Welcome to Moon Bound, an original supernatural RPG set in the fictional town of Thunder Cove, Washington.
Its early winter 2013, and the snow is already getting deep in the small coastal town of Thunder Cove. Things in this picturesque tourist town aren't exactly what they seem. Nothing in the world is what it seemed anymore, its as if the closer the world came to that fateful day on the Mayan calendar, the more the supernatural creatures of the world woke up and made their presence known. The fae are walking among us now, as are the old spirit guides and warriors of old Native American lore. The werewolf, vampire, and skinwalker populations have all taken a sudden rise, and the witches of old who had thought their powers lost to them have suddenly found themselves able to do magic again. The world hasn't ended, but its changing. Some say for the better, some say for the worst. In Thunder Cove, the population is split in half knowing that their town is a supernatural hot spot can make things difficult-- especially when the normal members of the population are part of the food chain.
Graphics, skin and plot by Ara. All character profiles, threads, and plots credited to the members of Moon Bound. Sidebar by Brook (never look back.) of RCR, RGU, & Blank Pages
Chris shivered violently as he half-stumbled out of his door, tugging on his jacket and wishing he’d thought to bring a pair of gloves. Then again, they wouldn’t help that much. Only part of his chill was due to the temperature, in fact, he barely felt it given his inner turmoil. He was so consumed in his thoughts that he was halfway to the sidewalk before he realised his front door was still wide open. A couple muttered words and a sharp gesture behind him fixed that, a sudden gust of wind slamming the door. The concentration necessary to cast the spell cleared his head and gave him a chance to collect himself. He needed...something. There was something he was meant to do...something was happening. Was going to happen. Had happened. Might happen. Time was always a little confusing after his visions.
They came on again at no more provocation than that thought, images and sensations, flashing through his body like he was living through milliseconds in someone’s life, impossible to reconcile to any sort of coherent story. Darkness. Pain. Fear. Blood. Pain. Alone. Afraid. Monsters. Pain. Pain. Pain PainPainPainPainPAIN. When he came back to himself, Chris was leaning against a fence, trying his best not to vomit up the rest of his dinner. His nerves tingled with an odd sensation that took a while to fade, as though they should be on fire with agony, but couldn’t sense the stimulus that made them feel like that. And he prayed fervently to any god or goddess that listened that they never would, he prayed no-one would, that this future was the worst possible one he was living through, but he didn’t have high hopes.
With one last deep, shuddering breath to steady himself, Chris pushed himself off the fence, back onto his feet, forcing himself to continue walking. He didn’t know where he was going, or why, he simply knew he had to. It was a queer feeling, he was basically a puppet to his power, going somewhere because something needed to be done. It didn’t happen often, and never before had he felt it this powerfully, but it was probably best not to fight it. Not that Chris was sure he could fight it if he tried. He felt dislocated from reality, barely attached to his body. Like some sort of dream (maybe a nightmare) he couldn’t wake up from.
It seemed to take no time (and yet all the time in the world) for Chris to reach what seemed to be his destination. He barely spared a glance for the sign on the 24 hour diner/coffee shop, the only one in town. Instead his eyes were drawn, just for a moment, to the moon. Fuller and brighter than usual, it seemed to dominate the sky, perhaps giving him the reason for the strength of his visions. After all, it was only a couple of days since his circle had gathered for the Perigee-Syzgy of the moon, colloquially known as a supermoon. Tearing his eyes away, Chris moved to the door, hesitating for a long moment with his hand on the door, images and snapshots from his vision flashing though his mind. A big part of him didn’t want to have to confront that. Unfortunately, it seemed that most of being a male witch was doing things you don’t want to.
Somehow the sound of the bell, the cheery jingle as he opened the door, even that sounded ominous tonight. Thankfully, Chris barely heard it, his attention snapping straight to the young woman sitting in one of the booths. He would have called her beautiful, if he noticed women other than Sera, and if he’d spared a moment’s thoughts before his actions. Never before had his visions been this clear, he felt as if he knew everything about her. ”Payton Dallas, something very, very bad is going to happen in your future.” He told her, not bothering with preamble as he sat himself opposite her in the booth, not quite able to look at her, for fear of suffering through his dream again. Even just the glimpses of her aura were fascinating.
[[690-ish words, wearing clothes. I hate it, but I cannot spend longer on it, it's already been like 4 days.]]
Sometimes, not often mind, just very, very occasionally Christian missed living with his Grandmother. Occasionally it was because he missed the semi-functional sense of family, they’d never been the poster children for a healthy relationship, but he’d been obliviously happy for quite a bit of his life. Sometimes it was just because Christian felt bad about standing up for himself knowing it hurt his grandmother, she had fed, clothed and cared for him for quite a long time after all (she used this guilt card quite often in their rare reunions). And very, VERY rarely it was because he feared she might be right. Once, just once, after some stupid fight with Sera, the thought had slipped into his head for a bare second. He still felt guilty for even thinking of considering it.
On the other end of the spectrum, the very tip top, number one reason Christian missed living with his grandmother, the reason that actually occurred pretty much every day was chores. Maybe it sounded like he was complaining, or whining, but he was treated like the royalty his grandmother expected him to be. Sometimes he almost had to wonder whether it was worth never having to cook in exchange for his freedom. Not for too long, but every now and then...thinking about Sera kept him from regretting it for longer than half a second.
As Christian stared into his fridge and realised he didn’t have enough food to cook dinner, he had one of those half seconds. With a forlorn sigh, he let the door drift closed, giving a small smile as he heard the light click off. As a child he remembered trying to sense the magic that made the light go off and on. Back then magic had made more sense to him than electricity. It still did really, but he was getting better. He still hadn’t gotten a TV though, and he wasn’t planning to any time soon. He had changed the battery in his smoke alarm the other day though, he’d been proud of that. He wasn’t quite stupid enough to brag about it to Sera though; she would’ve just laughed at him.
It was only a ten minute walk to the nearest grocery store, one of the selling points of the house, although at the time Chris hadn’t realised how important it was. As long as he kept his shopping loads light, he could walk back and forth. A life saver when you didn’t have a car. Of course, it meant he had to take several trips a week, but hey, walking was meant to be good for you, even if you had to wear shoes, close to torture for Christian, leaving him unable to feel the earth beneath his feet, though he could still sense it.
As he walked through the automatic door, Christian found himself squinting slightly in the artificial light, seemingly much harsher on his eyes than the natural sunlight. Doing his best to ignore the sheer artificial lifelessness of everything around him, Chris hurried in the door, scooping up a basket and heading for the fresh fruit. As the door closed behind him, it took with it the last chance at fresh air, leaving stale oxygen that had been recycled over and over. Humans were sometimes difficult to like, they seemed to have no sense of connection with nature, an idea that was totally alien to Chris, who had grown up sensing the earth around him from the womb. Here, surrounded by machines creating artificial light, artificial air, even the fruit kept alive and good with artificial chemicals...It got to him sometimes. One of the few times he wished he had less of a gift was when he got these attacks of nerves. A comforting touch to the pentacle pendant around his neck calmed him slightly, enough that he could do the shopping he’d come to do and leave.
Or he could have, if he hadn’t seen...something from the corner of his vision. Just a glimmer, then gone. Distracted from his discomfort for a moment, Christian followed the glimpse of an aura into the next aisle, ignoring signs was generally a bad idea, especially when it did no harm to follow them up. Once he had the woman in view, her full aura hit him, stunningly different to anything he’d seen before. Of course, everyone’s aura was unique, this was more than that. This woman was not human, fae, vampire or werewolf, all of which Christian could recognize if his sight gave him a glimpse of them. The only thing that really fit was...Skinwalker. He’d heard and read about them, but Christian had never met one.
And so his curiosity got the better of him, overpowering his common sense. With nary a thought to the consequences, Christian advanced up the aisle, his mouth spitting out the first thing it could think of once he reached her, never bothering to check with his brain. ”Hello, my name’s Christian. I’ve never met a Skinwalker before, are there many of you in town?” By Christian’s social awkward reckonings, this was a perfectly natural way to introduce yourself. The fact that he already felt that he knew quite a bit about this woman (given how he’d read her aura) probably didn’t help in his attempt to find correct social boundaries. He did hope that his friendly smile would help smooth things over slightly. And of course he remembered to offer a hand to shake, his empty basket switched to his left.
[[900+ words, cbf making an outfit, but I promise he is wearing clothes.]]