To be honest, Otto would also be like "The group as a whole comes first" though. He loves Winston and will do everything he can to ensure his partner stays healthy but ultimately he's more of a 'one for all' instead of 'all for one' kinda guy
Otto is up for leadership but also I think Winston or Fordwin would be hella good leaders regardless of their ailments. We'll just have to see what happens when our characters put it to vote in the roleplay but Pawskie does have a point too
With Winston tucked safely in his arms, Otto doesn't stop for anything even as kids and teachers alike are dying around him, "Everything is gonna be okay, Winston. We just need to reach the gym," He rasps thoughtlessly to the smaller male, and he's not sure which of them he's actually trying to comfort. Another boy, this one he doesn't recognize straight away like he had with Winston, pops up alongside them and a flash of wild red hair flies hy them too, "Nobody is okay!" He says back, louder than necessary as the other boy falls back to make a path for them and keep one of the dead things away. Hoping the boy with the neck tattoo would be okay back there, Otto sends a wordless glance of thanks and makes one last sprint for the gymnasium.
He crashes through it's heavy doors, his legs giving out and he slides across the floor with Winston flying from his arms. The first thing he does is look around the gym to see if anyone else made it, panting and nearly hyperventilating as he crawls weakly towards Winston. He recognizes the familiar face of Ev, and there's also two girls and a younger boy as well as two dogs. Otto presses a hand over his racing heart and tries his best to calm down and breathe evenly. The sight of the dogs makes him wonder if his poor Sarge is okay back home. Wondering if his mom and dad are safe back home. Wondering if any of his friends in the school are still alive. He reaches Winston as the same time that he registers the tight aching in his chest somewhere. Otto sniffles quietly and drags his hands over his face, get a grip, he scolds himself. Wheezing quietly, he digs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his much needed inhaler. And promptly drops it from his bloodied, shaking hands, the medicinal device clattering the the floor and he just stares at it. And suddenly, the dark-haired boy is curling against Winston with big, ugly, wheezing sobs. Otto doesn't cry often but given the circumstances, it's hard not to.
I wanna check before I do this, am I able to post twice if someone is interacting with my character or should I wait for others to reply? Just checking before I write up another post.
Dittoing Pawskie, as long as it isn't just replying one after the other so others can get a chance to post without being flooded then we gucci
*crashes through wall*
EV TO THE RESCUE
Evengaline
MamaEv rescuing Winston and Otto :')
Dude I actually giggle-snorted at these but I legit headcanon it that Winston and Otto are actual disasters without Ev around to look after them
Absolutely. If your character dies and you want to stay in the rp, you can either create a new human character (which being brutally honest is the preferred option) or, like you said in your example you could possibly take control of someone's pet with the rper's permission but still having a human character along with the animal you're playing is encouraged
I don't even bother with fancyposts. Unpopular opinion but I personally don't like using fancies. All I do is align and color my posts lol. Where my 'I don't have a fancypost' gang at
Tbh that's why I haven't posted yet since my last one
I'd go with the second idea since it was decided way back on page 2 that the zombies can open doors ^^;;
While Otto isn't as bloody as Winston, that doesn't mean he's at all comfortable with the crimson liquid matting his shirt and sprayed across his pale face. The heavy copper and iron smell of it clogs his nose and he swears he can taste it on his tongue with every inhale through his mouth. The only comfort he can find in all this is the heat of Winston curling against him, the gentle presence of his friend and secret crush blanketing his screeching mind in a quiet calm. Pale eyes flick up at the familiar voice of Ev, crimson smearing his entire left side and despite that he still mamagea to smile as he holds Otto's inhaler out to him. The fact that two of his closest friends are still alive and made it to gymnasium lifts a small bit of the crushing pressure of stress from his chest. Winston and Evengaline are here, safe, unharmed. Otto leans back from Winston gently and takes his inhaler, wordlessly for his throat feels too tight to force oit any words, taking two hits from it and just sitting there to let it do it's thing. A few minutes later, he croaks out hoarsely, "Fucking hell, am I glad you're both alive."
Otto scrubs harshly at his face with blood dried on both his face and palms, looking at the doors of the gymnasium, "Let's hope these dead guys can't open doors." He murmurs, laughing bitterly with a feigned humot he doesn't actually feel at all. It turns into quiet sobs rather quickly, "I really, really hope they can't."
*inhale*
I just wanna put it out there for future reference that service animals are for any and all disorders and disabilities and stuff, not just for specific ones. So literally all of these kids could have their pets be service animals considering majority of them have disorders
So like if you wanna make your character's pet a service animal, go for it, I just want you guys to be aware that making the pets service animals doesn't automatically mark them 'necessary for the group' (with Charlie being an exception for obvious reasons and because she is useful to the entire group and not just Fordwin alone)
That said, I actually have a support dog that is trained to open the lower fridge door and bring me an apple at certain times of the day to remind me to eat three meals a day. So Luna can absolutely be Winston's service animal
Yessss track while I make a charrie for this~
The two elven females are not the only living creatures in the forest on this cold day bringing a warning of ice and snow on the harsh winds. In a cave burrowed low enough to easily spot and climb into the side of a rugged rocky mountain at the edge of the forest, lays a creature's nest. A nest full of death. Shattered egg shells and splashes of crimsom liquid, a broken sword coated in red and scattered scales scratched by a blade, but no bodies. No humans or animals anywhere in sight. Just a nest full of broken eggs and blood. Except that there is one survivor of the apparent battle that had taken place in this cave.
Outside the cavern nest, on the very edge of a low cliff, there is an egg. Having been knocked out of the nest by some means or another the egg had been unseen in the snow flurries of the approaching blizzard, but now it's presence is apparent. The shell gleams like metal, like hardened steel, whenever the light hits it. Whatever lingers inside the metallic egg stirs, still alive despite being exposed to the cold, feeling the presence of other creatures nearby. There's yet a hope for survival for the orphan dragon egg.
ShatteredDimensions Here we are!
The village of elves and humans rapidly trying to bring back what they could before the blizzars hit, they are not the only living creatures in the forest on this cold day bringing a warning of ice and snow on the harsh winds. In a cave burrowed low enough to easily spot and climb into the side of a rugged rocky mountain at the edge of the forest, lays a creature's nest. A nest full of death. Shattered egg shells and splashes of crimsom liquid, a broken sword coated in red and scattered scales scratched by a blade, but no bodies. No humans or animals anywhere in sight. Just a nest full of broken eggs and blood. Except that there is one survivor of the apparent battle that had taken place in this cave.
Outside the cavern nest, on the very edge of a low cliff, there is an egg. Having been knocked out of the nest by some means or another the egg had been unseen in the snow flurries of the approaching blizzard, but now it's presence is apparent. The shell gleams like metal, like hardened steel, whenever the light hits it. Whatever lingers inside the metallic egg stirs, still alive despite being exposed to the cold, feeling the presence of another creature nearby. There's yet a hope for survival for the orphan dragon egg.
The metallic egg sits on the edge of the cliff for a time, the sting of winter trying its damnedest to bite through the shell. But the dragon is a hardy species and the small creature in the egg will not give up just yet. And it is right not to do so. A presence, one of the two it'd felt earlier, draws closer than it had been before. The dragon wants desperately to survive and be in the warmth, but it will simply sit and waiting patiently to see if the presence comes closer.
The waiting pays off when the presence continues to come closer and closer, until... Warmth. Blessed warmth, even just a few drops of it. A cold metallic shell pressed to a comforting beat, a beat of a heart, and a voice. It feels the intent of the creature, an elven female that wishes for this to work for them, and it is grateful to her for reaching it so it hastily accepts. The surviving dracling inside the egg quietly taps a beat on the membrane and reaches with it's heart, letting the elven female know that it is still alive and that it's grateful to her. And that it can't wait to meet her!
The dragon would come out now if it could, but it knows the conditions aren't right for it to hatch. It's much too cold out and it understands that carrying an egg will be much easier on it's savior than carrying a newly hatched dragon too. So it simply waits and continues to monitor the presence of the elven girl.
Independent from what's going on in thr alleyway of the city, a single black she-cat walks down the rainy street with not a care in the world. She's pitch black in hue and a forboding white skull pattern marks the expanse of her chest. This is no ordinary cat, no, this is a Werecat. Born and raised in this city and she knows every book amd cranny of this place like the back of her paw. Drawn out of her cozy home by the sounds of a struggle and the smell of blood, Ella Garcia just has to imvestigate what's going on. She pads her way towards the opening of the alley, her luminous pale eyes gleaming in the rainy night, and she walks into the narrow space towards the sound of voices.
//An elf, half elf, half orc, and catperson plus three dragon eggs. We have a pretty nice party forming here :)
The egg with the metallic sheen doesn't give any more noises or movement from the moment that it's pressed close to the girl carrying it. It remains completely still and silent, idle from the outside but the little dragon inside is doing more than just laying there. It's waiting, listening, feeling. Continuously monitoring the presence of the elf who plucked it out of the winter's cold clutches. Sensing for other creatures around her. It feels a faint ripple of movement when the elf carrying it appears to take a bit of a tumble and then comes voices. The comforting voice of the elven female, the voice of the half elf it sensed earlier, soon both are joined by the distinct voice of an unidentifiable male and it further detects two other dragons and one more entirely unidentifiable presence close by. Unfortunately soon after the dracling hatches, it will not have this sixth sense but for now it's a useful perk to get a feel for the creatures waiting for it outside. Most dragons from this particular species possess this extended sense while still in the egg. A survival tool.
Time passes and soon the egg is very warm with the fire's heaf. Warm enough that the dracling feels comfortable to push against one side of the shining steel-like shell and give a couple inquisitive taps to those outside but it doesn't make an effort to actually break through. Is it safe to come out? Is now a good time?
A particular egg tucked safely away in it's nest by the man whom rescued it from the clutches of humanity is quite a sight. An egg that appears to be entirely made of metal plates. Given the egg only has a metallic sheen like hardened steel and is not actually made of metal, and the steel plates are just the egg's outer shell casing protecting the actual membrane.
A gentle vibration of the egg splits a fissure across the soft inner membrane, abruptly a pale arm flexing long fingers tipped in jagged talons erupts from the shell and sends the scale-like plates flying from where it shoots out. Small shavings flake off the metallic outer shell like flakes peeling off the surface of a bar of soap as the clawed hand flails at the shell before the arm darts back inside. The egg now rocks at a steady pace as the creature within squirms impatiently against the breaking surface of it's cozy prison. It doesn't take long for the toothy maw of the baby dragon to force it's way through the opening and expel fluid from it's nostrils to take it's first breath, the jaws parting to bring harsh noises of the creature's birth into the air. Jagged talons thrust out of the widening opening and clutch at either side of it, slowly but surely forcing the breach open and dragging the hatchling out of the egg. The egg tips over onto it's side and abruptly breaks open the rest of the way. The dragon that spills onto the floor of the hatchery is absolutely nothing like the shining metallic egg that birthed it. Really the dragon is not pretty at all. It's a pale, tiny, ugly thing, a male of it's species.
The dracling is longer than he is tall, taller than he is wide and almost blindingly white standing out against his metal eggshell. Several protrusions of developing horns line his face and spine with a gaping maw lined with jagged, tiny teeth and small but equally jagged talons. Chrystalline eyes like diamonds opening for the first time to focus their vision on the surroundings of the baby. Oversized white wings bat the air awkwardly to try to balance the gangly thing and his long tail slaps the ground while he tries to get his long limbs situated beneath it. The pale scales of the hatchling are soft to the touch like regular skin and damp with the egg fluids. With age the scales will harden like steel and he will lose his snowy white hue and take on a metallic sheen like his egg. For now though the dracling is vulnerable and defenseless. And wet.
Finally finding his legs beneath him, he shakes off to rid himself of the egg white dripping off his body to the best of his ability. The cleansing of the embryonic fluids of the egg reveals the baby dragon in full. Chirruping a curious but wary noise, the dragon instantly begins looking around at all the other eggs and hatchling from the safety of his nest. He seems content to simply observe the place they have all been born into with the curiosity of a newborn animal but the wariness of an intelligent, sentient being.
SIGN ME THE HECK UP
//I probly should've mentioned this like way earlier but my b if my posts are typo central. I use FF from my phone and the autocorrect does the actual opposite of its job
The egg stills and goes silent once more, the dragon apparently considering. And, there. It feels the thrum of the being outside, of the palpable excitement. Now it's excited to! Yes it wants to come out. It wants to meet these beings outside its egg!
A gentle vibration of the egg is all they get for a couple minutes, until a bio quake from it splits a fissure across the soft inner membrane, abruptly a pale arm flexing long fingers tipped in small but jagged talons erupts from the shell and sends the scale-like plates flying from where it shoots out. Small shavings flake off the metallic outer shell like flakes peeling off the surface of a bar of soap as the clawed hand pokes at the shell before the arm darts back inside. The egg now rocks at a steady pace as the creature within squirms impatiently against the breaking surface of it's cozy prison. It doesn't take long for the toothy maw of the baby dragon to force it's way through the opening and take it's first breath, the jaws parting to bring the noises of the creature's birth into the air. Small talons thrust out of the widening opening and clutch at either side of it, slowly but surely forcing the breach open and dragging the hatchling out of the egg. The hatchling butts it's head against the now fragile eggshell and abruptly the fissure breaks open the rest of the way. The dragon that promptly bursts up out of the shattered pieces swaddled in Nymeria's cloak is absolutely nothing like the shining metallic egg that birthed it. Really the dragon is not pretty at all as far as babies go. It's a pale, tiny, ugly thing (most babies are really), a male of it's species.
The dracling is longer than he is tall, taller than he is wide and almost blindingly white standing out against his metal eggshell and warmed by the fire's heat. Several protrusions of developing horns line his face with a maw full of with jagged, tiny teeth. Crystalline eyes like diamonds opening for the first time to focus their vision on the surroundings of the baby. Oversized white wings bat the air awkwardly to try to balance the gangly thing and his long tail slaps the ground while he tries to get his long limbs situated beneath him. The pale scales of the hatchling are soft to the touch like regular skin and damp with the egg fluids. With age the scales will harden like steel and gradually take on a metallic sheen much more like his egg as he grows. For now though the dracling is pale and soft, vulnerable and defenseless.
Finally finding his wobbly legs beneath him, he shakes off like a canine to rid himself of the egg white clinging to his body to the best of his ability. Chirruping a curious but wary noise, the dragon instantly begins looking around at everything around him. He seems content to simply observe the two girls and the one man with the curiosity of a newborn animal but the wariness of an intelligent, sentient being. Until he spots the elf girl and from some unknown means he knows she's the one that rescued him from the cold. And then the dragon is an excited squeaking mess of baby limbs as it tries and fails to crawl out of the folds of her cloak to reach her.
He may not be so visually pleasing as far as baby dragons go but he's now attached with an unshakeable bond all the same.
//I'm so glAd you guys like him and think he isn't fugly and I'm. He's legit just a spooky looking protective fluff ;~; For names, I'm not actually sure though? I have three (Shoiynbai "forged of steel", Rentarou "made from smelted metals", and Kan-ool "steel son") but can't decide between them ^^;;
The dragon only quiets down and goes still once Nymeria picks him up, making quiet squeaking noises of content and the tail gently coils around the wrist of one of her hands in a possessive way. Cradled in her arms where he feels completely safe, he settles his oversized baby wings clumsily and pushes his toothy snout into the crook of her arm with an affectionate chirp, quietly imprinting on the elven girl who rescued his egg from the cave of broken eggshell.
The dragon isn't hungry really. At least for now. He already absorbed all the nutrients he needs to hold him as he gets his first glimpses of the world while in embryo, a handy survival mechanism in case he would have no parent or caretaker present at the time of hatching to get food from. He won't want to eat for a bit. Fortunately, as is emphasized by the other girl, Aerys, commenting about hunting in a blizzard. The dragon shudders at the thought of experiencing the cold again.
A gentle stroke down his spine prompts the baby dragon to raise his head and look up at what he recognizes as not only a friend but what he'll learn to recognize as his rider. The tail coiled at her hand wiggles in much of the same way a dog might wag it's tail. He takes a quick look at the other two and then promptly dips his snout back down into the crook of Nymeria's arm. Socialization with the others later. He'll just chill out here for now.
