Rebels & Mutineers is set in modern day New Orleans, Louisiana. R&M is fueled by player's plots and group input.
Supernatural people have always had their place in society, hidden in plain sight or locked away for their own protection. New Orleans, a haven for the strange and mysterious and a magnet for the supernatural.
Established: Oct. 27th, 2018 Recently Updated Posts && Recently Updated Threads
05.11.19
As the community reels from the untimely death of Lucia Lovelle, life has to move on. Primrose readies for the annual Prom celebration! Keep your eye out for a event board and have fun!
02.27.19
It's not too late to vote for February's OTM winners! The winners for January, keep an eye out on your messages for your winner's graphics for your signature. Already voted? Make sure you check out the Mardi Gras event board! Party up, have a good time, and enjoy!
Post by Jennifer Joy Rothschild on Apr 24, 2019 18:01:21 GMT
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Open! | Come interact with a grumpy JJ!
JJ didn’t even feel like a person. Granted, she often didn’t really feel like a person, but that was usually because she was high on something artificial that made her feel like she was soaring, pumping her full of a euphoria that she would never be able to recreate naturally. However, today she was nursing the wicked hangover, courtesy of a party that she had attended last night, which meant that her lack of feeling like a real, living, breathing person was largely self inflicted, and remarkably negative for the first time in a while. The worst part of it all was that she hadn’t even really enjoyed herself. Sure, the party was fine, they were all fine, but she hadn’t managed to find an actual person there who wanted to talk to her outside of her little supply and demand chain of various pills and substances. And sure, normally that didn’t bother her, at least not to this degree, but lately she had been feeling the pressure from her parents, from her family in general, to make a name for herself, and she had no idea how to do it. So yeah, everything felt pretty fuckin terrible right about now.
At the very least, she could remedy one of the reasons that she felt so miserable. A hangover cure was pretty simple, most of the time, and consisted of greasy food, water, and black coffee to shake off the last fingers of sleep that her body was still yearning for. Those things were easily gotten, but they also meant venturing out of her room, which was something that she could really do without right about now. WIth a groan, she hauled herself out of bed, ran a brush through her hair, and grabbed whatever clothes that she could reach with minimal effort, ignoring the pounding headache that had settled directly behind her eyes. Thank god her roommate was gone, and had left quietly this morning, probably because JJ had not come in quietly at all this morning, and her roommate knew exactly what state that she would be in this morning; despite her general indifference to the woman that she shared a living space with, she had seen her in a number of states and had helped her out of each and every single one. The woman had to be a fucking saint or something, and it was kind of annoying.
Just before she headed out the door, JJ slipped some cash in her pocket in case she decided to head out into New Orleans proper, which was fucking doubtful given how she felt right about now, and her sunglasses that she promptly slipped on to block out the persistently bright sunlight that felt designed especially to scorch her retinas. She slid them into place, and made her way outside, cringing even behind the dark lenses covering her eyes.
SHE had just made it to the coffee place on campus and placed her order, waiting for it to be made, when she heard someone say her name behind her. Without turning around, or even glancing into her peripheral vision, she spoke. “You’re either incredibly brave or remarkably stupid to be talking to me this early on a Saturday before I’ve had coffee.” The barista behind the coffee bar slid her order to her, and she grabbed it, breathing in the heady aroma of the coffee that fueled her entire being before even turning around to see who the hell had decided to ignore all common sense and talk to her.
Post by Luka Ronan Giroux on Jun 1, 2019 16:08:03 GMT
His hand trembled once more, dropping the pencil. He had been sketching most of the night, but couldn't seem to get the angles right. It was this piss-poor assignment. The measurements were off and everything else was seemingly going to shit. Giving a sigh of defeat, Luka raked his fingers through his tousled hair. It was at this moment he heard the birds and saw sunlight leaking through the apartment. Morning had arrived.
Glaring out the window at the sounds of his failure, he pushed his chair back and walked into the kitchen. For what, he didn't know. He wasn't hungry, he drank with Declan last night closing up and then headed here hoping to make some sort of head way.
He paced. Stroking his beard and muttering to himself as his skin prickled. Itchy, and raw. There was only one stress relief he needed. Cursing, he grabbed his jacket and walked out the front door slamming it behind him. He couldn't believe he was doing this again. Why the hell did he need this so bad. If anyone he knew every found out how much he liked it, how much he needed it, he would never be able to show his face again.
Walking down the littered sidewalk, Luka's eyes shifted down praying he wouldn't run into anyone. His hands shook as he reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but thought otherwise. He would have relief soon enough. Through muscle memory, his feet carried him to the YMCA down the block. Of course, no one in his family knew he had a membership here. Luka was not the gym rat type. He was here for a very different reason. With red-eyes, he opened the locker room door and nearly ran for the number #617.
His heart slamming in his throat, with shaky fingers he spun the combination dial, pulling a red dress and heels out. Beady-eyed, he hid the clothing under his jacket walking out of the locker room and into one of the restrooms meant for families. He needed the space. Locking the door behind him, he gripped the sides of the porcelain sink and stared into the mirror as blue eyes turned black.
Blinding, searing pain shot through him as his bones shortened and hair pushed through his scalp. He could felt his cheek bones shoot upwards and tissue expand from his chest. His knuckles still white, he looked back into the mirror and saw a small Asian women staring back. Smiling back at himself/herself he changed, swiped a bit of lip gloss on and walked into the street.
This skin he named Malai. He had seen her as a teenager in the Thai part of town and she was one of his favorites. Thankfully, he had never run into anyone whom he'd stolen skin from while in theirs. That would be a hell of time trying to explain. With a swagger and bounce of hip, he slid on a pair of sunglasses, and walked to one of the best coffee places in town - Primrose campus.
Here with his designer sunglasses and perfect heels he felt like he belonged. Who knows, maybe this skin could be a mutant or a teacher. Something with flowers for sure, the skin was obsessed with the feel for roses. Walking to the cafe, he spotted an I.D. lying on the pavement. Gently, bending over he picked it up and hesitantly called the name out loud.
This little bitc-. He thought to himself. He wanted to cuss her out in Thai, but instead he sauntered over, the I.D. pinched between his index finger and thumb and drawled out "Here you are, sweetheart. Give us a smile then, it'll be better for your complexion" thick with an accent but sounding like he just walked off a construction yard.