaw tightened. He had tried time and time again to raise his results, had excelled in almost all areas, and had even been complimented about his persistence, and here was the one person he was working to impress, telling him the opposite. He felt as if his world was falling apart, all because of one single piece of paper and his desire to climb the ranks.

"Sir, Squadron 4708 is scheduled to be stationed away from the front lines in a few days, is there anywhere else I could be placed?" He asked, the slightest hint of worry hinting in his voice. Astram had fought tooth and nail to get to this encampment. He couldn't be sent away, not when everything he wanted was here. "I would be willing to be stationed anywhere else here, even if it is with the incoming cadets."

General King rummaged around in his jacket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, shaking the pack as he listened to Astram speak (or rather, beg), spraying a soft huff of smoke down onto the table, the familiar acidity of cigarette smoke making itself known in this building. General King seemed to be the only man who ever smoked, as everyone else did some sort of vapor smoking, but King smoked much more than everyone combined. One would know he were approaching by the smell of his distinctive cigs and cologne.
"I do not think you should be placed with the incoming cadets. We were too nice to you to allow you to do that twice before, and if you want to prove yourself, you will join 4708 and our incoming forces of Mech. Maybe then would you impress me. Dismissed, " King huffed finally, spreading more smoke from between his thick lips.

(Sorry for the wait…got caught up with the stomach bug over the weekend and am finally back with enough energy to respond)
"Yes sir." Astram nodded once, doing his best to hide his frustration. He took his time grabbing the papers General King had pushed towards him, folding them and gently putting them back in his pocket. It was pointless to try arguing again, and frankly, if he was scheduled to leave in just a few days, there were more important things to get situated before leaving.
Tugging up his hood, he turned on his heel and didn't look back towards the general, forcing himself to move towards the door. He wasn't sure if he felt shame for being turned down once more, or if he was angrier, but he was more focused on reaching the door before unraveling how he felt about the whole situation. Astrum didn't even pause to say goodbye to King once he reached the front of the building, opening the door and only pausing for a second when he saw that the rain had picked up slightly, muddying the already sloppy path back to his barracks.

The rest of the day passed along sluggishly, almost as slow as the surrounding weather. Fog settled around the barracks as soldiers rose for their morning routines, kissing the faces of individuals ready to continue on with their exercises and last minute preparations.
Meanwhile, planes and cars crept into the camp, dropping off newcomers into the busy, shifting body, as though it were a wriggling, seizing bug hands, legs, and arms all moving in one singular motion.
But as work got done and lines went into the same building Astram left, the fog got thicker as night fell. It was silent as leaders of the combatants collected their groups and siphoned them onto cars and buses, including the reluctant soldier joining a group of numbers– faceless men who snoozed on the buses as they drove to their next destination, prattling on about this or that, smoking, or eating.
This ride lasted well throughout the night. The driver took frequent turns, so many that it was hard to keep track of them. The other buses and cars full of men and women veered away, all split apart as they all had their own places to be. Squadron 4708 reached theirs when the sun was high up into the sky, lighter fluffier clouds occasionally covering the blazing hot rays of snapping energy. They were greeted with a small bunker, more than half the size of the original landing base for incomers. There was a bed for all of them, as well as a small mess hall and a storage room full of supplies in case of an attack.

Astram spent most of the ride sleeping or wondering what he could've done differently. It was too late to change anything now, but he could always dream, and it helped pass the time. He didn't speak to any of the other passengers of the bus, keeping to himself, even as they were shuffled off the bus and into their new home, a small bunker that he was already sick of seeing.

"I hope it's not always this damn hot here." One of the other soldiers grunted as they set out their belongings on their bed.

"With our luck, this'll be the coldest it is," Astram grumbled, earning a snort of reply from the original solder.

"At least I'm not the only cynical one here," The solder replied, turning to look over at Astram, a tiny smile on his face, "What's your name, beanpole? I'm Mika." Mika was an interesting-looking man. About Astram's height, he was tall, but he was clearly strong, well built with visible muscle. He had vivid green eyes, and dark hair that was cut short, as well as a nose that had been broken so many times, it was clear where it was bent.

"Astram." He tipped his head in greeting, sitting down on the edge of his bed. They had been told there was no instruction for what to do until tomorrow, meaning he had the rest of the day to do whatever he wanted, including make a friend out of his new barrackmates.