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 the activity check and gala have ended, if your character has been archived and you need them back please pm one of the admins!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 CALYPSO FREYJOLD on May 28, 2015 2:07:05 GMT
私をライトアップ。
He lives here. That only damned Magma fool that's been plaguing her for months. Who did he think he was, to walk out so early, to end all of their fun? Calypso held grudges, indeed, and today Elijah Castaire would be reminded on just how not alone he was in this world.
He's not home. He doesn't have to be- shouldn't be. It takes her seconds to enter. He's been too lax with her security. Had she not suspected him to be a complete dunce, Calypso would have thought it to be a trap. No, inside is simple. It always has been. She doubts there's much too the man. Hell, she'd like to believe that she gives him life.Excitement. It's just a rental, but it will do.
Step one- the warning shot. Calypso is left to assume that the first thing he does is take a piss. Clear Saran wrap is taped from the left half of the doorway to the right- a perfect surprise, akin to walking into a spider web. But this time, the spider web will be transparent, nearly invisible, and completely knock him in the face should he attempt to enter his bathroom.
Crickets are released into the bedroom. Approximately thirteen. No questions asked.
She's not all bad. A wild ekans has been captured just for the occasion. The thing is placed in his bed sheets, left to roam for itself.
His kitchen? A firework rig. A lighter is set to flick on after Elijah steps through the wire, placed perfectly low to the ground. A flammable trail leads to spark a few wailing fire crackers, aimed at him from the opposite side of the room. She can only hope he's stupid enough to walk through and then realize his mistake. No mercy.
The nice little icing on the cake is a single, black thumbtack, placed upright on the seat of his desk chair.
Heed my warning, Elijah Castaire. I will not let you forget about me.
Post by Elijah Castaire on May 28, 2015 8:42:36 GMT
He's a little drunk, he can admit that, and it takes more than five minutes for him to fumble around with his keys and finally get into his own house. Not really his house though, like hell would he live in a little dump like this if he had the choice, but its as good as his for the time being, no pride in that.
Hes slips off his shoes by the door, eyes bleary as he lets out a yawn. It's barely evening, but an afternoon of downing drinks takes its toll and there's nothing more he'd like to do than sink into bed and sleep the rest of day off. He yanks off his shirt and tosses it to the floor, somewhere between the couch and table. The good thing about being a bachelor in his own home is that no one gives a shit about that. He'll pick it up eventually.
His back is surprisingly marred, flecked with scars and almost clinical incisions, but that doesn't matter to him as he shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of water, unknowing of the horrors that await him. He's eyes are almost completely shut when the first fizzle of fireworks set off.
CRACK. BOOM. FSSSHH.
Elijah freezes, the rocket narrowly missing him but surges into the kitchen instead, exploding into a fiery shower of sparks and light. It scatters around, thankfully the flares too weak to set anything on fire. "SON OF A WHORE." But the flares manage to catch on Elijah where he stands, searing into his skin as he stumbles backwards in pain. He rushes for the bathroom, to douse the burns with water, only to hit the invisible wall of plastic wrap.
He struggles with it for a bit, the plastic proving difficult to deal with but the surge of adrenaline is too immediate, and he manages to tear himself free, growling as bits of plastic stick to his torso. He relishes in the sweet relief when the water hits his skin, but the dangers have made him more alert than ever.
Even with his alcohol addled mine, he has enough sense to think that someone's been setting these up. Little traps, almost childish in their manner with hints of malice in between.
He turns the tap off, breathing in deep to concentrate. Eventually he lurks out of his own bathroom, eyes looking out for any more triggers. "Whoever the fuck you are, you had your fucking fun." He snarls. He doesn't rule out that there might be cameras about, no doubt his assailant wants to see the humiliation. His burns throb with flickers of pain, feeding his anger.
Post by CALYPSO FREYJOLD on May 28, 2015 17:42:38 GMT
私をライトアップ。
From her crouched place next to his couch, Calypso can only giggle to herself as everything goes according to plan. It's obvious Elijah is anything but sober, based on his movements. A smirk takes place on her lips as she watches him stumble like a fool. His war cry only provokes her.
The trap card. Her murkrow has been waiting for the moment. Elijah is scared, vulnerable. The crow waits in the kitchen, talons wrapped around the sink hose that's been nestled next to the faucet. He cries out, ready to pull the trigger. Elijah is a stationary target. If he reacts quickly enough he might be able to get away but... for the most part, this is going to be a very wet day for him. The hose doesn't need to reach him to soak him down. Tiresias's cackle is an obvious laugh.
"You've had your fucking fun"
Oh, no. Not quite. She's smaller than him, low to the ground. In one fell swoop Calypso herself launches into the scene, fingers wrapping around his pants at the outer thigh. All of her strength goes into the yank, her intentions to make the soaked cloth fall to his ankles. Regardless of if it works or not she gives the Magma a good push (despite her smaller, more fragile size) before rushing back, away from the beast. God knows what will happen if he gets his hands on her. She may be faster, but even Calypso knows she's significantly weaker.
"You don't remember me, Elijahchaaan~?" she pants, voice riddled with adrenaline and excitement. "That really hurts my feelings." As if that pout is genuine.
Post by Elijah Castaire on May 29, 2015 12:30:42 GMT
The Murkrow's little more than dark blur, among other things that he's failed to notice. What does register is the hose though, and then the water. But all in vain, he holds up his hands to uselessly bat away at the water, spluttering as he gets a face full of water. It's a whole mess, water getting all over the floor and furniture. The best he can do is shuffle away, get out of the water's range and get something else to beat the Murkrow away. He would curse more but he's too busy spitting out water.
But something collides with his leg and he hazards a turn to stare at whatever it is. He's expression is of surprise, as if he hasn't been surprised enough this evening, before quickly turning into a snarl. "What the actual fuck are you doing here?!" He rasps out, just as his soggy pants gives up on clinging to his hips and falls with a wet slap to the ground.
He can't say he doesn't know her, not with how much trouble she's been causing but so far it's been minor things, things he can ignore like a missing condom or something stupid. There's obviously a thin line between what she considers fun and psychotic. Maybe it's some ploy to make him go insane. Barely matters with the situation at hand, since she's already here and now he has to physically handle her. Fuck, he hates kids. He attempts to kick Calypso off, but all he manages to do with his pants in bundles around his ankles is shuffle around and then awkwardly lose his balance.
If he's lucky, he might just crush Calypso and that's the end of that. If he's unlucky, his shoulder is going to ache for a week.
Post by CALYPSO FREYJOLD on Jun 4, 2015 18:58:43 GMT
私をライトアップ。
"Visiting!" she breathes, adrenaline relentless in her feat. "Tiiimbberrrrr~!" she hums, barely finishing her cry before jumping out of the way. It's more than obvious that the discombobulated man is hitting the ground any second. She doesn't want to be around when he does- standing from the side, she winces as the thud of flesh on wood echoes through the chaotic house.
"Cut the water, Tiresias." she says simply, blinking at the bird as it flutters to the kitchen to turn the nozzle to a stop. Triumphantly, her foot finds itself on his torso, her hands on her hips and she leans down to look examine him. "What's that gross smell?" she pouts, going in to poke his cheek. It's familiar, but she doesn't quite have a name for it. Eli-smell? Who knows.
"Where have you been? It's like you got up and left without even thinking to say bye!"
Post by Elijah Castaire on Jun 5, 2015 2:05:13 GMT
Visiting?! That didn't make much sense. He's sure that he's never invited Calypso over. Why would he? This case was enough reason not to, and he had expected as much from the rambunctious Aqua.
He falls with a loud thud, shoulder banging on the floor. Yep, that was going to be sore tomorrow, as he groans and rolls onto his stomach, a snarl poised on his lips. Elijah is still blinking the water from his eyes except now there's sting behind them where tears are forming from the pain. He wasn't going to cry, not with Calypso around. More ammo for her tauntings.
Being taken down by a kid was humiliating as is.
He grunts, trying to get up but he's right arm feels useless from pain and he ends up slipping back on the floor, chest smacking back down floor. He tries to swat her away but that's hardly effective. Smell? "Alcohol, probably." He grinds out, dazed from falling over.
"Maybe I didn't want to be found. Ever thought of that Kipso?" He grumbles, going for another effort to stand. This time, he grabs onto a nearby table, thankful that he didn't smash his head into that instead. He knows that she doesn't really mean to kill him, or else one of them would be dead already. "Is that all? You missed me so you decide to make traps in my house?" He snarls, making a quick lunging movement at her to grab her arm.