The League of Origins

The League of Origins Completed

In a nuclear wasteland we struggle to survive. Our League Of Origins replaces the inevitable war over resources, but what will the outcome of this “sport” be for us?

View More »Important

Owner: blackwolt
Game Masters: blackwolt
Tags: battle, blackwolt, conflict, group, honor, league, original, post-apocalyptic, resources, sci-fi, science fiction, soldier, sport, team, war, warrior, wolf1992 (Add Tags »)

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Bundle »


Add Footnote »
Ririn Crimea sighed for what must have been the 80th time that day. He was in his room, airily resting on some of the boxes that had been piled into the center of his room, and looking around at the room with sad eyes. Never in his nearly twenty years of living here had his room ever felt so empty. Everything he had intended to take with him-clothes, personal belongings, supplies-had been packed into a crate and duffle bag, and were sitting beside the door waiting for him. Everything else was packed up in the boxes that he was currently sitting on, just waiting to be moved out into storage, leaving the space completely bare. Every sign that a little boy, and later a quiet teenager, had ever lived there would be gone by the end of the week. Of course, Ririn thought, he was an adult now. It was perfectly normal for a young man to leave his father's house. That thought didn't change the problem though: he was going to miss the place.

Deciding that there was no point in delaying any longer, stood up from his sitting position, sighing sigh #81, and heading for the door. He hoisted the crate up and tucked the duffle bag over his other shoulder, and then closed the door to his room for the last time without a last look back. He navigated the narrow hallway of his father's small house, careful not to bang the crate against the wall. He took the steps one a time (an oddity for him), and stepped into the foyer. Ririn's father was already in the kitchen, which was visible from the foyer, cleaning up from the early dinner he and his son had had. The older man turned around when he heard Ririn come down. Ririn looked at his father, and took in the sight of the man who had raised him.

Alec Crimea looked like an older version of Ririn. He was fairly tall, now just a bit shorter than his son, and slight. His hair had been blonde, but had grayed into a peppery color, and now seemed permanently withered and windswept on his head. His skin didn't have his son's paleness, rather, it was tenderly tanned in a way that spoke of years outdoors. Ririn's father had always had tranquil green eyes, and even now the glistened peacefully behind his lashes. Although something was very different about his eyes today: They were wet with tears.

"Oh Dad..." Ririn dropped the crate and bag and ran up to his father, hugging his father tightly. Alec returned the embrace, sighing a bit in a resigned way. Apparently, sighing was a genetic thing for the Crimean men.

Alec broke the hug, but kept his hands on his son's shoulders. "You be sure to look after yourself, 'right Rin? Don't put yourself in a situation where you can't get out." Ririn nodded, and squeezed the hands on his shoulders. "Know I will." With that, they broke apart, and picked up the things Ririn had dropped. Ririn opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch, feeling the sun on his face. He took his first steps out of the nest, walking out onto the sidewalk that would lead him to the building where he was to go. Ririn turned his head over his shoulder and gave his father a watery smile. "Love you Dad," he called, and then broke out into a run. Alec rushed to the edge of his property, waving to his son and yelling "Come back to me in one piece, you hear me!? I want to hear all about how you brought our home to glory!"


The new scout of the Black Wolves stepped into the building that held the first step to his new life. He had only had to stop once to ask for directions, and thankfully, he had simply been able to flash the invitation he'd been given, and the shoulder had pointed him in the right direction. There were a few people in the lobby area, which Ririn quickly avoided as he stepped towards the receptionist. Once again, he simply flashed the invitation he had been given to the person, and she pointed him in the direction of some of the people in the room. His head turned back to the pointer with a mortified expression on his face. There was no way he was going to introduce himself to actual people. Grumbling in exasperation, she pointed instead to one of the empty waiting chairs. Giving her an apologetic look, he moved to sit and rest his weary feet, setting the crate beside him and letting the bag rest ontop of the wooden storage unit.