welcome to calamity! we are an au pokemon site based in hoenn. we do not have canons so you can pick them as your fcs! we have a short one hundred word word count. and you get to also pick your own starter! calamity is going to focus on providing users with a good and stable plot line to follow. this helps each character progress and some might even have a play in affecting the plot! we hope you enjoy your time here and if you have any questions don't be afraid to ask.
hey guys! we've finally hit our three month mark! let's stay strong. the activity check and gala have ended, if your character has been archived and you need them back please pm one of the admins! unfortunately, noods has steped down from his admin position. make sure you say your goodbyes here!
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JUNE 18TH, 2015
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hello calamity! we're nearing the two months mark in a few weeks. how time flies! right now we have two things going on that need your participation. the first is an activity check! it is impotant that you check in so you don't lose your face claim. the second is the otm nomiations! we're doing it a bit different than last time. so please submit your nominations in. a vote thread will be up in the next few days. there will also be a formal event coming very soon, so keep your eye out for that. keep being cool!
we're currently about to host calamity's first contest in slatepor. trainers are flocking to the city to see, the city's been trying to get good pr since the gala, and it seems to be working! they're asking for both coordinators and volunteer judges to sign up.
CALAMITY is a roleplaying forum inspired by the popular franchise POKEMON, which does not belong to us. the skin was crafted by PHARAOH LEAP of GANGNAM STYLE. special thanks to SPIRAL for contributing ideas! all art on the forum does not belong to us unless stated otherwise, while all written works belong to the members who posted them. DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING that is not yours, please. thank you.
Post by Elijah Castaire on Aug 13, 2015 9:24:30 GMT
A year.
Barely felt like it, and yet the dust that caked the tables and chairs were enough evidence to say otherwise. The air was heavy and thick, particles flying about as what had remained untouched was suddenly shoved aside. Clearly the place hasn't been lived in, it would be ironic to think otherwise, and yet he's annoyed all the same.
He hadn't managed to give anyone a note, simply, he didn't think that anyone would bother. Or rather, he didn't want them to bother him at all. His business was his own, regardless of whatever anyone might have to say or do to him. Magma was hardly worth the effort anymore, it was clear that there was hardly much to do with them anymore. Worse yet, a whole slew of manpower had arrived, and yet no movements were made. A waste of opportunity, rivaled only my Aqua's own ignorance of the matter. He could hardly believe the hearsay that came with its leader now that he gave it some thought, but that was a roasting for another time.
Elijah kicks aside the chair, a burst of annoyance and energy, horrible screeching as wood scrapes over the floor, toppling onto its side with a crash. Unknown emotion. It plagues him much like any other night, when he feels so restless that he needs to huff through a box of smokes. As it is, all this heavy breathing only serves to irritate his nose, dust flying all around. He coughs, before turning to wrestle with the window, hinges stiff as he pushes it open, bits of dust flowing with the wind as he does.
Thank Arceus his flight arrived at night, it would have been an utter disgrace to look so disgruntled with everyone around. But just like he remembers it, Oldale is as quiet as can be, not a sound at this hour, nor would anyone really mind until he starts swearing from the top of his lungs. Such is the impulse.
Moody. He thinks sullenly, this so called unknown emotion, as he settles on the couch, not caring that the grime would stick to his expensive clothes. He still has a whole luggage of clean clothes, aptly left by the door when he had first come in, to change to should he need it.
Right now he just wants to wallow in his lonesome.
Post by penelope reed on Aug 13, 2015 13:22:12 GMT
Penelope had been upstairs, tossing some of her things into the suitcase she had brought with her. Being here just made her depressed, thinking about Elijah, how they had lived together for the better portion of a year... Then he had gone. Just up and left, with no warning, no note. Nothing. Penelope had been heartbroken, and tried to seek solace in her hunt for the mystery texter. She had spent the last year trying to find him, getting so close a few times.
When she heard the rustle of the doorknob, her eyes went wide, thinking that maybe some Magma operatives were finally returning to finish off the rest of the documents that had been left here. The first week Elijah had been gone, they had shown up, and she had hidden outside until they left with piles upon piles of folder boxes. It was peculiar, but she didn't question it, instead accepting to herself that maybe they had killed Elijah to keep him from talking about something.
Grabbing her bow staff that Nikolas had made her one of the first times they met, she whipped it around in front of her to test it's sturdiness, before heading downstairs to see what the noises were on the main level. Her feet moved silently along the stairs, and when she reached the bottom, she frowned at the suitcase sitting at the front door. Had someone bought the house? As far as she knew, it was still in Elijah's name.
Penelope made her way to the bottom of the steps and turned, eyes fixating on one thing, sitting on the couch. She dropped the bow staff and stared, blinking. Her body hung limply now, shocked. "Elijah?" She whispered, barely connecting the synapses in her brain. "You're... not dead." She sucked in a deep breath, fists clenching. Now she was angry. Death was the only excuse for him not responding to her messages or emails.
Post by Elijah Castaire on Aug 13, 2015 16:01:03 GMT
He barely hears the sounds of her footfalls, which should really bother him at some point. He is considerably surprised at the sight of her, eyes trailing across her features even as his mouth sets into a thin line. Elijah had figured this would happen sooner or later, but he would have preferred it later if he could. He owes her some kind of explanation or excuse but really he's too tired to deal with anything that remotely resembles civility.
And really, its a sour topic he would rather not have to divulge, regardless of company. Somehow, especially Penny's. More than likely it would be his disappearance that she would care for the most. Already she had said so in the past that she understood there were certain things he needed to do, to maintain aspects in his life. He hadn't really believed it then, doubtful that she would be accepting of everything. This instance looked like a good example. The anger in her voice hardly shakes him, not after all the shit he's had to deal with in the recent months but it certainly sets an uneasy twinge in his gut.
Instead, he smiles pointedly, putting on that grin that seems to annoy just about everyone. "Who told you I was dead? If that letter wasn't addressed by me, or my lawyer, then I'm not dead, simple as that." He shrugs, before waving his hand in a small gesture of 'who gives a fuck'. Glumly he remembers a few of her letters, the dread laced into words that he might be gone. Demanding for most part to know where he was. It wasn't as if he didn't receive them, simply that he received them on a quarterly basis, bunched together, until the last bundle contained no letters at all.
"Do I at least get some kind of compliment like looking good for a dead man?"
Penelope sucked in a deep breath as she stared at him, eyes widening as he spoke, confronting her head-on, like it had been okay to just leave her hanging there, like she was absolutely nothing. She could feel her throat growing tighter as she watched him, eyes narrowing as he stated how he deserved a compliment for looking good as always.
If she weren't so infuriated, she might have found it adorable.
"Yes, you look fucking great. Really alive. I see you have both your hands, and stunning wit. That means you're not brain-dead either. Although I could say otherwise." Penelope huffed slightly, feeling her voice crack slightly as she spoke. This was so unfair, to be here when he got home. Why had he chosen to come back now, on the day that she was here trying to pick up her things?
Sighing, she pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, trying to make sense of it all. If he wasn't dead, then there wasn't really any excuse at all. "Where were you?"
