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 the activity check and gala have ended, if your character has been archived and you need them back please pm one of the admins!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!
(
JUNE 18TH, 2015
)
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.
Lamia was a woman of the future- a woman with a reputation to maintain, and discoveries to make. Her entire career was bounded on the fact that she was a prodigy, and she held great honor in being named one. All of her research, everything was based on her youth and beauty. And of course, also on one shallow, disgusting lie that had been buried under success and secrets. She never felt guilty for what she did- the world did not allow time for petty things like guilt.
She never expected things to catch up to her- in her mind, she was too fast for history. It was all about the new age, the age that team Aqua could possibly bring. That she could bring. So even as she sipped her coffee, she only had thoughts of the future. Her blue hair was tied back into a professional bun, her dress something that worked as a business suit. Crisp and black and white. Her manner was perfect, her elegance poised and practiced.
Not many people in the coffeeshop recognized her (oh, no, she was out classed by the fat and old likes of professor birch, for Arceus's sake!) but there were some who did.
Fame was was intoxicating as ever, and the steps that led to it even more so.
Post by horace selborne on May 21, 2015 10:07:01 GMT
you caught me
SO OFF GUARD
Horace; a Latin name given to a child who's born into the Horatius clan. A word which means Timekeeper. This name itself can give off the chills to those around him. At least, his colleagues. As he treads, there's a form of disaster left in the wake. There's nothing wrong with it per se. A calamity for those who's on the wrong of his sides.
Horace Selborne; a child at a young age who lost his parents in a fire. Irony fills his life. It's everywhere, fire that is. One can't simply put it out as it gives the human the ability to create almost anything they so wish. Destruction and peace, an embodiment of all. A symbol of Hope.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The clock goes. His steps are quite light as he goes. Far above, the birds fly and below the ground types take in shelter to cool themselves down from the warmth of the sun. It beats down to him as he takes in how comfortable he is now.
There's no mistaking the swallow of the past, how an old friend of his, one of a younger status was cheated from his own game. Taken from the lime light. To this, he can clearly remember.
A wonderful beauty, long blue hair and a tuff of a lighter shade. Her eyes like the colour of the sky; an indication of her freedom and wilful nature to do the most of ridiculous things with no practicality of regret on her end.
So close, so near, he walks into a café. His presentation to those around him gives off a rather laid back persona. A white shirt above just a simple black jacket he always seem to don every time he goes out. A signature of him. Dark pants and loafers. A professional air fans around him.
As he was to take a seat; elsewhere, perhaps in the back, he notices a woman. She has a rather calm expression to her, but the familiarity goes off strong for him. She's the woman who helped out his friend long ago. How she grew into a beautiful individual, he doesn't know. He walks over to the counter and orders himself a cup of mint chai latte before he goes over to the girl.
"Do you mind if I sit here Ms Sinclair?" he asks with a soft expression to his face. His voice is gentle, tender. Yes, he knows of her.
Coffee tastes like nostalgia to her, someone who spent the majority of her life on campus half-asleep and half-hyper. Lamia is not too fond of reminiscing in the past, however, and unbidden memories are at best a show of lack of self-restraint. Memories of victory, however, are fine. She doesn't even remember his name at the moment, the name of the only man in the world she will ever recognize to be more intellectually capable than she was or will ever be. A man not suited to the life of success.
Lamia sips her beverage, the cup masking the ferocious smile of the triumphant predator.
A man she's never seen before (or rather, doesn't have the time to remember) sits in front of her, and Lamia can only gladly assume that he is a fan of her work. She won't deny that he seems capable, but sometimes appearances are deceiving. She knew that all too well, being who she was.
The man speaks and immediately makes a mistake, and Lamia's tongue clicks in annoyance. "Professor," she asserts, correcting the title he calls her by. She eyes him, irritated, but undoubtedly intrigued by what this man is doing here. She sips again, calm and confident, before waving a condescending hand.
"No, please, continue," she imposes, voice as calm as water. Obviously he is here for a reason. And he better not be afraid of stating it- Lamia's not too fond of games.
Post by horace selborne on Jun 1, 2015 11:10:05 GMT
you caught me
SO OFF GUARD
Tick. Tock. Tick...
The clock struck twelve, the mouse went down...
He takes this in and sits across from her. Brilliant greys to the woman who broke his friend from long ago. Her elegance still radiates for him as he looks at her. He knows of her, that's it. When the year book was produced, he found her by chance. There was no possibility that she would be here at all. What does he want from her? Nothing...
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock...
"Professor?" he cocks a brow up to her. His drink then arrives. With smooth movements he takes a sip of the drink. Bitter. A reminder of how long it takes for him to ask for sugar for the drink, he thinks it aside. "Was it hard to get that position or...did you graduate high marks for it?"
Calm voice, composure with no rhythm or rhyme. He takes in a deep breath. Time. It's essential, and she's already in the lead with her looks and composure. The air around her would end up choking him if he stays here longer. "Not sure if you know me, but, highly unlikely for anyone to remember me, I'm Horace Selborne, we went to the same university."
"I thought, when I saw you, we could have a bit of a small talk," he goes on. "Isn't that what acquaintances do?"
They're barely even friends, or rather, knew of one another. Why would she bother with him? She has no reason to remember a male who did very little changes for himself. Recluse, silent as a ghost. That's Horace. Another sip of the drink.
The surprise that lights up his face is met with a thinly masked scowl of her own. She doesn't like people not knowing who she is- it creates the illusion that she is not perfect and perfection is something she strives a little too much for. She went far enough to destroy and man and watch as he came to the realization that his life was ruined- it wouldn't hurt her to to it all again in a heartbeat. So she holds her position very dearly: yet another protective layer hiding her heart.
"You are correct," she stresses. "I graduated top of the class." She can only smile as she remembers how. His introduction is met with nonchalance. She doesn't know him or even remember him at all. But the friend of his? Yes, she remembers him all too well. "No I do not remember you. There were many people in that university, I'm very sorry but I'm afraid I could not hope to know them all." Her words her factious, and puncuated with a wave of her hand as she stresses his insignificance.
"But yes a pleasure to reacquaint with you, Mr. Sleborne." She smiles, but the line formed by her mouth is pressed. Lamia is polite for as much as she can be,but she knows her significance is greater than his and that feeling is gratifying.
"Small talk?" she asks, quite impressed by his bluntness. Impressed, but not exactly in a good way. "I'm afraid I'd prefer not. I have things to do and places to be going after I finish the meal. Is there nothing you want to talk to me about that is of importance, Mr. Selborne?"
